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“You make me feel…” she began, her voice strange and husky. “I feel as if I have drunk too much champagne.”

He laughed softly and, holding her face in his hands with tender care, kissed her mouth again, opening her lips, using his tongue. “You’re drunk on desire,” he murmured. Then, holding her still and looking down into her eyes, “I want to kiss you.”

“You have,” she breathed, and reached up to touch his lips with her own.

He smiled against her mouth. “Not there. I want to kiss you between your legs.”

“Oh.” Aphrodite had not mentioned that sort of kissing, but Vivianna knew by the tremble in her knees that already she was longing and eager for him to do it. She told him so, meeting his gaze. “I would like that. Will you let me kiss you, too?”

His eyes blurred, as though the vision she had created in his head had temporarily scattered his thoughts. “You can kiss me another time,” he said huskily, “and I would like it very much.”

And then he knelt down at her feet and began to pull up her bulky skirts and petticoats. Vivianna clasped the many folds in her hands, holding them for him, until he had exposed her stockinged legs. Cool air brushed her most sensitive places. Oliver swallowed and looked up at her, his eyes

black with desire.

“You aren’t wearing any drawers,” he said as if he couldn’t believe it, although the evidence was there before him.

Vivianna smiled. “I know.”

Slowly, with extreme concentration, he reached out and stroked her thighs above the ribboned tops of her stockings. His palms curved over her hips, then down, molding to the rounded curves of her bottom. His warm breath stirred the soft curls at the apex of her legs.

Vivianna felt her body tense in anticipation. She leaned her head back against the wall and wondered if she would be able to stay upright much longer.

His fingers eased between her thighs, sliding down through the curls that hid her outer lips, searching the delicate folds, to the slickness within. He made a sound of satisfaction in his throat and then…good Lord, and then he bent forward and…

A bolt of sheer pleasure rendered Vivianna momentarily speechless, and then she gave a deep moan. She lifted her wrist to her mouth and bit upon it, muffling her cries. His tongue circled her swollen nub, sending more quakes through her trembling body, and then he proceeded to suck upon it, gently but firmly. Vivianna arched her back, and at the same time her knees gave way a little more.

He held her up, his fingers pressing into her bottom and opening her thighs at the same time, while his mouth and teeth and tongue did their wonderful work. Vivianna gasped and moved against him. His fingers were inside her, she could feel the pressure, thrusting as his tongue teased her toward the precipice. She bit into her glove, but what she really wanted to do was scream. It was almost too much to bear.

She felt herself erupt, and her legs gave way.

He caught her, holding her up, and the next thing she knew she was in his arms, his skirts rumpled up between them, as she sobbed and gasped out her pleasure in the warm crease between his shoulder and neck. His heart was thudding as loudly as hers, and his chest was rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.

Vivianna took several deep breaths of her own, trying to calm herself, but it was as if her feelings were all confused and jumbled up inside her. Surely what he had just done was not typical of a rake? She had always believed rakes cared only for themselves, for their own selfish pleasures. What he had just done to her was for her pleasure alone, wasn’t it?

She murmured something of the sort into his cravat.

Oliver’s breath warmed her ear. “You’re beautiful, Vivianna. Pink and sleek and beautiful. It was for my pleasure, too, believe me. Next time I am inside you it will not be with my tongue.”

Protect your heart!

Her head was spinning with what he had said, but worse than that, her heart was melting. He had given her such joy, and denied himself release, and now he spoke of the next time. Vivianna knew he would not hurt her, not physically anyway. He would not hurt any woman. There was such goodness in him. Surely he would not deny her her request if she asked him now…?

Yes, ask him to save the shelter. This is your chance. You have him in your control, in your power. Do it now. Now!

He was kissing her again, his mouth feeding on hers, his hands hot against her breasts. He pushed against her, against the place he had just been kissing, and with each movement a new jolt of hot pleasure went through her. And then he turned so that his body was hard against hers and she felt him, the hard urgent length of him, against her belly.

“Vivianna,” he groaned, “come with me now. We can go somewhere private. We can make love in safety.”

A warning sounded in her head. And then what? it demanded. Will he call you a hackney and send you home? Why not, once he has what he wants from you?

And yet he had been so unselfish. He had lavished all his care and attention upon her, given her pleasure such as she had never before experienced. Surely he would not abandon her?

Vivianna tried to clear her head.

The shelter. Save the shelter. That was what this was all about, wasn’t it? Aphrodite had said she would know when the moment was right. Was this it now? Had the right moment come? He wanted her, that much was clear. If he really wanted her, if she was really important to him, he would say yes. Simple. Just ask him….

Again his mouth was on her breast, and he ran his tongue over her nipple, making her flesh jump and squirm. His fingers brushed her inner thigh, stirring the desire he had only just sated, making her think of being in his bed for an entire night.

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