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“Just a little alcove. I come here often. No one ever bothers me here. It’s private from the servants.”

“Would you mind showing it to me?”

Sophie had a brain. She might be naïve and untried, but she knew if she took Mr. Newland into the alcove, he would kiss her again. She should turn around, walk away, go back to the estate, and tell him in no uncertain terms that she was not that kind of woman—no matter that her body was telling her to drag him into the alcove and kiss him senseless.

“It would not be proper, I’m afraid. I hope I haven’t given you the wrong impression, Mr. Newland, but I’m not at all—”

“Sophie”—he locked his brown gaze on hers—“please.”

Her skin rippled. Those eyes… She floated into them, losing herself. “Mr. Newland…”

He smiled—a dazzling smile. No wonder he captivated his audiences. “I do wish you would use my given name. Zach.”

“It would not be proper.”

“Who’s to say what is proper? Is this proper?” He clamped his lips over hers.

Again, Sophie’s legs threatened to collapse beneath her, but Mr. Newland—Zach—held her fast. He ate at her mouth, giving, taking, kissing her with a passion she had never known existed. When they both were nearly devoid of breath, Zach broke the kiss.

“The alcove, Sophie. Now.”

In a pink haze, Sophie led him into the secluded area. The grass was soft as moss under them as he pulled her down onto it. He kissed her again, sucking at her lips, her neck, what was exposed of her shoulder.

“Your skin is so soft, Sophie. I want to touch every inch of it, feel it under my fingers, under my tongue.”

He turned her around and deftly unbuttoned the back of her gown. She stood, petrified, powerless to stop him. Icy fear coursed through her, but words escaped her lips. Part of her wanted this, wanted him.

Once he had finished with her dress, he gently brushed it over her shoulders until it landed in a dark heap on the grassy floor. He turned her around. Her bosom swelled over the tightness of her corset.

“My God, you’re lovely.” He kissed her décolleté, the rounded tops of her bosom.

She shuddered. No man had ever seen this part of her, let alone touched it and kissed it. Boiling honey surged through her veins. She should stop him. But the cold hard fact was…she didn’t want to.

Everywhere his lips touched, a trail of fiery sparks followed. He kissed her shoulders, her upper arms, and then back to the tops of her breasts.

He inhaled. “You smell heavenly. Like mulled wine, spicy. And vanilla.”

Her breath came in rapid puffs against the top of his head. Surely she would swoon any moment.

“Please, Sophie, may I loosen your corset?”

She couldn’t speak. But she nodded. She was defenseless, paralyzed.

He smiled and then turned her around again. He deftly loosened her corset and removed it, leaving her in her chemise and drawers. He turned her toward him and brushed the filmy chemise off her shoulders until it landed in a plop on top of her gown and petticoats.

There she stood, her breasts exposed to his gaze. Would she please him?

The blaze in his green eyes indicated she did.

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nbsp; “So beautiful.” He cupped her breasts and ran his thumb over the tips of her nipples.

She gasped. A jolt shot straight to that foreign place between her legs. Her nipples ached, and her forbidden heat throbbed.

Yes, this was what Ally, Lily, and Rose had experienced, why they hadn’t been able to resist. This was bliss. Pure bliss.

“Such sweet pink nipples.” Zach gazed up at her, continuing to rub her erect buds. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

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