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“That was bloody marvelous,” she breathed.
He pressed his cheek against her leg, the hair on his chin chafing the inside of her thigh.“Sei tutto per me.”The whisper glided across her skin.
Romy looked down at the dark head nestled between her legs and smiled, running her fingers through his hair. “I should have guessed you speak Italian. What does that mean?”
He lifted his head, pressing kisses through the silk of her gown across her stomach, her breasts, until he reached her mouth. “It isn’t important.”
Then he kissed her, hard.
Romy could taste herself on his lips, mixing with the scotch he’d had earlier. His fingers were still under her skirts, inside her, thrusting gently while his mouth urgently took hers before he withdrew.
They slid to the floor together, the warmth of the fire lingering against Romy’s back as they lay side by side together. His tongue explored the inside of her mouth with feverish intensity. Devouring her. With no sign of his previous gentleness. His fingers glided over her shoulders and arms while his mouth made love to hers. The embers of her release flamed back to life again with the merest touch.
He pulled her to her feet, the brush of his eyes against her skin like the finest velvet. Without a word, Romy gave her back to him, agreeing silently to what was to come next, secure in the knowledge of Granby. He might never say the words she wished to hear, but she felt the force of them with every caress of his fingers.
Granby would not be here otherwise.
He undressed her slowly, carefully, his large fingers handling the hooks at the back of her gown with ease. When she tried to help, he only kissed her fingers and pushed them aside as each bit of her clothing fell away to be carefully placed on the sofa. Once she lay naked before him on the rug in front of the fire, he leaned over her, the thick ebony of his hair falling about his cheek and obscuring everything but his mouth.
“You’re so beautiful. A painting by Botticelli.” A taut nipple found its way into his mouth, to be sucked and stroked by the tip of his tongue. His mouth moved lower, the muscles of her stomach jumping.
Pausing to nip at her hipbone, he said, “You taste delicious, Andromeda.” His tongue ran over her folds, still sensitive from his previous ministrations. “But I’ve other plans for you, little shrub.” His breath ruffled the soft hair covering her mound before his fingers pressed into her again, stretching her gently.
Granby’s fingers weren’t small. She expected other parts of his anatomy were equally large. Biting back a twinge of fear she said, “I was a bloody tree nymph, Your Grace. Had you been more observant, you would have noticed.”
“Am I paying enough attention now?”
Romy’s breath hitched as his thumb brushed against her already engorged flesh.
Granby laughed softly.
She gave a blissful sigh. There was something so decadent about lying naked before the fire with a large, fully dressed male determined to pleasure her.
He pressed a kiss to her breast. “Wait.” His fingers retreated, leaving her frustrated and trembling with her own desire.
When he came to his knees, so did she, though Romy still had to tilt her head to look up at him. Twisting about, he discarded his shoes, which frankly were the size of small boats, and faced Romy again. He hadn’t had his coat on when she’d found him in the portrait gallery. Nor his cravat.
She tugged at the buttons of his waistcoat, easing the item of clothing off his shoulders, stretching up as she did so.
Granby kissed the line of her neck, purring softly into her skin. One of his hands palmed her breast.
Romy shivered, feeling the tautness of his larger body, the result of the restraint he held onto for her sake.
“I won’t break, you know.” Her hands started on the line of buttons on his shirt.
His response was a low growl. Abruptly, he pushed her hands aside and stood, stripping off the remainder of his clothing in seconds.
Romy closed her eyes.
“It is a little late for modesty, don’t you think?” He was kneeling once more before her, hair covering one eye. “Don’t be frightened.”
“I’m not.” Her lashes fluttered open, taking in the naked man before her. Granby was a mass of corded sinew and carved muscle. The firelight played along his torso, giving shadow and depth to his masculine beauty. And he was beautiful, so much so, he took her breath away. Dark hair spread across his chest leading lower to his trim waist and—
So that’s what they look like.
His manhood jutted proudly out from a thatch of dark hair between his thighs, pointing directly at Romy.
“Can I touch it?”
