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“Mock me if you will, but time has nothing to do with it. I knew the first time I saw you.” His hands on her shoulders massaged gently, kneading away tension she hadn’t known she’d held.
“Knew what?” she whispered.
“Knew you were different. Knew that, despite my denials, I would do anything to be with you.” His hands moved gently but skillfully. “The more I think about it, the more I believe we are meant to be together.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe in fate.”
He slid the dressing gown off her shoulders, his hands still massaging. “I believe enough for both of us. Your skin.” He bent and kissed her bare shoulder. “How is it so soft?”
“A lady never reveals her secrets.”
“Then you have secrets? Good. I like surprises.” His fingers took hold of the thin strap of her night rail. “I want to see you.” He tugged the strap down her arm, revealing the swell of her breast. “All day I’ve wanted to rip that fichu you wore off and throw it in the fire.”
“And there have been several times I wanted to pull your shirt over your head and see what was underneath.”
He gave her a roguish grin. “That can be arranged. Later.” He tugged the strap down further. “May I?”
Her nipple was already hard with anticipation. “Please.”
He reached for the little bow tied at the valley of her breasts. His hands were large and darker in color than her skin as he loosed the ribbon. The neckline immediately dipped, the strap he’d lowered sliding down farther until the material of her bodice caught on her distended peak.
He followed the fabric down, caressing her skin with the backs of his hands. Her skin puckered in anticipation, but he didn’t free her nipple. Instead, he reached for the other strap and slid it off her shoulder until it too dropped precariously low. She looked at him in the mirror, and his eyes were on her face. And then, as she watched, his gaze dropped to take in her bare shoulders, her exposed chest, and the tingling skin of her breasts. He reached over her shoulder, and she watched as he tugged the night rail down farther, exposing her to him. Her nipples were dark and hard, the skin puckered from cold and from need. She could feel moisture gathering between her legs. If he could make her feel like this with only a look, what would happen when he touched her?
Slowly, he bent behind her and lowered his head, his dark hair falling over her shoulder. He kissed her neck, moving around from one side to the other. Her eyes wanted to close, but she forced them open. She wanted to see his hands on her. He slid them down her upper arms, then in to cup her breasts.
She inhaled quickly as the heat of his hands on that aching flesh flooded through her. He raised his head, watching her eyes as his hands took her nipples between his thumbs and began to tease them.
Angelette moaned and arched for him. Her sex throbbed, and she squeezed her thighs together to ease the building need. The more his hands worked her, the more her need grew. She closed her eyes, unable to watch the wanton scene in the mirror. She only wanted to feel. It had been so long since she had felt like this.
Abruptly, he rose and pulled her up, turning her to face him. He pushed the dressing gown and night rail over her hips until she stood naked before him. His eyes dropped to the floor and his gaze traveled over every inch of her until he reached her face again. “You look even better than I imagined. Your legs.” He sank to his knees, and her own wobbled to see him kneeling there. “It’s criminal to cover them up.” He put a hand on her calf, molding the shape of it, then sliding upward to rub her thighs. “So soft.”
He bent, and to her shock, he kissed her calf. She’d never been kissed there before, but when he reached around and flicked his tongue over the back of her knee, she swayed with pleasure. Then he tucked his hands between her thighs, opening them slightly and then more so he could kiss her inner thigh. He moved up, his kisses lingering on the delicate skin as her breathing grew more rapid and her legs felt weaker. When his mouth met her curls, she tightened her hands into fists. She knew what he was about. She had heard of this, even experienced it briefly in the marriage bed, but when he licked her, parting her with his tongue, she shook all over.
His gaze held hers and he licked again, his tongue tasting her and dragging against that sensitive skin. Spirals of pleasure coiled there and she shook her head. “You want me to stop?” he asked.
“No. I want you to do it again,” she murmured.
Gently, he pushed her legs farther apart, his tongue exploring until he found the place that made her whole body come alive.
“Yes, right there,” he said, his breath making her pant even harder. He circled that spot with his tongue, licked and teased, until she was practically mewling like a cat.This—she had not known aboutthis.
He licked her again, then kissed her mound, moving upward to her belly. Angelette glared at him. “Why did you...stop?”
“You wanted to see me without my shirt.”
She blinked, uncomprehending. Then she watched as he removed his coat and allowed it to drop to the floor. Next came his cravat and finally he undid the buttons of his shirt. Her body thrummed, her sex pulsed, her skin was on fire. She wanted him between her legs again, and she wanted him naked when he was kissing her there.
“Take it off,” she said when he hesitated before pulling the tails from his breeches.
A knock sounded on the door, and she jumped.
“Madame, shall I help with your toilette?”
“No!” she shouted.
Daventry raised a brow. How did he seem so calm and unaffected? She would have to change that.
“I mean, no thank you.” She lowered her voice to a polite level. “I do not require any assistance.”
