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He kept his hands at his sides while he plundered her mouth with his tongue.
Knees going weak, she sagged against him, and he banded her with strong arms, keeping her upright. Heat from his touch seared her through the fabric of her gown. Notes of sandalwood and fresh pine made her dizzy with desire.
For long, luscious moments, she savored the kiss, meeting his tongue play for play.
Wanton. You are wanton, Priscilla Pratt.
She pushed aside the accusatory voice in her head and remembered her objective. Still trapped between their bodies, her hands released their grip on the neckcloth and fumbled with the buttons on his waistcoat.
Timothy’s lips curved against hers, his body inching back to give her more room to work.
After slipping the garment off his shoulders, she broke the kiss. Although she missed the nearness—the heat—of him, she needed to see him more clearly for her next demand. “Off with your shirt! And be quick about it.”
* * *
A laugh builtin Timothy’s chest at the fierce look on Priscilla’s face as she gave her order, but he bit it back. And here he foolishly thought he was finished with barked commands when he sold his commission in the military.
He gave a quick salute and fought the smile tugging at his lips. “Yes, General!” He slid his braces off his shoulders, then pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor by his coat.
Priscilla devoured him with her gaze, and as it inched up and down his body, he burned with desire everywhere it touched.
Clad only in his trousers—braces hanging loosely down the sides and back—stockings and boots, he felt exposed. But it was not for his lack of clothing.
Oh, no. Surely, if she lifted her gaze from his body and probed his eyes, she could see, sense that more than desire coursed through his veins.
When she stepped forward and placed one fingertip on his chest, he shivered, but not from the cold. Truth be told, she scorched his skin with her touch. Whisper soft, she trailed the finger along his pectoral muscles, stopping at the tiny pink peak of his nipple.
A groan, guttural and primitive, escaped his lips at the same time his groin tightened, his arousal straining against the fall of his trousers.
Her eyes snapped to his, her mouth forming an erotic littleO. Pink dappled the apples of her cheeks.
Night after night he’d lain in his bed, imagining her expression of ecstasy as she writhed beneath him and he brought her to release.
And it could not compare to the vision before him at that moment. Those who believed fantasy surpassed reality hadn’t been under the spell of Priscilla Pratt.
Fear rose from deep within and inched up his spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. Warning sounded in his brain as surely as a soldier’s trepidation before a battle.
If he proceeded, he headed into very dangerous territory from which he surely would not escape unscathed.
He should stop this madness, send her home, and claim his victory.
Instead, he stepped behind her and began unfastening her gown, mentally raising the white flag of surrender and praying she would show him mercy when she’d finished destroying his heart.
* * *
Priscilla had seenstatues of nude men in museums and aristocratic galleries, and her mother tried in vain to whisk her away before she tarried too long. But cold, white marble did not compare to warm flesh, especially when dusted with coarse auburn hair. Her fingertips still tingled from the sensation.
She wanted to touch him more, but he slipped behind her without a word—except for the strange, feral sound he’d made. She had worried she’d hurt him, but his expression indicated the opposite.
A thrill shot through her. Passion had gripped him.
Would she make such sounds as well? Grateful when he slipped behind her, she dipped her head as a blush scorched her skin.
He used the position to his advantage, placing soft kisses against the curve of her neck as his fingers deftly worked the fasteners of her gown.
A wicked grin tugged at her lips, and try as she might, she could not keep the teasing tone from her voice. “Did I give you permission to undress me?”
Movement behind her halted, then he lifted his lips enough to have his breath brush against her skin. “Permission to continue?”
