AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“In that case.” He released her and gestured at the table. “Lift your robe, bend over, and we’ll get right to it.”
A bright shard of laughter flew out of her. The fire crackled in the hearth; desire crackled in the air around them.
When he spoke again, it was in his pillows-at-midnight voice.
“If you won’t indulge your own senses, perhaps you’ll indulge my dreams of seeing you on that red velvet chaise in nothing but silk stockings and your hair loose around your breasts.”
Craving rippled through her. She bit her lip. “I’m but a humble artist. Do you think I can afford silk stockings?”
With one lazy knuckle, he traced the edge of her robe, starting at her shoulder and sliding down, down, to the valley between her needy breasts. “If I know you at all, Juno Bell, then I know you are wearing silk stockings. Am I right?”
Of course he was right, and he knew it. Smiling faintly, he plucked the combs from her hair and tossed them aside. Her curls hesitated, unusually coy, then all at once surrendered and unfurled down her back.
With both hands, he shook out her hair, flicking her long curls sensuously over her shoulders. She feasted her eyes on his chest, on the burnished skin peeking through the open triangle of his shirt.
“Then tell me, if you know so much, what color are the garters that hold my silk stockings?” she asked.
“Ah, that I don’t know, though I know you delight in pretty, colorful things. Perhaps your garters are blue, to match the morning sky, for that is one of your favorite sights.”
He abandoned her hair and skimmed his hands down her front, carelessly brushing her breasts, their nipples hard under the silk. He found the first button fastening her robe and slipped it through its hole.
“Perhaps your garters are pink and embroidered with white flowers, because you do love flowers,” he murmured.
His eyes imprisoned hers, as his nimble fingers released each button. The silk parted helplessly, as did her lips.
“Or perhaps today your garters are red and embroidered with flames, in honor of the way a mere glimpse of you heats my blood.”
“Only one way to find out.”
The robe fell open. He stilled as he took her in, naked but for the robe and those famous silk stockings, tied above her knees. His gaze roamed over her hungrily.
“Well?” Her voice was husky. “What color are my garters?”
He kept staring. “I have absolutely no idea.”
“Perhaps this will help,” she murmured, and slipped the robe over her shoulders. It slithered down her body and puddled at her feet. Fire-warmed air kissed her bare skin.
A shuddering breath racked his chest. His mouth worked, swallowing, moistening his dry lips, seeking sips of air. Finally, he looked up. His eyes smoldered.
“Lie on the chaise,” he ordered roughly. “Your bare skin on velvet. I think we’ll both like that.”
Breathy laughter danced out of her. “I think we’ll both like a lot of things.”
She tripped backward to the chaise, nestled her bottom into its soft velvet embrace, and reclined back, one knee bent. She let her thighs fall open under his hungry gaze. Her own brazenness thrilled her.
“Is this what you had imagined?” she asked.
“My imagination fell far short of the reality.”
He loomed over her, then he sat too, his silk-clad hip hot against hers. She wriggled in anticipation of his touch, but he reached past her, with a tickle of his robe and a hint of his spicy scent.
“And what is this I see, draped over the top of the chaise?” he said. “Why, it’s a swansdown tippet.”
Slowly, lazily, he reeled the tippet toward him, dragging the long line of white downy feathers over her shoulder, to curl and coil around her breasts. Under his sensual teasing, her back arched; a breathy moan escaped. She pressed one hand into the velvet of the chaise, while the other clutched his iron-hard thigh.
“I thought you’d like that,” he murmured with rough triumph.
“What else are you planning to do with it?”
