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He prepared to release her.
“Put me down,” she said.
He nodded. Gritted his teeth. Slid her to the floor. It was better this way. He’d lost control.
It had been madness.
“That’s better,” she said. “Now I can dothis.” Her fingers closed around the flap of his breeches, cupping his cock.
“A duke in the hand is worth two in the bush,” she said, with a wicked grin.
Edgar appeared to be choking to death.
Mari relinquished her grip on his tool, and thumped him on the back instead.
“In the b-bush,” he sputtered. “Mari.” He rumpled her hair with his hand. “You’re going to be the death of me.” His grin slipped away.
“All good things in all good time,” he said gently. “We should wait.”
“Yes, but, what’s well begun, is half done,” she replied with an arch smile.
“Oh?” His smile returned, tilting his sensual lips upward. “And fortune favors the bold, does it not?”
“Precisely. And... and the early bird catches the worm.”
“The worm?” His eyebrows shot upward.
“Did I say worm? I meant the python.”
“That’s better,” he growled. “Now, right and forward, Perkins. No dawdling.” He made a spinning motion with his finger.
He wanted her to... turn around?
She turned her back to him.
“I’ve been wanting to untie one of your bows since I saw you bending over to read the titles of the books in my library.”
She sucked in her breath. He wanted her to bend.
She walked to the bed and bent forward, offering her backside to him. “If you wish a thing to be done, you’d better do it yourself, Your Grace.”
She glanced back over her shoulder, loving the fierceness of the desire in his eyes.
Within seconds, he was behind her, and the scarlet sash was a heap on the floor.
He unbuttoned her white gown and slid it down her body, helping her step out of it, until it lay in a froth of white at their feet.
The over-chemise. Then her stays. Until all she wore was a thin cotton shift.
He shaped his palms over her buttocks. “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.”
He lifted her hips and the hard, pressing length of him slid against her core, nudging her thighs apart. His fingers closed around her waist.
Her breathing came faster. She wanted to see him as well. Feel him.
“Are you still clothed?” she asked, attempting to twist around to see him. “That’s hardly fair.” He loosened his grip on her waist and she turned around, rising to stand before him.
She tugged his shirt from the waist of his breeches impatiently. He raised his arms, shimmying free of his shirt.
