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He gave two hard tugs on the top of her stays. Her breasts popped free. Her nipples were dark and already stiff with arousal, and seemed to grow even tighter under his avid gaze.
“Yer so damn lovely, my Kathleen,” he growled.
His voice alone made her go weak. And damp.
Grant lowered his head to her breast. His tongue flicked out, laving the tight point. Kathleen wriggled, silently urging him to increase the pressure, but he kept a firm grip as he gently tortured her into a state of near frenzy.
He went from one breast to the other, teasing and tweaking until her nipples were flushed and hard. Sensation pulsed through her body, and she had to bite on her lip to keep from groaning.
“Make as much noise as you want,” he rasped out. “It’s just me.”
She clamped a hand on the back of his skull, jerking him down for a frantic kiss. As their tongues tangled, his arm locked around her shoulders.
A moment later, he broke free of her greedy kiss.
“Grant,” she moaned. “Don’t stop—”
She bit off her words as he squeezed a nipple between his fingertips. Then he bent down, and his mouth was on her. She jerked and probably would have tumbled out of his arms, but he held her tightly. He lavished attention on her breasts, kissing her nipples before sucking them into his mouth.
Kathleen’s world went up in flames. Outside, rain beat against the windowpanes, and a cold wind howled overhead. But inside everything was hot and wet, her body craving him, making itself ready. She arched her back, pressing her breast against his lips, giving him everything.
A moment later, he pulled back.
“Why . . . why are you stopping?” she stuttered.
“I’m not.”
He fisted a hand in her skirt, sweeping it up to her belly. Kathleen trembled, shocked and excited to be so suddenly exposed.
“Goodness,” she squeaked.
Grant settled a hand on her thigh, above her garter and stocking. “You are so bloody gorgeous, Kathleen.”
Her thoughts were so scattered, she could hardly muster a coherent response. “I have freckles down there, too.”
He flashed her a grin. “One of these days, I’d like to count them. And kiss them, each one.”
That sounded . . . wonderful.
“That will take quite a while,” she replied.
“Then we’ll leave it for next time.”
“Oh, very well,” she said, trying not to sound disappointed.
As odd—and as nerve-wracking—as it was to be so vulnerable, Kathleen did not want him to stop. Not when she felt ready to crawl out of her skin with restless desire.
He flashed her a quick look, his gaze like emerald fire. “Oh, love, I’m not done yet.”
“Really, it’s fine . . .”
The air caught in her lungs as he spread her thighs wide. His hand settled on the soft tangle of curls at the top of her thighs.
“So soft,” he murmured. “So damn pretty.”
Kathleen trembled as she watched him play with the curls hiding her sex. It was thoroughly wanton, and she found his touch almost unbearably exciting. But Grant also cradled her so protectively, and his gaze held such tenderness—even awe—that she had to blink back tears.
“All right, lass?” he murmured.
