The Deceptive Lady Darby (Lost Ladies of London 2) - Page 54

With trembling fingers, she reached out to touch him. “Teach me to please you, Christian.” The hazy look of desire swam in her blue eyes as her hands drifted up over his chest, grazing his nipples. “Show me how you might please me, too.”

Every drop of blood in his body rushed to his cock. The woman of his dreams moistened her lips, and he suddenly feared he would wake to find this was all a figment of his wild imagination. Instinctively, his gaze drifted to the window. Both times he’d kissed her they’d been interrupted. God help anyone who dared disturb them tonight.

Rose glanced back over her shoulder. “Close the curtains. There’s nothing outside to interest you.”

He crossed the room and yanked the curtains so hard he almost pulled down the pole. After working on the knot in his cravat, he threw it onto the desk, unbuttoned his waistcoat, and it ended up somewhere on the floor. His boots followed, and he came to stand in front of her.

“With the awkward things out of the way, you can remove the rest.”

She glanced at the door. “What if someone should knock?”

“No one will disturb us.” If the gods were on their side, surely nothing disastrous would happen in the next hour. “I am completely at your mercy.”

The comment must have bolstered her confidence for she straightened her shoulders and a coy smile touched her lips. “So this is to be a game of master and servant, only we’ve reversed the roles.”

“You’re not my servant, Rose.” And therein lay the truth of it. Rose was his equal in every regard. In the space of a few short days, she’d become his friend, his confidante, soon to be lover.

Ignoring the tightness in his chest, he took hold of her hand and placed it over his heart. It was a way of saying he cared without frightening her, without forcing her to commit.

“It’s beating so hard I can feel it against my palm.” A look of wonder sparkled in her eyes, quickly replaced with one of curiosity. Her fingers traced a line down over the hard planes of his abdomen and lingered there. “I was right. You’re not one to overindulge.”

“Only when kissing you.”

With her eyes locked on his, she let her fingers fall to the waistband of his breeches. She grasped the front of his linen shirt, tugged the material free and pushed her

hands up over his bare chest. “Your skin is so hot.”

Christian chuckled. The woman had no idea how deeply she affected him. “Perhaps that’s because there’s a fire raging within.”

“Undress me.” The words tumbled from her mouth as her breathing grew shallow. In his youth, he’d seen the look of desire swim in many a woman’s eye, but on Rose it was spellbinding.

The amused grin fell from his face as he pictured every curve, every contour. Rose turned around to show him the tiny row of buttons. Barely able to speak, he set to work, eventually pushing the plain garment off her shoulders until it pooled on the floor.

She stepped out of it and turned to face him.

Heaven help him.

He couldn’t help but stare at the valley between her breasts, visible above the neckline of her chemise. He tugged on the ribbons of her stays and unthreaded them to leave her standing in nothing but the sheer undergarment.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He dragged his shirt over his head, threw it onto the floor and unbuttoned his breeches so they hung low on his hips. He was so damn hard there was no danger of them slipping.

Rose’s gaze came to rest on his chest and followed the line of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the waistband. Watching her intently, he pushed the breeches to the floor to reveal his erection.

She gulped, shifted from one foot to the other, and he imagined her growing hot and swollen between her legs. Perhaps feeling a sudden urge to join him in his nakedness, she drew her chemise over her head. But instead of throwing it to the floor, she clutched the cotton to her chest.

Christian moved closer. “I’ll take that.” He pulled it from her grasp and placed it on the desk behind her. “We do not have to do this. Just say the word and—”

She crushed her mouth to his in a move that shocked him as much as it excited him. The feel of her soft breasts pressed against him was his undoing.

“I want this,” she whispered as she tore her lips away. “I want you.”

Christian’s hands settled on her buttocks. He bent his knees a fraction, pushed his cock into the gap between her legs, rocked his hips back and forth while he lavished her nipple with his tongue.

“Christian.” She moved with him, rubbed against his erection, as desperate as he to ease the ache building deep inside.

“If only we had endless hours alone,” he said, kissing the column of her throat. “I want to taste you everywhere. I want to stay buried inside you until dawn.”

“We cannot afford such luxury,” she panted. “It’s only a matter of time before someone knocks the door.”

Tags: Adele Clee Lost Ladies of London Romance
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