"I'll do my best." She sipped the second glass more slowly while Hart circled her, assessing his prey. Good Lord, she was beautiful tonight; the wine added a flush to her cheeks, or it could have been fear or arousal or both. Her eyes followed him, then darted away when he met her gaze. Her tongue peeked out to lick a drop of wine from her pink lips, and Hart knew just what he wanted.
"Turn 'round."
He took the glass from her hand as she obeyed. Her skin felt hot when he placed a hand on her shoulder and trailed it down the bare skin of one shoulder blade.
"I have never touched you here," he murmured, testing the texture of her skin over her spine. The dress dipped low in the back and he followed her spine down, and then up again, all the way to her neck. Emma shivered, but she froze when he reached for the tiny hooks of her gown and began to let them loose.
He did not hurry. There was no need. She would stay as long as he wanted.
The hooks fell open, one by one, exposing a simple ivory corset. Hart moved his hands lower until he reached the small of her back. The dress gaped; his cock began to throb as he reached to ease the straps of material from her arms. The silk fell away, crumpling into a dramatic pile on the floor. He made short work of her petticoat, and that fell too, revealing the flare of her hips beneath a transparent ivory shift. The globes of her buttocks were clearly visible, naked and rising against the thin fabric of her chemise.
He placed his palm high on her spine again and traced it down, but this time he continued over the hard brace of her stays, then down, down to the soft curve of her bottom. He cupped one warm cheek and spread his fingers out to measure that flesh.
Emma gasped as he smiled. Her flesh was yielding here, firm and tender at the same time. He followed the rise up to her hip and stepped around to enjoy the view from the front.
Ah, this was even better, and there was no pretense in the smile that showed his teeth and his hunger. Her breasts were pushed high enough to reveal the shell pink edge of her areolae. Below the corset, the linen did nothing to hide the dark shadow of her sex, and the shift itself ended above her knees. Ivory garters gripped her thighs and held up pale gold stockings.
He took her hand to help her step from the circle of her discarded clothing and was well pleased at the sight of her, almost naked, but still wearing her heeled slippers. Yes, she looked made for his indulgence.
Her eyes glittered as she watched him watching. She knew the picture she presented as she stood a little taller and arched her back the tiniest bit. A wider edge of pink showed above her stays.
"Have you wanted me to see you like this, Emma? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror and thought of me watching?"
"Yes," she said evenly.
His heart skipped. "It is a lovely sight. Beautiful." Stepping closer, he curved his hand over her jaw and kissed her gently, reverently. Her mouth opened with no urging, and he eased his tongue inside to trace her lips and teeth. The heat of her, the wetness. Her tongue met his to rub desire to other parts of his body. Other parts that wanted that slick heat and velvet tongue.
He kissed deeper and her hands rose to hold his wrists tight. She pressed her lips harder, angled her mouth to take more. When he drew back her mouth was pink and swollen, and the dozens of times he'd entertained this particular fantasy rose up to strangle him to breathlessness.
"On your knees," he whispered.
Her hands spasmed, clenching his arms tighter. Shocked knowledge flashed through her eyes.
"Your knees," he rasped, and she sank down, slow as a feather, eyes still on his fa
ce, fulfilling every picture he'd painted of this moment. She held his gaze as she let go of his wrists and reached for the buttons of his trousers, and Hart unfastened his shirt and shrugged it off.
Her fingers were a torment, pressing into him as she worked the buttons free. "Would you have done this for him?" he demanded.
She shook her head.
"Say it."
Her hands trembled against him, torture, torture. "No," she finally said.
"And will you . . ." He stopped to draw a rough breath when she slipped her hand into the opening she'd created. "Will you do this for me?"
"Yes," she whispered as her hand closed around him, cooler than his heated flesh, and drew him free. He wanted to gasp but held it back.
Her eyes fell to his jutting erection. "Yes," she said again, with a little hiss of eager breath.
Her hand fell open, until just the tips of her fingers touched him, and those fingers drew fire as she traced a tentative exploration of his shaft. He shuddered. His knees wanted to shatter, so he locked them against that weakness and watched her slow petting.
She traced the rim of the head, skimmed her palm over the tip. Her eyes rose to meet his for just a moment, then down again to his cock. When her hand fell away to rest on his thigh, his muscles jumped beneath the thin fabric.
She pursed her lips to press a simple kiss, and Hart couldn't help the loud hiss of the air he drew through clenched teeth. Her mouth twitched up into a little smile that faded just as quickly as it appeared.
Something froze inside him. He knew he'd remember that forever: Emma smiling against his sex. Then she licked a tiny taste, quick as lightning, and Hart forgot the smile.