A warm shiver skittered over her skin. She glanced down; three buttons fastened the front of her gown. His arms eased. Her pulse sounded heavy in her ears as she lowered her hands and set her fingers to the buttons.
She knew what she was doing; she knew why she was doing it. There was something here, between them, that explained all-excused all. Something that prompted her to feed his desire, and hers.
The third button slipped free and the gown gaped, revealing her chemise, fastened with a row of tiny buttons. She unfastened them, too. After an instant's hesitation, she drew the layers aside; she could feel his gaze on her breasts as she bared them. A heated touch, it swept them and they swelled.
She would have looked up, but he bent his head, his temple against hers as his hand rose to caress her. The arm about her tightened, holding her hips against him; his fingers touched, traced, then fondled.
He'd touched her breasts before, but only in the night when shadows had shrouded them, hiding so much from her view. His face, close by hers, showed his leashed desire in the hard angles and planes, in the dark glow of his eyes beneath their heavy lids, in the sensual line of his lips.
He touched her gently, the pads of his fingers warm and vital, circling her aureoles, teasing her nipples into bud with just a brush. He watched as her skin heated, then glowed, brought to life by his ministrations; she watched, too, watched the reverence with which he invested each caress, not seizing but worshipping-a different face of desire.
She lifted one hand to his cheek, then turned his face so she could se
e his eyes. They burned darkly, turbulent yet banked. Controlled. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. She stretched up and kissed him, soft, deep, as temptingly as she could, then she drew back, leaned back, pressing her breast into his hand.
She didn't need to spell out her invitation; his head bent and his lips fastened on her heated flesh, hot, wet, burning. He kissed, licked, and she shuddered, fingers tangling in his hair. She closed her eyes, waiting… she tensed, nerves jumping when he rasped one nipple with his tongue. Then he took her into his mouth and her body melted, then tightened as he suckled, only to ease again.
The level of heat between them rose steadily; desire thrummed. She felt it in her fingertips, felt it spread under her skin.
He raised his head and drew her close, his breathing as unsteady as hers. He breathed deeply, chest expanding, coat rasping against her naked breasts. Lips close by her ear, he murmured, "Do you want more?"
"Yes." The word left her lips as she lowered her hands. She plucked the sapphire pin from his cravat, anchored it in his lapel, then tugged at the folds around his throat. At the edge of her vision, she saw his lips curve. Cravat loose, she started on his shirt buttons and flicked him a glance. "What?"
The curve deepened into a wicked smile. "Not quite what I had in mind, but… do carry on."
She did, tugging his shirt loose and baring his chest. She stared. Moonlight had not done him justice-not at all. There was a warm tone to his skin that made her palms ache; she set them to the heavy muscle band across his chest and pressed, stroked outward. He closed his eyes. She stroked down, fascinated by the contours, the ridges, by the contrast of smooth skin roughened by crisp hair. He was heavy yet lean, sleek but solid. So very real.
She skimmed her hands back up to the flat disks of his nipples; greatly daring, she pressed closer, nearer, bringing her breasts, bare and sensitive, against his lower chest. Her skin tingled; her breasts ached. Easing them against him, she circled his nipples with her thumbs.
His hands clenched at her waist; he bent his head. His lips traced a line from her temple to her ear. He gave a short laugh-a little harsh, a little shaky. "My turn."
He drew her closer, his hands sliding down her back. At the backs of her thighs, he stroked her skirts upward, not lifting them but frothing them until they spilled and fell over his hands-leaving his hands beneath her skirts, riding over bare skin.
She caught her breath-he stroked-heat washed over her in a prickling wave. Her senses focused on the areas he touched; she leaned her head against his chest, slid her arms around him, and let her senses follow his lead.
He cupped her bottom, fingers tracing, learning, then caressing until she shuddered and clung. Head bowed against his chest, she put out her tongue and licked-and felt him tense. She turned her head and found a nipple, and licked again. His hands clenched, then eased, then kneaded provocatively.
He bent his head and breathed against her cheek, "More?"
She nodded, eyes shut as she savored the feel of him wrapped all around her-savored the building urge to have him closer still. "I want you inside me." The words left her lips before she'd thought; she might have blushed, but she was already so warm she couldn't tell. But she didn't take the words back; she couldn't lie. Not about this. "Is all this desire?"
"Yes." After a moment, he added, "This, and what's to come."
He looked up, then under her dress, his hands rose to fasten about her hips. He backed her, steering her a few steps past a rolltop desk to where a high sofa table stood by the aisle; the table touched the back of her waist.
"I take it that's not the desk in question."
Fingers on the buttons closing his buckskin breeches, she barely glanced at it. "No." She looked back at his waist. "Wrong sort of desk."
He looked down; his fingers tightened on her hips. "No-not yet."
"Yes. Now."
He didn't argue-he moved his hands. One to her bottom, splaying, then pressing and lifting to tilt her hips. His other hand slid down her stomach until his fingers tangled in her curls, then he touched her.
Sensation speared her. She slumped, her head against his chest. "No." But her protest lacked strength. Another argument she'd lost. She licked her lips, her senses already following the drift of his wicked fingers. "If you… I won't be able to think, later."
"You will." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I promise." His fingers stroked. "This time, you'll know it all." Gently, he probed the soft flesh between her thighs, then bent his head and nudged hers; his lips found hers in a languid, open-mouthed kiss that was hot enough to scald. "Open for me."