Mad for Love: Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 2
with nothing between them. That one taste had bloomed in her mind, grown until it obsessed her. “I want you so much, Blaize.”
    “And I you, sweetheart. I fall asleep thinking of you, wishing you were with me. This obsession is beyond my understanding.” He shook his head. “I’ve had women before, you have to know that, but I’ve never been possessed with someone so much that they occupy my every waking moment. And some of my sleeping moments too.” He paused, and they lost themselves in another kiss. By the time they’d done, they were both breathing heavily and her lace was askew, pushed roughly aside by Blaize.
    He drew away and watched her as he slowly dragged her breasts from their shield of stays and bodice. Lifting her chin, she saw him in the light cast by one flickering lantern. His eyes darkened with desire, his mouth was swollen from their kisses. “I dare not do more than this, otherwise I will take you here, but I need a taste. Something to keep me going. I thirst for you, Aurelia, I long for your kiss and your touch. When I hear something amusing, I want to share it with you, and when I come home, I want you there.”
    Holding her head between his hands, he kissed her again, long and sweet, before touching his lips down her throat, nuzzling the pulse throbbing there and moving on to her breasts. By the time he sucked a nipple deep into his mouth, she was moaning with unfulfilled longing. The idea that someone might interrupt them had its shocking effect of heightening her excitement. How this could be she failed to understand, but she accepted it. And that nobody would. The footman would keep everyone away.
    If he stood within sight of the grotto, he could see them. She gasped sharply when that eventuality occurred to her. Blaize lifted his head and must have seen her excitement. “You want to perform for an audience?”
    “How do you know these things?” Her voice came out in a strangled gasp, but she had no idea how he could seemingly read her mind.
    “Because we’re so well attuned, sweetheart. Think about it as us working on the same level. And while I’m enjoying you, think of that dour footman appreciating the view.” He pressed a kiss to her nipple. “Seeing these beauties. But never forget that they belong to me.” When he spoke, his voice vibrated next to the soft, yielding skin of her breast, and she shuddered.
    “That feels wonderful.” He deserved to know that what he was doing pleased her, surely?
    “Tell me when you like something. Tell me when you don’t like it as well. It’s the only way I’ll learn. And oh, I do want to learn.” With a moan, he went back to his feast.
    Dropping to his knees, he smoothed his hands over her silk-clad calves, then up to her thighs. This was the first time he’d broken his self-imposed ban on touching her intimately. So far his courtship had been completely proper, and it had driven her mad. This was what she wanted, what she needed from this man.
    His touch sent her wild, and she had to cover her mouth with her hand. Bunching it into a fist, she bit down on the fleshy part of the outside of her hand, suppressing the excited cries he was wringing from her.
    Before she could plead for more, he touched her quim, slid his fingers along her crease. The cool evening air washed over her, emphasizing the sensitivity of her breasts. Shuddering, she opened her legs wider for him, but when he ducked under her skirts, he took her completely unprepared.
    He attacked her like a marauder, licking thirstily at her hot, wet centre, a man in search of essential sustenance. He drank her, tasted every part of her and made her cry out sharply when he flicked his tongue into her aching, throbbing passage.
    Imagine, he’d said, and she did. That footman could see what he was doing. In her mind her skirts were tucked up so he could see everything he wanted to. An elegantly dressed gentleman lapping at her, then sucking—oh, God—her clitoris.
    She had

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