being wanton,” he murmured as he pushed his shirt away and gave her a full view of his chest and bare arms. “You are being wicked and wonderful. I hope you will never be anything less when it comes to me and my bed.”
She didn’t respond, but pressed her hand flat against his chest. “So beautiful,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. She moved closer, dragging her fingers against him. “I want more.”
He nodded, barely able to maintain his composure with her looking at him like he was a cake she wanted to devour.
“You’ll get it, but once we remove these trousers, I shall be naked and I will have a very hard time not plunging inside of you right away, so why don’t we focus on you for a moment?”
She let her gaze hold his again. “Should I remove my chemise?”
He held back a strangled moan and managed to squeak out, “Yes, I think that would be best.”
Slowly, she grasped the edge of the last scrap of her clothing and tugged it up, up, over her thighs, over her hips, over her breasts and finally up and over her head to toss away. She stood before him, naked, blushing slightly but not making a move to cover herself.
Of that fact, he was eternally grateful because all he wanted to do was stare at her. She was perfection, utterly beautiful in every way. Her breasts were full with dusky, hard nipples. They swelled over a trim waist and slightly flared hips. It was the kind of body men had been sketching and waxing poetic about for all time. The kind of body men dreamed of when they pleasured themselves. The kind of body men had killed for.
His hands shook as he reached for her. He caught her hips and moved her closer, close enough that he could explore without effort. Then he began to touch her, sliding his hands over her hips, cupping her backside until she hissed out a surprised gasp of pleasure. He kneaded the soft flesh there, exploring her reaction of bliss and filing it away for later use.
He slid his hands upward now, across the smooth line of her spine, around her ribcage, and finally he cupped each breast. Her head tilted back in surrender. When she did so, her back arched and the unintended offering she made was just too much. He leaned down and sucked one tight nipple between his lips. She moaned as he swirled his tongue around her, over and over.
She quaked in his arms, her soft moans growing louder with every suckle, every hot sweep.
“Oh God, Crispin,” she finally managed on a strangled gasp. “I can’t—I want—”
He pulled back reluctantly to look up at her. She still had that desperation on her face and perhaps he was beginning to realize why. She was a sensual creature, one who liked sex even if the world told her that was wrong. And she had been without for a very long time.
He gently steadied her, then released her. “Lay down,” he said softly.
She blinked as if coming back to reality, then nodded, taking her spot lying across the settee a second time. She stared up at him, watching every movement as he found the waist of his trousers and freed what seemed like far too many buttons. Finally, he pushed them away and stood before her, erection curling against his belly.
She sat up on her elbows, and he was nearly undone when she licked her pink lips.
“That is…impressive,” she murmured.
He couldn’t help it—he tilted his head back and laughed at her compliment and the shaky way she delivered it. How long had it been since he laughed like that with a woman…hell, with anyone? It seemed like forever. But his humor didn’t stop him from bracing an arm on either side of her head and lowering himself against her.
“It’s what a man does with what he has, my dear,” he said softly, his mouth a fraction of an inch from hers. “But I thank you for the compliment.”
“You’re welcome,” she choked out, her voice trembling.
He smiled. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, but he still snaked his hand between them and found the soft outer folds of her
She didn’t respond, but pressed her hand flat against his chest. “So beautiful,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. She moved closer, dragging her fingers against him. “I want more.”
He nodded, barely able to maintain his composure with her looking at him like he was a cake she wanted to devour.
“You’ll get it, but once we remove these trousers, I shall be naked and I will have a very hard time not plunging inside of you right away, so why don’t we focus on you for a moment?”
She let her gaze hold his again. “Should I remove my chemise?”
He held back a strangled moan and managed to squeak out, “Yes, I think that would be best.”
Slowly, she grasped the edge of the last scrap of her clothing and tugged it up, up, over her thighs, over her hips, over her breasts and finally up and over her head to toss away. She stood before him, naked, blushing slightly but not making a move to cover herself.
Of that fact, he was eternally grateful because all he wanted to do was stare at her. She was perfection, utterly beautiful in every way. Her breasts were full with dusky, hard nipples. They swelled over a trim waist and slightly flared hips. It was the kind of body men had been sketching and waxing poetic about for all time. The kind of body men dreamed of when they pleasured themselves. The kind of body men had killed for.
His hands shook as he reached for her. He caught her hips and moved her closer, close enough that he could explore without effort. Then he began to touch her, sliding his hands over her hips, cupping her backside until she hissed out a surprised gasp of pleasure. He kneaded the soft flesh there, exploring her reaction of bliss and filing it away for later use.
He slid his hands upward now, across the smooth line of her spine, around her ribcage, and finally he cupped each breast. Her head tilted back in surrender. When she did so, her back arched and the unintended offering she made was just too much. He leaned down and sucked one tight nipple between his lips. She moaned as he swirled his tongue around her, over and over.
She quaked in his arms, her soft moans growing louder with every suckle, every hot sweep.
“Oh God, Crispin,” she finally managed on a strangled gasp. “I can’t—I want—”
He pulled back reluctantly to look up at her. She still had that desperation on her face and perhaps he was beginning to realize why. She was a sensual creature, one who liked sex even if the world told her that was wrong. And she had been without for a very long time.
He gently steadied her, then released her. “Lay down,” he said softly.
She blinked as if coming back to reality, then nodded, taking her spot lying across the settee a second time. She stared up at him, watching every movement as he found the waist of his trousers and freed what seemed like far too many buttons. Finally, he pushed them away and stood before her, erection curling against his belly.
She sat up on her elbows, and he was nearly undone when she licked her pink lips.
“That is…impressive,” she murmured.
He couldn’t help it—he tilted his head back and laughed at her compliment and the shaky way she delivered it. How long had it been since he laughed like that with a woman…hell, with anyone? It seemed like forever. But his humor didn’t stop him from bracing an arm on either side of her head and lowering himself against her.
“It’s what a man does with what he has, my dear,” he said softly, his mouth a fraction of an inch from hers. “But I thank you for the compliment.”
“You’re welcome,” she choked out, her voice trembling.
He smiled. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, but he still snaked his hand between them and found the soft outer folds of her
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