“My nose?” he asked. “Why ever would you love that?”
“Because it is strong. It is aristocratic. I even love the bump right on the end.”
He pulled back and tried to stare cross-eyed at his nose. “A bump?”
“Absolutely,” she lied. In truth, there was no bump, but her heart was beating so fast, her body so alive, she had to say something to calm herself down. Some nonsense to cool her fire or she swore she would burn up.
“Truly?” he asked as finally, wonderfully, he finished with the buttons of her gown.
“No, silly. It is perfect.” And just to prove it, she pressed a kiss right on the tip. She would have done more except at that moment he pulled back, his eyes dark with mischief.
“So you think to tease me, do you? Then perhaps I should tell you what about you that I like.” He leaned forward and began kissing her cheek, his tongue making little swirls along her skin as he drew lower on her body. Her cheek became her jaw, then her neck, and soon he was pulling her gown forward and off so he could kiss her shoulder.
“You’re not talking,” she gasped. It was silly of her, but she wanted to know. What about her did he find so attractive?
“I haven’t gotten there yet,” he said. The gown she wore was one of her own designs with the shift sewn into the bodice. That meant there was nothing to stop him as he pulled it away from her torso, nothing to interrupt his gaze of her now bared breasts.
“Oh,” she whispered as her skin heated. All men loved breasts, she supposed. But he wasn’t looking at her there. He was drawing the gown off her arms and she was torn between covering herself back up or just closing her eyes to feel the soft caress of the air on her sensitive skin. She did neither, her gaze going to his dark eyes. Never had she seen him look so intensely. He hadn’t lost control like before. This time, he was just looking, his expression adoring rather than possessive.
“Robert?”
“I love your shoulder,” he said as he stroked a single finger from her neck down across the top of one shoulder. “The line is so elegant.”
“My what?”
“Specifically, this little mole right here.” He leaned forward to her left shoulder and stroked his tongue over a dark dot just beside her collarbone. She barely remembered that it was there. She never thought a man would like it, much less stroke his tongue across it in a way that made her blood sing.
“Oh, my!” she gasped.
“You have been tormenting me with that mole all evening long, you know,” he said against her skin. “It kept taunting me from your skin. All that creamy expanse of flesh and one mischievous mole begging me to kiss it.”
He was pressing her backward into the pillows, following her down as he continued to press kisses to her mole and collarbone. She giggled, her happiness coming out in the odd sound. “How can a mole be mischievous? That doesn’t even make sense.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But yours is.” He straightened up to look at her with mock seriousness. “From now on, you cannot wear gowns that reveal your shoulders or I shall be forced to strip you naked and ravish you.”
He meant the words as a tease. She knew that, but her mood began to fade as fear crept in. “Is that what you are going to do to me? Am I to be ravished?”
He sobered as well, though the hunger burned in his eyes. It hadn’t taken over, but it was there. “I shall do only what you want, Helaine. You shall keep your virginity.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to keep it. Not now, with her body bare to him while he spoke so honestly to her. But she didn’t say that. Instead, she nodded. A tiny dip of her chin while his hand stroked from her shoulder down across the swell of her breast until he cupped her boldly. She opened her mouth on a gasp, and then shuddered as his thumb stroked back and forth over her tightened nipple.
“You have the sweetest nipples ever,” he said as his gaze left her face to look at what he was doing. “Tight, dusky, and they make you do the most wonderful things.”
She licked her lips, trying to focus while her nipple seemed to tingle with fire under his strokes. “What things?” she asked.
“This,” he said. Then he grabbed her nipple between two fingers and rolled it back and forth.
She cried out in surprise. The tingling fire had abruptly shot flames straight to her core. Her head pressed backward and her back arched more fully into his hand.
“Exactly that!” he said as his other hand cupped her and began its own ministrations.
Good Lord, she had never realized how very wonderful her breasts could feel. As she lay there, her body burning, he stroked her breasts, shaping them, holding them, and yes, tweaking her nipples in the most amazing ways.
“No man has ever done this to you before me,” Robert said, his words half question, half statement. “Every time I touch you, it is like you are surprised by the pleasure.”
“No one,” she gasped.
He grinned, the possessive glint flashing briefly before he lowered his head. “Then let me show you more.” He put his mouth on her nipple and began to suck, pulling it deeply—rhythmically—into his mouth, where he stroked it with his tongue.
She lost herself to the sensations. Had he done this to her before? In the inn? She didn’t remember. She did know, however, that he’d never brought her to this place before. A sea of sensation where her body became a needful thing.
She felt his hands on her waist, pulling her gown down. She lifted her hips joyfully, helping him strip away the layers of velvet that only suffocated her. A moment later she kicked it aside such that she wore only her best stockings tied to her thighs and her half boots. His mouth continued on her breasts, one then the other, while his hands stroked over her belly and across her hips. Over and over he touched the edge of her stockings, toying with the ties, touching the edge where fabric met flesh.
Then his mouth left her nipple to press kisses to the underside of her breast, then lower and lower. Her belly shivered as the slight stubble of his chin rubbed against her. But it wasn’t unpleasant. In truth, it made a delightful contrast to his lips and his tongue.
“We are well above everyone up here,” he said against her belly button. “You may scream if you like.”
Scream? She never screamed. But she didn’t have the breath to speak as his fingers shifted on her legs. He was lying down beside her as he moved, but in the reverse. His legs were by her shoulder, his mouth traveling farther down her belly. She wanted to touch him, but his clothing was in the way.
“Stop, stop!” she gasped. “At least take off your boots!”
He paused what he was doing, pushing up enough to look at her. “Yes, of course,” he said. “But only the boots. I shan’t risk more.”
She didn’t understand what he meant. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that she didn’t want to know what he meant so she blocked it from her mind. Meanwhile, he was drawing off his boots while the fire in her blood began to cool. She didn’t move, though. She was too afraid of disturbing the glorious mindlessness of what was happening. So she watched him, seeing the powerful lines of his body even through the covering of his clothes.
“Take off more, Robert,” she said. “Please let me see you as you are seeing me.”
He looked at her, and her body flushed again at the hunger in his gaze. “I am not so lovely, you know.”
She smiled. “Let me be the judge of that.” She began to push herself upright, but he stroked a hand across her shoulder. “Don’t move, Helaine. Not even an inch.”
“But—”
“I love looking at you.”
She had no answer to that. She had never thought herself to be ugly, but neither had she believed herself a beauty. There had never been a belief that her looks could catch her a husband even before her father had made his ridiculous blunder. But when Robert looked at her like that, she felt stunningly powerful. As if she were a goddess and he her worshipper. She hadn’t expected that. Not with a man as powerful as Robert. But that was how he made her feel.
“Your shirt, Robert,” she said, liking the way her voice sounded deep and commanding. “Let me see you.”
