‘Oh,’ she said again, but this time with a knowing glint in her eye. Her beautiful blush was fading, and her mouth was starting to curve into a shy but eloquent smile. She slipped her fingers out from under his, teasingly stroking his palm as she did so. She was beginning to understand this game of theirs. And, he suspected, to enjoy it very much.
Jon slowly removed the pins that fastened the front panel of her gown. It fell forward, revealing the simple white chemise beneath and the ties of her skirt. His eyes widened-she wore no corset. There was only a single layer of lawn between his fingers and her breasts.
She read his reaction immediately. ‘I…I had to be able to dress myself without help,’ she whispered.
Practical as ever. She could hardly summon Hetty to lace her into her stays at midnight. And yet she was shy of the fact that she had come to meet Jon while less than properly clad. He put his hands to her face and kissed her gently, full on the mouth. Her response surprised him. Her lips opened under his and her sweet breath invited him in.
He moaned and deepened the kiss. At the same time, he dropped his fingers to the ties of her skirt. One single tug, and they were undone. Using touch alone, he pushed the gown off her shoulders so that it slithered down her body to pool at her feet. It made almost no sound, for the fabric was old and soft. One day, Jon would dress her in the finest silks and satins, fabrics that would rustle luxuriously when he peeled them away to reveal the glories beneath.
Glories they were. He could not resist stepping back to admire her. Somewhere, she had kicked off her shoes, for she was now clad in only a chemise and stockings. That thin chemise did nothing to conceal her breasts-small, pert and the delicious colour of cream ripening in the skimming pan. Under Jon’s appreciative gaze, her nipples rose and darkened, straining up towards him. It was the most erotic vision he had ever seen.
Jon’s body reacted instantly. Shocked at his own callow response, he heard himself groan aloud.
‘Jon? Is something wrong?’
Absolutely nothing was wrong. Nothing at all. Except that, if he did not put his lips to those perfect pouting nipples, his body might explode.
He threw off his coat and waistcoat and glanced towards the bed in the corner. No, not there. Here, in the warmth. Here, where every inch of her skin would glow.
He set his hands on her bare shoulders. A fleeting touch. ‘How beautiful you are there, lit by the flames. Give me a moment.’
She frowned, puzzled, though she did not move from her place. But her frown melted away, as she watched him pull off his cravat and then drag the bed out from the corner and into the space in front of the fire. He had tumbled the colourful cushions into a heap in the middle.
‘Will it please you to sit, my lady?’ He waved a hand towards the bed. Then he held it out to her with exaggerated courtesy.
Beth’s stomach lurched. The bed was only two steps away, the two most important steps of her life. She hesitated for a fraction too long.
‘Beth?’ He sounded uncertain, troubled.
Beth hesitated no longer. She placed her fingers in his and squeezed gently. ‘I swear that is a throne you have prepared for me,’ she said lightly, nodding towards the piles of silken cushions.
It was the reassurance he seemed to need. He did not give her a chance to move. He just swept her up into his arms and laid her down on the bed, arranging the cushions for her head and back. She allowed her body to sink deep into the unaccustomed luxury. ‘Ah, that is wonderful,’ she sighed, turning her face against the silk and breathing deeply. It had a fragrance of its own, of exotic places where the sun shone fiercely and the sky was too blue to be captured by any painter’s palette. She was in a dream. She must be. Such bliss could not be real.
He was still standing, staring down at her, watching her every movement. She stroked the fingers of one hand over the velvet coverlet and purred like a contented cat. ‘Mmm. How comfortable this is. But a little lonely, I would say. Do you think there is room for two?’ She lifted her naked arms invitingly.
‘Aye, provided we snuggle together a little.’ His voice seemed to have become lower than normal.
‘That sounds…er…a most practical approach.’ Beth gave a nervous giggle. Enough! She could not bear to wait any longer. ‘Would you care to try the experiment? Jon?’ She stretched her arms even more towards him.
In a second, he was lying beside her, pulling her close. She could feel the heat of him through the layers of his shirt and her chemise. His heart was thrumming. Or was it hers? It felt like the pulse of a drum, linking their two bodies. But not close enough.
She pushed at the fabric of his shirt where it opened at the collar, exposing the deeply tanned skin of his neck and upper chest. ‘There
Beth had just enough sense left to appreciate the risk he described. Her gown must not be torn; nor must his shirt. She took a deep breath and applied herself to his buttons. Unfortunately, her fingers seemed to have forgotten their role. They would not obey her.
Jon laughed and raised one of her hands to his mouth. A kiss, and then the nibbling began again. Beth felt as if her insides were melting, and glowing fit to outdo the fire.
‘Let me,’ he said softly, laying her fingers against his neck while he found and undid his shirt buttons. ‘And now, what is your will, my lady?’
His shirt was open to the waist and free of his riding breeches. The invitation was obvious, but he was going slowly, out of concern for Beth. He was allowing her to set the pace she wanted.
Oh, how she loved this man! And how she wanted him! Desire was driving her now. All thoughts of missish propriety were long forgotten. With one delicious movement, she slid her fingers into the gap, then stroked up across his chest and shoulders, to push the shirt from his body. ‘Ah.’ The single word emerged as half-sigh, half- groan. He was beautiful. And in the firelight, his body was glowing with a golden warmth. Her knight, her golden knight. He would be hers, at last.
His mouth came down on hers, seeking, probing, gently at first, but once she began to respond, he became more demanding. He sucked at her lips and then he nibbled them, just as he had done her fingers, though the sensation was even more arousing on her mouth. Beth closed her eyes and gave herself up to her other senses. Emboldened by the darkness, she touched the tip of her tongue to his and felt an answering groan rippling through his body and into hers. She gasped his name, but it made no sound at all, for he swallowed her very breath and deepened the kiss yet more. Their tongues began to touch and tangle. They were united, in taste, in touch, even in the air they breathed.
When, at last, Jon broke the kiss, they were both gasping like drowning men pushing up to the surface of the sea. But if this was drowning, Beth would gladly give herself up to it. Her whole being was soft and molten, and as pliable as potter’s clay. She felt as though Jon’s kisses had dissolved her bones, leaving her formless, ready to take some exquisite new shape under his hands. She wanted to be enfolded in his arms once more, to fill the space that his gentle embrace would create.
The silence lengthened. He had gone from her. Reluctantly, apprehensively, Beth opened her eyes. ‘Jon?’ Her voice quavered.
‘I am here.’ He was over by the window. Beth moved just in time to see him extinguish the oil lamp. The candle by the door had already been snuffed out. ‘Forgive me,’ he said softly. ‘I did not mean to alarm you, but I thought you might prefer the dark. Now we have only the glow of the fire. Does it trouble you? I can screen it if you prefer.’
Without light, Beth would not be able to feast her gaze on her golden knight. ‘No, it does not trouble me.’ She swallowed and then added, greatly daring, ‘Though your absence did.’ Shocked by her own forwardness, Beth closed her eyes and tried to force herself to relax into the cushions. After a moment, she felt the bed dip as Jon sat down. She thought she could hear him struggling with his boots. And she was sure she heard a muttered curse. She giggled nervously. She could not help it.
‘It appears I am quite useless without a valet to pull off my boots.’
There was laughter in his voice. ‘I could help you, if you wish?’
‘Good God, no!’ he exclaimed, still laughing. ‘I could not cope with the sight of you kneeling at my feet. It is difficult enough as it is.’
‘Perhaps you should buy boots that do not fit quite so snugly?’
‘I may tell you, ma’am, that it is not the snug fit of my boots that is troubling me at this precise moment.’
