And he was set to deny them both? Again? Not if she had anything to say about it.
She’d had enough of being quiet. Enough of not stating her wishes, of blending into the background, first with her husband and then without him. Enough of not being clear about what she wanted.
Time to change that, starting now. “Just so we have clarity between us, Lord Tremayne, I am quite willing—more than willing actually—to have you…have you…”
Why was she dithering? Just say it, Dorothea Jane. “I would prefer you stay. Would like for us to come together fully.” He looked a bit nonplussed. While her fingers strangled the damp towel, she forged ahead. “To be perfectly blunt, I don’t want you to leave—and leave me aching again. And after being confronted with your magnificent chest, I’d like to see the rest of you naked, to feel you pressed ag-ahummm—”
Without having to finish her pathetic recital, he knew. Knew and took command.
His arm went around her back and molded her to him. His mouth sang a symphony of lust against hers.
This kiss was nothing like the exploring ones in the carriage, nothing at all like the sensual one he gave her after bringing her to orgasm last night.
Nay, this kiss was hard and hot, urgent, and just a touch shy of savage.
This kiss boiled her blood and dampened her loins faster than she could think he has on too many clothes. As he plundered her mouth with primal intent, her nails scored over the fabric covering his posterior.
With a smothered chuckle at her eagerness, he gave her lips one last bit of intense suction before releasing them. “Shall I?”
While she struggled to comprehend (and kept clawing at his frustrating pantaloons), he dragged his hands past her bottom to grip the hem of her chemise and hauled it over her head.
“Ah, Thea.” He gasped at the sight of her, one unsteady hand going to the ribs discernible beneath her slight breasts. “You’re so thin. So dangerously thin…”
She didn’t take offense, didn’t panic that he found her lack of womanly flesh distasteful. How could she? When the look in his eyes said the concern was for her.
He swiftly used the washcloth to cleanse every inch of skin with the remaining water, and then he scooped her up, carrying her through her feminine bedroom and into the hallway where he unerringly made his way to the master chamber.
She spared scarcely a second to wonder at his murmured, “Like Cyclops…just in t-time…” because upon reaching the trysting room, he placed her on her feet and kissed her again passionately. From her lips, to her shoulder, working his way down until his tingle-giving mouth reached her wrist and then to the tips of her fingers. After sucking not one but two into his mouth and rousing an even deeper hunger, he released her, straightening and raking his gaze over her naked form.
She trembled from the heat in his eyes. Trembled more when he bent to bestow a tender kiss on the bruises above her wrist. “So lovely.”
A blush threatened but there was no time for modesty. “You still have on too many clothes.”
She reached for him but he reached her first, fusing their lips as he used his grasp on her waist to place her square across the mattress. Thea stretched her arms to receive him but he was already skimming his lips down her body as he unfastened his pantaloons, then wrestled with his boots.
His lips stayed busy on the skin of her stomach, tongue circling her navel. She heard the sweet thump of one boot hit the floor. “Hurry,” she ordered, that achy sensation growing between her legs. “Just shove them off and—”
He licked lower and her hips lifted off the bed, her nails scoring the counterpane at her hips, wishing they were sinking into his skin.
And then it was his skin when he finally shed the rest of his clothes and came down over her, the smooth, smooth skin of his shoulders greeting her fingertips.
She welcomed the weight of his body pushing her into the bed, welcomed the reverent slide of his hand up her stomach until he was moving his fingers over the sensitive peak of one tightly bunched nipple.
“My charms are rather…minimal at the moment.” Why did she go and mention that? Even when eating regularly, her “charms” weren’t much above minimal—but did she have to draw his attention to the lack?
Embarrassed, avoiding what she might see in his gaze, Thea flicked hers overhead. Then promptly forgot to worry about her bosom deficit. Because she was staring at the shadowed reflection of his naked buttocks!
So very pale, so very muscular. So very sinful of her, to be salivating over the salacious sight.
Heavens to Hampshire, thank the blazes for the glowing hearth and what it revealed. Her first look at a nude man most definitely did not disappoint. In truth, the titillating sight tripled her ardor in an instant.
Lord Tremayne drew her focus from the mirror when he climbed up her body, wicking his tongue along the path of his fingers until he licked up one barely mounded slope, sending all manner of delight from his tongue to the far reaches of her body. He applied his tongue to the puckered areola and murmured, “Not the size that matters…”
Looking pointedly from her breast to her eyes, he curved his mouth in a slow grin. “It’s the cherry on t-top.”
Holding her gaze, he closed his lips around one aching nipple and delivered sufficient suction to have her back arching off the bed, her hips toward his, and her neck up so she could watch. Where she blinked in surprise, seeing the length of her body bracketed by his.
Miraculously, she looked every bit as voluptuous and alluring as her paired portraits downstairs, only instead of burled wood, she was framed by Lord Tremayne’s hands and body.
For once, she was a naughty nude, and how it made her smile. Made her
