Page 27

“I prefer the first one, thank you very much,” he told her. He was a bloody idiot. Lucky, but an idiot all the same.

Amelia kissed him before he could say anything else. The kiss was brief, certain, and entirely hers. Her lips were soft and sure against his. Then she slipped from his lap and stood, smoothing her skirts with unhurried hands while he recovered enough sense to rise. His knees felt oddly unreliable. He pressed his palm flat against his thigh and waited for the room to stop swaying.

She looked at the clock upon the mantel, the ticking suddenly loud in the stillness. “Before morning,” she said.

He understood at once, and the understanding settled gravely in him, a quiet weight. “I shall see you home before morning.”

Her gaze returned to him, steady and a little vulnerable, and she nodded. Something eased in her face, and he realized she had braced for an argument. There was nothing further to negotiate. He took her hand, lifted it to his lips, and led her from the drawing room, her fingers laced warm and trusting through his.

He pushed the door to his bedroom open and pulled her inside. Dominic pulled her against his back and trailed his fingers up her stomach, and then he cupped her breast. He could not wait to undress her completely and taste every inch of her skin. “I want you out of this,” he told her.

“Then start undoing the buttons,” she ordered.

He did not need to be told twice. He worked his fingers through all the buttons until her gown pooled open. He pushed it down until her skirts fanned the floor at her feet. She stood before him in nothing but her chemise. That was still too much.

“You have too many clothes on,” she told him.

“I can rectify that…” He pulled his waistcoat open and then pulled his shirt over his head. She had already untied his cravat, so it came off with his shirt.

He pulled his boots off, but left his breeches on. He did not want to rush this. He stalked forward and lifted her into his arms. He set her on the bed and pulled her chemise off. She was gloriously naked before him. He dipped his head and sucked one of her perfect breasts into his mouth as he cupped the other one in the palm of his hand. She moaned, and he sucked harder.

“More,” she begged.

“Anything you want,” he told her.

Dominic kissed down her belly and pushed her legs open wide. He had to taste her. He kissed her inner thigh, and she began to shake. “Easy, love,” he said. “I plan to kiss you everywhere.”

He leaned between her thighs and sucked the sensitive flesh at her core into his mouth. She hissed in a breath, and he took that as encouragement. He slid one of his fingers into her tightness and stroked as he sucked. She bucked beneath him, but he held her down with his other hand. She tasted perfect, and her responses… She might very well be his undoing.

He slid his tongue over her again and again until she tightened around his finger. She screamed his name as she climaxed. Dominic continued to lick her until she shook from the pleasure. Only then did he remove his breeches. “I need you,” he said.

“Come inside me, Dominic,” she ordered. “I want to feel all of you.”

He joined her on his bed and settled between her thighs, then he pushed himself into her tight heat. She wrapped her legs around him, and he began to move, slow at first. Then he couldn’t hold back. He rocked faster and faster inside of her until she was tightening around him. His breathing became ragged as his own release threatened to spill. But she had to come first.

He slid his hand between them and stroked his thumb over her, and she screamed. She squeezed him, and he would swear he saw stars as his release rippled out of him. He had never…it had never…only with her. He lost all ability to think. All he could do was feel, and he never wanted to let her go.

“That was…” Her voice trailed off.

“Yes,” he agreed.

Later, Dominic realized he had arranged an evening without giving the slightest thought to how he would endure its end. The room was quiet around them. A lamp burned low on the table beside his bed, casting a honeyed glow across the sheets. The fire had settled into a soft red glow. Amelia rested against him beneath the coverlet, her loosened hair spilling over his shoulder like spun silk, her breath warm against his collarbone.

He had imagined wanting her. He hadn't imagined the pleasure of lying beside her when nothing was left to arrange, no game to continue, and no clever remark required. The stillness was its own gift. He felt it in the slow rise and fall of her body against his, in the drowsy weight of her hand.

She moved her fingers lightly over his hand, tracing his knuckles, veins, and the small scar near his thumb. “You have a very comfortable bed.”

“I am glad you approve,” he teased. “Should I send you an invitation to join me in it again?”

“Please do not.”

He smiled into her hair, breathing her in. “Was that too bold?”

“Perhaps a little....”

He could have stayed like this until the lamp burned out. Unfortunately, the clock upon the mantel had proved entirely reliable. He had checked it twice, each time hoping he had misunderstood the hour. Each time feeling the small, sharp pang of its truth.

Amelia noticed the second glance. “I have not fallen asleep,” she said.