A Duchess a Day (Awakened by a Kiss #1) - Charis Michaels Page 0,94
rain. He was so competent, so certain of his physicality. It was like watching a Greek marble statue come to life.
Without taking his eyes from her, he dropped the boots to the floor.
Helena bent to remove her own slippers.
“No. I will serve you.” A wink. “My lady.”
She giggled, and he answered her with a smile, whipping his shirt over his head. His bare chest glowed in the candlelight. Helena gasped. His body was a taut, muscular landscape of bulging shoulders and biceps, flat stomach, and razor ribs.
“Declan,” she whispered, reaching for him. He ignored her, shucking his pants to reveal powerful thighs in loose drawers. His erection was visible through the white linen.
“Now you,” he whispered, coming to her. “Is my lady warm enough?”
“I am on fire,” she whispered.
She wanted to touch him—she wanted nothing more than to touch every part of him—but she felt uncertain. She raised her arms to touch his shoulders, but her fingers hovered just above his skin.
He chuckled and clasped a hand around her waist. He gave a little yank and she toppled, colliding with his bare chest. Her hands made contact, filling with his muscular shoulders. She squeezed and slid down the smooth hardness to rocklike arms.
“May I help you with your dress, my lady?” he asked, reaching around to loosen the fasteners at her spine.
She looked up, and he captured her mouth, kissing her gently as he worked. Helena sagged against him, spent by the sweet softness of his mouth.
When her dress was open along her spine, he peeled it slowly from her shoulders, moving his mouth from her lips to her neck, nibbling her, grazing her skin with the scruff of his beard. The dress fell forward, rolling from her arms and sagging to the floor. Declan stepped back, his eyes hungry, looking at her body where the dress had been.
For a moment, he went very still.
“No corset,” he rasped, staring at her breasts through the thin fabric of her shift.
She shook her head. “There was no time. No stockings or petticoats either.”
He nodded, swallowing hard. He drank in the sight of her. Then slowly, reverently, he came to her. The heat of his bare skin singed her through her shift. Every cell of her body went on high alert, throbbing toward him.
He dipped his head, nuzzled her neck, and then stooped, kissing lower. He pressed his face to her throat, pressing kisses on the indentation above her clavicle. Then he bent lower, sinking, passing over her breasts. He went down on one knee and paused, nuzzling her breasts through her shift. Helena cried out and grabbed his shoulders to stay upright.
He sunk farther still. She felt his breath on her belly, and lower, past the most private part of her. Here he breathed in deeply, his mouth sliding across her core. She startled; her body pulsed with a bolt of pleasure so intense she almost collapsed. But his hands were on her hips, holding her up, massaging, sinking with him.
Now he went lower, dragging his lips down her leg, over her knee. He sat up and allowed his hands to finish the journey, sliding firmly down her leg. When he reached her ankle, he encircled it, taking hold like a cuff. After a moment, his palm brushed the top of her foot while his thumb ran beneath her heel. Her slipper loosened, hung, and then popped off. He repeated the movement with the other foot.
When she was barefoot, he reached for her hand, and tugged her down to sit on his one raised knee. She sunk like an apple falling from a limb.
“Are you well, my lady?”
She nodded. Words evaded her. Her hands had been on his back, holding on, but she was secure on his knee and began to feel her way around his chest and belly, tracing muscles. Learning the contours and textures of him.
From his vantage point on the floor, one knee raised, his lips were too low to kiss her but perfectly aligned with her breasts. He nuzzled and nipped, licked and sucked, teasing her through the shift. Each swipe of his mouth brought escalating waves of pleasure. It was pleasure that begat need; need that shimmered into pleasure. She wanted more, she wanted everything, she was a vessel of want. She made a whimpering noise, digging her fingers into his hair, pressing his face to her breast.