perfectly well on her own, but her assertion had been promptly ignored. They made it all the way to the marquess’s apartments, and over the threshold, before she realized she should have directed him to her chamber instead.
He stopped on the threshold. “There is not a stick of bloody furniture in here.”
His voice echoed in the empty, cavernous room.
“I had it all removed,” she admitted. “I spent most of my time in London, and I could not bear to look at your things.”
“I trust there is a bed in the marchioness’s chamber?” he asked wryly.
She winced. “Yes, of course. You may put me down now, Jack. I am fully capable of walking.”
“I am never letting you go again, woman,” he growled. “It is a damned good thing you have come to your senses, because I was not going to sleep on the floor.”
She giggled as he carried her to her chamber, which was fully furnished and prepared. “I am not planning on sleeping at all tonight,” she announced.
He made a low sound and kicked the door closed behind them. “Wicked woman.”
“Very wicked,” she assured him, grinning. “I trust you do not mind.”
“I would not have it any other way.” He lowered her to her feet at last.
For a moment, they stared at each other.
Then, they were in each other’s arms. Their lips were fused. His tongue was in her mouth. She sucked on it greedily, starved for him, desperate for him to be inside her. Clothing began to fall away. Her gown went first, then his coat and waistcoat. Shoes and boots were discarded in feverish haste. Stockings disappeared. Corset, petticoat, trousers, shirt, smalls and drawers went next.
Nell found herself on her back in the middle of her bed, Jack’s powerful body a delicious weight atop her. He kissed her deeply, sweetly, tenderly. His lips angled over hers, giving rather than taking, telling her without words how much he worshiped her. And she kissed him back, freely, with all the unfettered love in her heart. She kissed him back with gratitude and desire and so much awe.
He broke the kiss and buried his face in her throat. Between them, his cock was thick and stiff. Her cunny was achy and wet. She wanted him inside her. But Jack was in no rush.
He bit her earlobe, then licked the hollow beneath it, sending a pulse of heat to her core. “I love you, Nellie.” He dragged his lips down her throat, then sank his teeth into a particularly sensitive cord on her neck. “I love you everywhere, in every way. I love your skin, your beautiful breasts, your luscious mouth.” He kissed a path along her shoulder, before giving her another playful nip. “I love the way you smell and the sounds you make when you spend. I love the way you taste, and I love the way you feel wrapped around me when I am deep inside you.”
She undulated against him, his words heightening her need. “I want you inside me now, Jack. Please.”
“I like the way you beg, too.” He kissed down her breasts. “I like your pink, pebbled nipples.” He sucked on first one peak and then the other, wringing a moan from her. “I like the way you moan, too. I am going to make you moan a whole lot more before the night is over, Nellie darling.”
Her pearl was pulsing.
His sensual torture was exquisite.
He was exquisite. And hers. All hers.
“Tell me what else you like,” she urged him, her voice throaty.
He smiled against the curve of her breast. “I like biting your nipples until you make that sweet little mewl and then licking away the sting. You do not want that now, do you, my love?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “I do.”
He caught a nipple in his teeth and tugged. Sensation ricocheted through her, pooling between her legs. She grew even wetter. His tongue flicked over her, blunting the painful pleasure as he had promised.
He hummed his approval and moved lower. Kisses trailed down her belly. He licked into her navel, his hands caressing her hips. “I like the smoothness of your skin here, all your womanly curves.” Jack’s hands slid to her inner thighs, spreading her wider. Opening her. “And I fucking love your cunny and how drenched it gets for me.”
She moaned again, wanting his mouth on her. It was so close, his beautiful lips a scant inch away. “It is your cunny,” she told him, writhing beneath the onslaught of that emerald gaze. “All yours.