Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,57

in short order, after unfastening the fall front, he tugged down his trousers and stood entirely bare before her, hoping he wasn’t frightening to look at. A certain part of him felt as fierce as an infantryman’s pike.

Pulse racing, he swept an arm behind her knees and lifted her off her feet, cradling her for the three paces to the bed, where he gently lay her down.

“Mm,” she said. “Very comfortable.”

He didn’t feel like talking. Instead, he undid the simple bow at the top of her chemise, widening the neckline until her breasts were exposed.

At last!

She was as beautiful and perfect as he’d imagined. Immediately, he bent low to kiss the valley between her full mounds, his hands cupping each before he took one of her pert nipples into his mouth.

She gasped, making him smile against her soft skin even as he licked and sucked her rosy peak. When she arched off his bed, he slipped an arm beneath her, holding her up so he could easily give similar treatment to her other nipple. And all the while, he breathed in the alluring scent of her, a heady blend of citrus and jasmine.

Her hands sank into his hair and tugged, then pushed, and then tugged again as if she couldn’t decide what she wanted yet mindlessly wanted more.

Happy to oblige, he moved down her body, settling between her thighs before lifting the hem of her chemise, rendering her motionless.

“Jasper,” she said on a panting breath, which shot bolts of desire straight through him.

“Julia,” he returned. Without hesitating, he kissed her most intimate spot, burying his face against her soft curls.

Again, she gasped. Her hand shot down to cover herself and ward him off.

“It’s all right,” he told her.

“It’s ... I don’t know. I didn’t think...,” and she trailed off, but removed her hand.

Carefully, slowly, he drew apart the petals of her female flesh, hearing her intake of breath when he exposed her little nub.

He could wait no longer, touching it with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh!” she cried out. “Ohhhh!”

He took that as a good sign. She wasn’t a prude but a passionate woman, ready to experience everything he had to offer.

To that end, he continued a tongue-lashing assault that had her writhing beneath him. He could coax her to a climax so easily, but there was much more to experience. Kissing her inner thigh, feeling the goosebumps raise under his fingers, he nibbled her softly.

When she moaned, when her dampness was obvious, he reached for the finest French protection in his bedside drawer and slid it on. The very act itself, seeing her curious eyes watching him intently, nearly made him spend.

“May I?” he asked, never having voiced the question at this late moment before, yet wanting her permission all the same.

“Yes, please,” she said. “I am all a-tingle. Hot and...” She fisted her hands on his silk counterpane. “If you don’t quench the fire within me, I shall have to do it myself.”

“I promise, I will take care of you.”

“I think I would reach the pinnacle,” she said, her eyes firmly closed now, “if you merely blew your breath upon me.”

He was going to do a damned bit more than that. Seating the head of his cock to her ready opening, he stroked it up and down, coating the thin sheath he wore with her sweet juice.

“Despite your demands, we’ll go slowly so as to cause you the least discomfort. I want—”

The sudden knocking at his bedroom door seemed impossible. He was master of his house, lord of his domain, and the only other occupants were his servants, trusted staff who knew better than to interrupt him in the middle of an assignation.

Jasper hoped he’d imagined it, that it was simply the sound of his heart — or hers.

The knock came again. He knew it was real when Julia sat up, eyes wide, and grabbed for the counterpane to cover herself.

Someone was going to lose his or her place of service in about ten seconds. Pushing himself off the bed, Jasper stalked to the door and, bare naked, yanked it open.

Mr. Greer stood there. How unfortunate. Jasper quite liked his butler, but the man would have to go. Even if he’d been holding a bottle of the finest champagne, he would be relieved of it without a nod of gratitude and then given the boot.

“Your employment is terminated.”

The man didn’t bat an eyelid. “Yes, my lord. Lady Worthington is downstairs,” Mr. Greer said, keeping his gaze trained on