Tarnished Knight - By Bec McMaster Page 0,31

she kissed him again, lips tracing his own. He would never be handsome in the way society dictated, but she loved the way he looked. Hard, powerful, full of a dangerous, feral grace. A man. Not like those dandies of the Echelon, who padded their coats or wore girdles. Rip was solid muscle.

Slowly she kissed his cheek, tongue tracing the heavy scar through his eyebrow. Rip’s breath came hard, his hips flexing beneath her.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he whispered.

Sliding a hand between them, she cupped it around the heavy length of his erection. “I’ve some idea.”

“If you don’t stop that, I’m gonna ‘ave you on your back,” Rip breathed.

Tempting. She looked up and he saw it in her eyes. His own narrowed, darkness leeching out from the pupils as if to swallow his irises. The hunger.

Catching her hips, he rolled them and Esme fell back with a breathless laugh. Pinning her wrists to the rug, he loomed over her, his hips resting between hers. Careless of the fall of her skirts, she locked her legs around his hips, her stockings gliding against the smooth leather of his trousers.

Black eyes met hers. The hunger in all its ascendancy. Esme lay still, surrendering to him completely. Knowing how to control the fierce fury within him.

For long seconds, he breathed in harshly, clenching his eyes shut as if to fight it. Esme simply relaxed, letting him control her. The desire for sex and blood warred within him. She just had to give it a little push in the right direction.

“Touch me,” she whispered, arching her back just enough to press her hips against his. The friction made her breath catch. “I want your hands on me.”

His eyes met hers; demon-black. “Where?”

“Undo my buttons.”

The complexity of the task made him focus. Esme slid her hands over his neck, luxuriating in the feel of his knuckles against her skin as he slipped each button free. The frock-coat tugged open, her shirt-waist pressed tight against her skin.

Rip leaned down and brushed his mouth against hers. She could feel the tremors in his body, the rigid steel of his arms as he held himself immobile. Slowly he divested her of the shirt, leaving only a corset and shift. The scent of her violet water grew stronger as he undid the busk that ran down the front of her corset and Esme gasped against his lips as his hand curved over her breast.

“Yes,” she whispered, her hips flexing against his.

Slow. Gentle. Torturous. Rip lowered his mouth to her throat, but only briefly. With a sharp exhale he swiftly moved lower, his lips trailing over the curve of each plump breast, lips dragging her shift lower. Tugging it down, his tongue darted over her nipple as he slowly suckled it into his mouth.

Esme groaned. It had been so long since she’d been touched that she couldn’t remember if it had ever felt as good as this. Teeth rasped over her nipple and she couldn’t hold still any more.

“John,” she whispered. “Oh, God, John. I want you. Now.” Darting a hand between them she reached for the buttons on his trousers.

Rip shook her away. “No,” he rasped. “Need to be in control. Just lemme--” He took her mouth again, breathing hard against her lips. “Lemme go slow.”

The rain rattled on the tin roof. She should have been cold but Esme barely noticed the chill against her naked skin. All she could see was Rip, his shoulders blotting out the entire world. All she could feel were his fingers, sliding down her skirts and dragging them up. Fist bunching in the velvet.

The chill bit at her legs, but she moaned into his mouth, cupping his cheeks and kissing him breathlessly. His hands slid over her stockings and Esme spread her thighs. “Yes.” A gasp.

Fingers trembled on her garter, then the smooth skin of her inner thigh. When he found the damp cotton of her draws he let out another rough exhale. Tugging them open, finding her, wet and ready and arching beneath him…

It was bliss. Esme moaned, turning her head and sinking her teeth into the flesh of his shoulder as his fingertips darted over her heated flesh. White light exploded behind her eyes, the world disappearing until all that remained was Rip and the dull roar of the rain on the roof. Her body trembling, trembling… On the precipice.

Then his hand was gone. Esme blinked. No.

“Get this off.” He paused and tugged at her drawers. Fighting