of base excitement through her. Every breath she took sent a shiver over her skin. Decadent heat licked over her as she arched, thrusting her breasts toward the window. Win’s hard weight pressed into her back. He grunted as his thick erection nudged between her buttocks. “What you do to me, Poppy.”
He touched her hair, tilting her head just slightly to get at her neck, and his words vibrated through her as he murmured against her skin, “ ‘Through the dancing poppies stole, a breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.’ ” His teeth grazed her. “You are the spark that lights my soul, Boadicea.”
Then his hands… those big, rough hands glided along her tender skin, touching her aching nipples in brief acknowledgment before sliding down. An inarticulate sound left her as his fingers delved between her thighs.
Her legs trembled as she parted them further. For him. The feel of him teasing, and the window like a big eye upon her, not letting her hide. His broad chest rocked against her shoulder blades with each breath he took as he explored her with slow, gentle strokes.
“Softly,” he whispered. “Always so softly, until the moment I take you hard.”
Gods, but she wanted it. Fast and hard. From behind, until she couldn’t stand, couldn’t think of anything other than him and how she felt when she was under his control. He set her free. Undone, her forehead thunked against the glass, her eyes tightly shut. But his arm snaked around her, his free hand coming up to cup just beneath her chin. He forced her head up, made her pay attention. His reflection was a blur in the glass, all but his eyes that gleamed in the dark.
“Do you want me, Poppy?” The long length of his cock ground into her. “Here?”
Her knees buckled. Only his arm about her kept her from falling. “Yes,” she managed. “Yes.”
He pushed a finger into her. A brief invasion to make her quake. His hand slipped away, leaving her wanting. His lips touched her cheek. “Show me.” He stepped back, far enough so that she might turn.
Her legs wobbled, and the dressing gown slithered to the floor as she faced him. He stood before her, tall and proud, his scars white in the shadows of his face. She traced the one that led to his mouth. Back and forth, she rubbed the small knot of scar tissue that bisected his upper lip. Win’s deep-set gaze was a living thing, burning her skin. His lips parted for her, and her thumb slipped inside him. Heat and wetness. He sucked her with firm pulls, and she swayed. Her thumb slipped free when he spoke.
“Undress me, wife.”
He’d taken off his waistcoat, but still remained in shirtsleeves and trousers. His braces emphasized the width of his shoulders and the length of his lean torso. No words were spoken as her hands slipped beneath the suspenders and slid one then the other off. Crisp linen met her palm, and beneath it his heart pounded. Poppy rested there and shivered, not from cold but for the want of him.
Poppy cupped his cheeks. One smooth cheek, the other bumpy with scars. Slowly, she kissed his ravaged cheek, and his eyes fluttered closed. His lips hovered near hers, close enough to touch, but he did not let her kiss him.
“Finish what you started.” His voice was low, nearly stern, but a glint of tender amusement lit his eyes. A dare.
Holding his gaze, she went to work on his shirt. His body canted the slightest bit as she tugged his buttons free. Countless times she had undressed him and still it felt new, slightly forbidden. The heat in his gaze and the sound of his unsteady breath, ratcheting up with each button she eased free, sent her own need rising. And all the time, she was conscious of the window at her back and the humid air kissing her hot skin.
With efficiency born of experience, she pulled his shirt over his head and then simply looked at him. He’d called her lovely. He had no idea what he was to her. His strength, the hatch-work of his scars, the dark golden chest hair that gilded a path down to the bulge beneath his low-lying trousers—all of it made her dizzy with need.
Her mouth found the thick slash along his neck. He swallowed hard as she licked it. She placed a kiss on the hollow of his throat, loving the way his flesh jumped and his