Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,69

had on the bridge, with joy.

She could tell he was being careful, as if he wasn’t sure she knew her own mind. She pressed the back of his neck and kissed him so he might believe her. She used her tongue against his palette until he held her head and they shared dueling kisses that released their mutual passion. She felt the desire in him, controlled but hot.

His mouth moved to her neck while his hands explored her body with firm caresses. Each touch thrilled her and removed her further from the world. Glorious pleasure astonished her when he caressed her breast. Her nightdress offered little protection from his expert teases. Then the nightdress fell too, and she almost wept from how good it felt. No city now. No chamber. No walls and no world. Just a tightening space with him and her and incredible sensations.

Strong arms lifted her. She floated down gently and felt the linen beneath her nakedness. She saw her breasts, firm and high, their tips so hard that even the air titillated her. Beside the bed, a white shirt billowed. She looked over to see Kevin watching her while he undressed, his gaze full of hard lights and his expression firmed by desire.

He joined her and gathered her into his arms. A kiss, then he watched his hand make feather caresses on her breasts. He looked in her eyes. “It is charming that you do not realize just how beautiful you are.”

His head dipped and his tongue flicked at one tight tip. Her breath caught at what that did to her, how a tremble moved down her body, carrying pleasure through her core. Again and again he made it happen. She exalted in her astonishing responses. The caresses began again, exploring, knowing, each one beckoning her further into their intimacy.

She came out of herself a little when his caresses lowered and he touched between her thighs. She knew it should not all go one way. When she reached down to caress him too, he took her hand and gathered the other and held them both above her head. “Another time,” he said.

Laid out like that, her body vulnerable and wanting, she could only accept. With his mouth and hands, he commanded her toward abandon. She went gladly, exalting in how pleasure and desire ruled all of her, even her awareness. Helpless to the slow, long climb in her arousal, she gave up control and kept wanting more.

Suddenly, every sense, every need, collected to one, small spot. He stroked her there and the intensity made her thrash. He stilled her legs with his own and soothed her with a kiss on her cheek, but still he forced the sharp pleasure higher. She almost wept with need, but just as she did, a wonderful burst of pleasure left her breathless and stunned.

He moved over her, starting to fill her. He released her hands and she grasped at him, the only reality where she dwelled. The feel of him in her was so right. Perfect. Her body and soul welcomed that fullness as a wonderful completion to what had happened in this bed.

* * *

“If you are cold, I can light a low fire.”

The breeze coming from the terrace had chilled with the night. He could close the windows but enjoyed the fresh contrast on his warm skin.

Rosamund nestled closer, tucked under the coverlet. “This is fine. Pleasant.”

He bundled her more, and pulled her under his arm.

“Do you want me to go?” she asked, her voice muffled against his body.

“I’d prefer you stay.”

He would like to see her face a while longer, for one thing. She appeared peaceful and happy. Contented. That heartened him. He knew a lot about pleasure, but his partners had never been like Rosamund. His lessons came from the brothels of London and Paris. He realized that this was the first visit when he had not sought out the expertise found in Paris’s best houses. That was a part of this city he normally looked forward to.

Rosamund’s delight in the bed even now, luxuriating in how their bodies still touched and the pillows created a soft nest, made him wonder if this was new to her, along with several other things tonight. Perhaps that scoundrel had only taken her quickly, up against walls or on attic floors. As a servant, she could not show up at his chamber door, the way she had come to this one tonight. She would dare not dally in bed