Heiress in Red Silk (Duke's Heiress #2) - Madeline Hunter Page 0,76
fell.
Rosamund handed back the paper around the maid’s shoulders. “I would sign the document, but not because of this. I would do it because you have been honest thus far, so probably would be in the future. You did not steal his idea, did you? It seems to me that if someone is honest, documents are formalities. If someone is a thief, no document will protect me.”
The maid dipped her hand into the tub, then gave him an annoyed look and a little gesture saying he should go.
He returned the same. “Allez.”
“Mais, mam’selle—”
Rosamund looked over, curious. Her gaze met his. She touched the maid’s shoulder. “Yes. Go, please.”
* * *
“Do I get my bath?” she asked when the maid had left.
“Of course.” He walked over and threw himself in a chair. “I’ll watch.”
She considered her extreme dishabille. She hardly needed help in removing what was left of her garments. Being watched while she did that . . . the notion dismayed her, but also stirred her.
She let down the rest of her hair, then propped one foot on the tub’s edge to remove her hose.
“The rest first.” His voice came to her in the silence, from the shadows away from the fire.
She hesitated while she contained the erotic reaction that provoked in her. Feeling both shy and bold, she let her chemise drop and stood naked except for her hose.
No more commands came. And it had been just that, not a request. A little wobbly from the shivers titillating her, she rested her foot on the tub again and peeled down her hose.
The other one required her to move. With her back facing him, she made short work of it, but before she had finished he was behind her, caressing her hips. He kept her like that, bent over her raised leg. His arm embraced the front of her shoulders in support while his hand explored her back and bottom, and his kisses thrilled her neck, shoulders, and spine.
He let her stand then, and embraced her from behind. His palms and fingertips aroused her breasts, skimming and flicking over the tips. Each touch sent an arrow of pleasure down her core. His mouth claimed her neck, making her tremble. Exciting sensations cascaded through her, and each one broke a thread of her control.
A new embrace, with one hand lower. Stroking. Probing. She lost hold of her balance and her mind. She leaned against him while torturous, relentless arousal pleasured and pained. Need began pulsing, absorbing all her thoughts and awareness. His touches left her groaning. Begging.
He bent her again. She found herself facedown on a cushion. The sofa’s rolled arm pressed her stomach while her head lolled on its seat. Her hips rose high and her legs dangled.
Vision blurred, mind confused, she looked back over her shoulder. He stood behind her, his shirt gone now, his torso sculpted by the distant firelight. His gaze met hers.
“Like that,” he said. “I want to see your face.”
His words alone sent a sharp pleasure pulsing between her legs. She wanted him desperately. Only he did not take her then. Instead, he stroked her until he made her need excruciating. Her body shook from it. Her bottom rose higher.
She felt him right there, pressing, and cried out for him. He thrust hard and she moaned in relief. It felt so good. Different from the last time too. She clawed at the cushion and gasped for breath while he thrust again and again. Each new fullness brought her closer to a pleasure all encompassing. And then an unearthly, final tremor began.
* * *
“At least you didn’t lie. I am getting my bath.” Rosamund luxuriated in the tepid water while he washed her. “A very thorough one.”
“It is difficult to keep my hands off you. This way they are useful.” And still on her, even while he made good on his promise.
The sight of her half undressed had obliterated all thoughts of Forestier, the documents, even the enterprise. He had lost his mind when she bent to remove that stocking, and her back had dipped and her bottom curved round and high. He had almost grabbed her right then and thrown her over the sofa’s arm. He was not sorry he’d waited, though. The pleasure she had finally experienced only increased his own.
The erotic memory of her watching him, waiting for him, impatient for him, would not be forgotten. So beautiful. So desirable.
She tucked a long, wet lock behind her ear. “The maid will have apoplexy