Her Virtuous Viscount - Scarlett Scott Page 0,49

she must make the most of this time they did have together. She must not be greedy. They had an agreement. It was for the best.

His tongue swept past her lips, delving into her mouth. She moaned as her body came to life. Her breasts felt achy and full, her nipples tightened to hard buds that longed for his mouth. Her core was throbbing and drenched. Though it was shameful, she wanted him. Here and now.

She wanted to erase his memories of the woman he had once loved.

The woman who had caused the rift between him and his Grandmère.

The woman who haunted him still.

She wanted to heal him. To please him. As he deepened the kiss, she grew brave. Her hand slid from his waist to the front placket of his trousers. Her palm skidded over the undeniable ridge. The knowledge that he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him only heightened her need. Perhaps she ought to have removed her hand. But she could not force herself to. Instead, her fingers curled around his length.

Hyacinth nipped at his lip. He growled and tore his mouth from hers. His breathing ragged, his eyes dark and fathomless, he looked down at her. He was so beautiful, he made her ache.

“Make love to me,” she whispered.

“Good God,” he said, his tone guttural.

For a moment, she feared she had shocked him. That she had gone too far.

But he dashed her worries in the next moment when he kissed her again, so soundly, her knees threatened to give.

Everything else in the world fell away in the face of this man.

Nothing and no one existed but him.

He cupped her face with the most reverent of touches, as if she were fashioned of the finest Sèvres porcelain. Kissed her so sweetly she thought she might weep.

Tom took her hand in his. “Come.”

Fingers tangled, they raced to the bedchamber like a pair of children who feared getting caught sneaking into the kitchens. The servants remained discreetly distant as they barged over the threshold, slamming the door closed at their backs.

In her haste, Hyacinth stepped on the hems of her skirts and nearly tumbled to the floor. But Tom was there, and he caught her about the waist, keeping her from falling. A startled laugh burst from her.

“You are so damn beautiful,” Tom said, his molten-brown gaze burning into hers.

She clutched at his broad shoulders, a swift rush of tenderness overwhelming her, joining the hunger. The laughter fled. She tugged his head back down to hers, sealing their lips. She had never before felt cherished or desired. Not until this man.

With her mouth, she showed him all the words clogging up within her. All the pent-up emotion: gratitude, joy, yearning. He lit her up from the inside as his hands worked over the evening gown she had selected with great care. One of her best, layers of cool, green silk, trimmed with pink rosebuds. He found the fastenings with ease, undoing buttons, removing hooks from eyes. Her flounces fell away, dropping to the floor unheeded.

Her hands were on him, too. He had been the first man she had helped to disrobe. The intimate act had not shocked her; rather, it had given her a sense of power. After last night, her fingers knew where to go first. Together, they shed his coat and waistcoat. She undid the knot of his necktie.

He rained a series of hot kisses down her throat. “I have been waiting all day to see you. To touch you. God, what you do to me, woman. I cannot get enough of you.”

She knew the feeling. Hyacinth grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked it from his trousers. In her haste, she ripped off one of his buttons. It flew to the carpet, followed not long thereafter by his shirt. Warm, delicious male flesh was hers to explore.

Her tournure and petticoats dropped. Because she had known where this night would lead, she had eschewed a corset cover. Instead, the new corset she had purchased earlier in the day—commissioned by another lady who had become enceinte and the perfect size for Hyacinth—was on display. Tom paused, taking a moment to look at her, his expression one of undeniable appreciation.

“Do you like my new corset?” she dared to ask.

Because of course, she had purchased it with him in mind. When she had first trailed her fingers over its opulence earlier in the day, she had envisioned just this moment, revealing it to him. Tom

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