The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress - Anna Campbell Page 0,31
with one hand. "What shall I do now?"
"Let me watch you undress." His voice turned hoarse, as the prospect of seeing her unclothed shot a shuddering thrill through him.
She didn’t move to cooperate, and the comprehensive glance she cast him seared like fire. "I hope you intend to return the favor."
"By God…" He straightened to reach for her, then sucked in a huge breath and told himself to wait. His roaring impatience was part of the rich mix of pleasure.
That smile flirting with her lips deepened, and he saw her uncertainty fade as she recognized the dominion she wielded over him. With taunting languor, she picked up a chair and placed it on the rich red and blue rug in the center of the room – and in the center of his view.
Selina cast him a sidelong glance, to confirm she caught his attention. As if any red-blooded man could look away. She lifted one foot to the chair and slid her skirts up to reveal the shapely legs he recalled so vividly. But there was a difference between catching a glimpse in a rattling, swaying carriage and now, when time spun away from them along a bright path.
His gaze traced the neat ankle in its white stocking and the taut calf. Up to the sweet little knee and the pretty blue garter he’d already remarked upon. Pale, slender thighs disappeared into a tumble of skirts. A growl of hunger escaped him, and he tightened his grip on the baseboard.
He expected her to fumble with the ribbon around her ankles as she removed her shoe. But while his turmoil grew, she seemed to become calmer. Blood thrummed like thunder in his ears as she took off the blue satin slipper, then untied her garter to slide the fragile stocking down.
Even her feet were pretty. His eyes feasted on the high arch and the small toes. By the time she did the same with the other leg, he was in such a lather, he was close to forgetting his own name.
Brock retained just enough sense to notice at least one thing. "You’re not wearing drawers," he forced out of a tight throat.
She lowered her foot from the chair and faced him. To his regret, her skirts slid down to lend her a spurious modesty. "No."
"I wish I’d known when we had dinner."
This smile was sly with sensual awareness. "I thought you might like a surprise."
"I do." His voice scraped out. Only she had the power to steal his ability to speak. "Don’t."
She raised her eyebrows. "Don’t?"
"While we’re together, don’t wear them."
When her eyes met his, he saw that this teasing game lured her to the edge of madness, too. "Very well."
Satisfaction filled him. He gestured toward her gown. "The dress next."
"You’ll have to help me. It does up the back."
"You want me to play your maid?"
"Yes."
He straightened. His cock swelled against his breeches. She already knew that. When she’d completed that slow inspection, her attention had lingered on his arousal. "Come here then. Although I can’t promise I’ll be too deft."
"Shall I call Mary?"
"No, damn you."
She gave a brief laugh and sauntered across with a sway of her hips that heated his blood. "Here, my lord."
She turned and bundled that wealth of hair up in both hands so he could reach her lacing. He leaned in and breathed deep of her jasmine scent, before he worked at the back of the dress. With each inch of flesh he uncovered across her shoulders, need escalated.
He forced himself to concentrate. The task took far too long, but at last the gown gaped open to reveal stays over a sheer white shift.
Brock told himself he wouldn’t touch her while she undressed, but he couldn’t resist placing his mouth on the graceful curve where her neck met her shoulder. She released a long sigh of surrender as he scraped his teeth over the sensitive flesh.
For a luscious moment, she sagged against him. Then she straightened and stepped away.
"What about your corset?" he asked, voice raw with desire.
When she bent her head, he stifled the urge to taste the nape of her neck. "It hooks in the front. I can do it."
Probably better she did. This drawn-out seduction became unmitigated torture. "I want to see your breasts."
Without turning around, she wriggled out of the gown and let it pool at her bare feet. His eyes feasted on the rear view of Selina wearing only her undergarments and that extravagant wealth of hair.