promised. It was the rest—the unsettling, carnal bit. The bit she’d been imagining since the night of her bath, when he’d stood mere feet away from her, his back turned, his shoulders wide, and she’d washed herself, wishing, strangely, that it had been he washing her.
The bit she’d wanted even more once he’d kissed her in false passion in the Warbling Wren. She’d wanted that kiss to last forever and ever.
But he’d never indicated that he desired such a thing—not until tonight, when darkness had fallen and their conversation had become somehow more honest and clandestine. And he’d told her his secrets and she’d accidentally touched him.
It hadn’t been an accident, though.
She’d wanted to touch him. She’d wanted him to touch her.
And then he had, and it was glorious.
She didn’t care that she shouldn’t allow it.
He lifted his lips from where they played at the place where her neck met her shoulder and placed them at her ear, speaking, the words low and dark and full of wicked intent. “Tell me.”
He sucked the lobe of her ear and made everything worse. Or better. She wasn’t sure. It was difficult to form thought. “Tell you?”
“Would you like me to show you this bit?”
Yes. Yes yes yes.
She swallowed, knowing instinctively that if she said no, he would stop. But she did not wish to say no. She wished to say yes. Most definitely. Without question. If ever there were a time when she wanted something, it was now. He scraped his teeth over her skin, sending a shiver of delight through her. She gasped her answer, “Please.”
She could hear the grin in his reply. “So polite.”
She pulled away from him. “I’m grateful for the offer.”
He laughed then, the sound a promise of something wonderful and wicked. “It is I who should be grateful, my lady.” And then his lips were on hers once more, and she was lost, the darkness making everything more illicit and somehow more acceptable, as though no one would ever discover their actions. As though this place, this night, this journey was nothing more than a dream that would disappear with the light of day.
And it would. The Marquess of Eversley was not for girls like Sophie. Uninteresting, unbeautiful. But in the darkness, she could pretend otherwise. And this night would keep her in memories for an eternity.
“What bits, in particular, Sophie?” He was at her ear again, his fingers stroking at the edge of her bodice, where her breasts strained for release against the too-tight lacing. “What has you curious?”
Her cheeks should have been flaming at the question, but the darkness made her bold. “All of it,” she said.
He laughed at the words. “No,” he said, moving his hand away, teasing her. “That’s not enough. Tell me, specifically.”
“I don’t know,” she said, the words coming on a wave of frustration. “Touch me again.”
“Where?”
Everywhere.
“Sophie,” he beckoned, like the devil at the door to hell.
She fought for thought. “A few years ago, I saw . . .” She trailed off, shocked by what she was about to tell him.
He stilled against her. “Don’t stop there, darling. What did you see?”
“I stumbled upon a stable hand. And a maid.”
“Go on.”
She shook her head.
“Where were you?”
“Looking for a place to read.”
“Where?”
“It was raining, and cold. And my sisters were talking about balls and gowns and gossip . . . and the mews were warm and quiet.”
“What did you find there?” He kissed down her neck, long, lingering sucks that made it difficult to think.
“I was in the hayloft.”
“And the stable hand was there? With the maid?” There was something in his tone that she’d never heard in a man’s voice before. Something breathless. Like . . . excitement? The thought made her excited, as well. More excited. As though such a thing were possible.
“No,” she confessed. “They were in a stall.”
“And you looked?” His tongue swirled at the crest of her good shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to. I was only looking for a quiet place to read.”
“I do not judge you.” He licked—licked!—the skin between shoulder and dress, and she thought her breasts might break free of their bindings. “I simply want to imagine the full scenario. What did you see?”
“At first nothing,” she said. “I didn’t know they were there. If I had—”
“You never would have stayed. You’re too good a girl.”
“But once I heard them . . .”
He filled her silence. “Once you heard them, you couldn’t stop yourself.”