with a private twinkle, “Lord Jeremy will escort me to the castle.”
As the door shut behind Mr. Horn, they leaned forward at the same moment, as if choreographed. Jeremy groaned as Betsy’s tongue met his. She tasted like sweet beer and Bess, a potent combination that made his head swim.
He stood up so fast that his stool fell over. Betsy laughed as he placed their glasses to the side.
“I want you.” His voice was raw and deep. He rounded the table and crouched before her, taking in the way her breasts swelled above her bodice, the flush in her cheeks, the bright gleam in her eyes. Her collarbones were as exquisite as the rest of her, edging her breasts like the delicate framework of a cathedral window. “You’re so damned beautiful,” he breathed.
Her eyes searched his face. “As are you.”
Raw lust bit at him, and he grabbed her fur cape, throwing it down on the table. “A bed fit for a lady.”
She began giggling, a sound like pure joy turned to song. “We can’t do that here.”
“Ah, but we can.” He picked her up with a kiss, and put her down on the fur, shifting his hands just in time to trap her panniers before they flipped into the air.
“Most men can’t manage that,” she said, grinning at him.
“I’ve been watching you maneuver into chairs for months now,” he admitted. He pulled up her skirts, but found another under it, and another under that. “How many layers are you wearing?”
Her eyes had darkened from sky blue to something more tempestuous. “At least bar the door,” she said.
He pulled up the last layer, a thin chemise, and then turned to cross the room and slam the bar in place. He returned to find her propped on her elbows, her legs dangling over the side of the table, emerging from a froth of pale blue and snowy white petticoats. She wore pale blue stockings, and above the ribbons that held them up, her thighs were plump and creamy.
“Come,” she said, holding out a hand.
He was there in a rush, crouching and pushing her legs apart.
She gave a little scream and tried to sit up. “Angelic behavior,” he reminded her. Simple hunger roughened his voice. “You taste wonderful.”
“You’re looking at me in the daylight,” Betsy exclaimed, “and we aren’t even in a bed.”
“You are exquisite.” He leaned forward to lick the delicate, fluted petals between her legs. His hands were clasped on her knees so he knew when she began trembling, with small, surprised cries.
He licked with patient intensity, building her pleasure until she was begging. Each word soaked into his soul. He was learning his lady’s ways, what made her cry out, writhe, draw up one knee in ecstasy. He knew it to be one of the most important lessons of his lifetime.
All the time, desire mounted ferocious demands in his own body, until he was shaking as much as she was. When he finally let go of one of her knees and pushed two thick fingers inside, she exploded with a scream.
He stayed with her through it, lapping her gently, turning his head to kiss the inside of her knee and, when she quieted but for small gasps, her upper thigh. Then he straightened and drew her forward, just enough to meet his cock.
He paused long enough to catch a smile from languorous eyes before he leaned over to kiss her, taking her mouth at the moment he took her body. Her arms wound around him, clinging to him, holding him to this world. Their hearts beat the same frantic rhythm as he sank into her.
“Does it hurt?” he whispered into her mouth, ready to withdraw.
Her eyes opened and he saw sharp joy there along with hunger. “No,” she whispered back. She wriggled and he bit out a groan at the sensation. “It feels uncomfortable but at the same time . . . won’t you please move, Jeremy? The way you did last night?”
His mind went blank and he couldn’t think of the proper response: “My pleasure” would be absurd.
But it was his pleasure: not just the act of it, but the way her soft mouth clung to his, and the way her hands wandered, bolder than they had been the night before. She managed to free his shirt and ran her hands over his nipples, jolting his senses.
He loved every joyful syllable of her laughter, and he loved it when she fell silent but for small sounds that transformed to