His smile was sad. “Well, that is rather discouraging—for you and for me.”
Oh dear. He’d hoped for…something, apparently. She reached over and put her hand on his.
“Why did you come here tonight?” he asked.
A tremor ran through her. She straightened, pushing her uncertainty aside. If she was honest with herself, she knew what she wanted. “Because since we kissed yesterday, I’ve thought of little else.” She shook her head. “No, it was before that. Watching you perform Shakespeare, I was moved by the depth of your emotion. There is something about you I find compelling. All this morning as I walked to the river with Sterling, I observed you with Mrs. Makepeace and then Lady Bradford. I contemplated how I might push them aside and take their place. Tonight at dinner, I was frustrated that we still weren’t seated beside each other. Then in the dancing competition, I was even more annoyed that we weren’t ever paired together. So here I am.”
His eyes sparked with heat and mirth. “Duchess, I am astonished. And flattered. Most of all, I am encouraged. Here we are, two people who are attracted to—and compelled by, for I feel the same about you—one another. Alone. In a bedchamber. What shall we do about it?” He looked at her in such a provoking fashion—his gaze devouring her as it moved from her face down over her body.
Emboldened, she took his glass and stood, putting it and hers on the mantel. Then she turned to face him and unbuttoned her dressing gown. Surprisingly, her fingers didn’t so much as quiver.
Genie removed the garment and draped it over the back of the settee. Then she put her knee on the settee and leaned over him. “Shall I stay?”
His eyes darkened to near pitch. “Yes, please.” The words were thick and heavy, resonating in the pit of Genie’s belly.
Bracing her hand on the back of the settee, she lowered her head and kissed him, her mouth brushing gently over his. They played a moment, their lips and tongues seeking and teasing, touching and withdrawing.
He brought his hand up and cupped her nape. Pulling her head to his, he brought their lips together and sank his tongue into her mouth, devouring her as he had with his gaze. Sensation pulsed through her. It had been so long since she’d felt this.
His fingers dug into her hair, the bulk of which hung in a braid down her back. She pressed down against him, her breasts crushing against his chest. He dragged his thumb along the edge of her ear as he kissed her, long, deep strokes of his tongue against hers. She put her other hand on his shoulder, clutching him as waves of want crested within her.
The heat of his body seeped through the lawn of his shirt. She moved her hand up and slid it beneath the fabric. The feel of his flesh against hers was beyond enticing. She wanted more, needed more.
He clasped her waist and pushed her back against the other end of the settee, somewhat reversing their positions. Rising over her, he stared down at her with naked lust.
“Genie, I have never wanted another woman as much as I want you. Does that frighten you? It frightens me.”
She wasn’t scared. Not of him. Not of this. She shook her head and lifted her hand. “Come to me, Edmund.”
He reached for the hem of her night rail and pulled it up to her waist. She lifted her hips, and together they rid her of the garment. When she lay before him nude, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was enough. She was no longer young.
He let out a sharp hiss. “You are so beautiful. Perfect, in fact.”
She let out a shaky laugh. “That can hardly be true.”
Riveted on her, he cupped her breast. “It is true. You are perfect to me in every way.” He ran his thumb over her nipple, sending a burst of sensation to her sex.
She cast her head back and closed her eyes, giving herself over to his touch. “Yes.” She’d never shied from asking for what she wanted or instigating what she desired.
He repeated the action with her other breast—cupping, then tweaking her nipple softly.
She moaned softly. “More.”
He pinched her then. She jerked, her body lifting from the settee, and she cried out. His mouth closed around her, and he teased her with lips and tongue before sucking hard. Genie put her hands on his head and held him to her. He cupped her other breast, driving her to a fit of need that pooled between her legs. Her hips moved, of their own volition really, eager for his touch.
He seemed to understand what she wanted for his hand moved down her rib cage and abdomen, his fingers stroking her flesh as he descended to the apex of her thighs. He touched her sex, his hand pressing gently against her mound before his finger glided along her folds. He drew hard on her nipple as he slipped his finger into her. Genie rose up, meeting his thrust and gasping. He lifted his head and kissed her again, taking her whimpers into his mouth as he pumped his finger into her.
She moved, her hips rising with each stroke. Then his mouth was gone from hers. He kissed along her jaw and throat, licking and nipping his way down to her breasts once more, then lower still.
No, he couldn’t mean to… Yes, he meant to. He licked her clitoris, then sucked, sending a sharp spear of pleasure straight through her core. She held his head and tried to keep herself from completely falling apart. Not yet.
But he was relentless in his efforts. His mouth and fingers worked in and out of her, rousing her to heights of desire she wasn’t sure she recalled. She cried out as sensation overwhelmed her. He licked into her, thrust his tongue deep into her sex, and she tumbled into the dark intensity of her orgasm. Her body shuddered as her muscles clenched. She cried out again and again, unable to find herself as she fell through time and space.
He didn’t stop until she emerged from the darkness. Then he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. She managed to recover enough to scramble to her knees on the bed. She reached for him, pulling his shirt from his breeches. He lifted his arms so she could pull it over his head.
Now he was exposed to her, she could see he was every bit as muscular as others had said during the party. Dark hair covered the center of his chest and around his nipples. He was the most masculine thing she’d ever seen—or felt. She ran her hands over him, reveling in his hardness and heat. Skimming her palms up his chest, she cupped his neck and pulled his head down so she could kiss him.
She tasted herself on his tongue, which only fueled her desire. How long was this night? Not long enough, she reckoned. Not for all the ways she wanted to explore him and have him study her.
He began to unbutton his fall, but she lowered her hands to finish the task, pushing his aside. When the breeches were loose, she pushed them down his hips. He assisted then—and she allowed it—which meant she could touch him. She wrapped her hand around his shaft. Velvety soft and rock hard, she stroked him from balls to tip. The urge to put her mouth around him was strong, but she was too eager to feel him inside her.
She whispered next to his ear, “Shall I lie back? Or shall you? Or shall I get on my knees?”
He groaned in response. “You are beyond imagination. Yes, yes, and yes. I want to sink myself inside you until I don’t know where I end and you begin. By morning, I won’t remember what it feels like to be without you, nor do I want to.”
His words enflamed her. She worked her hand around him, pulling another groan from his throat.
“Genie, look at me.” He cupped the back of her head. “What do you want?”