Marena let the corset drop to the floor, and as if she’d tugged on a string, he closed the space between them. He stood there, eyes hungry, chest moving fast. Waiting.
“I’ve been considering your offer.” She circled her arms around his neck.
“Have you?” he asked, voice low and seductive, the vibrations melting her core. She shivered at the strength in his hands, the way he dug them into her skin, one at her hip and the other with a tight grip on her bottom.
“You are correct. We have an evening and a day before our meeting with our respective siblings.”
Another grunt was accompanied by a brush of lips to her neck.
“So,” she whispered, letting her own lips travel from his neck, to his jaw, smelling the scent of his freshly shaved face. “I’m pondering on how to best use our time.”
“I have many suggestions,” he offered with enthusiasm as he undid the buttons of her chemise and exposed her breasts, eyes boring into her, and yes…this was what she needed. Heat pooled at her core as he brought his mouth level with her breast. His hot breath making her nipples harden, as the throbbing between her legs intensified. He touched her so lightly, lips brushing over her collarbone. His thumb grazing the valley between her breasts until she was panting. Still he would not put his mouth where she wanted him.
“Arlo, please.”
“Do you need something, love?” He ran the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, and she swore she could feel it on her own skin. He opened his mouth, making her gasp, desperate to have it on her. “May I?” he asked, the tip of his finger flicking the aching tip of her breast.
She responded by grabbing his head in both her hands and bringing his mouth exactly where she needed him.
This was a delightfully surprising outcome for his impulsive gift of undergarments. Marena had too much of a spine to recriminate him, or feign offense, but he had not expected this, an aroused, impassioned Marena offering him what he’d been aching for from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. And he’d known it would be like this. No demure double-entendres or half-heated insinuations. It would be a fevered, demanding whirlwind that would quite possibly ruin him forever.
“If I’d anticipated this would be the reaction,” he muttered, as he cupped her breast and ran the flat of his tongue over a hardened nipple. “I’d have had your bed filled with boxes from Gaillon this morning.”
She let out a sound somewhere between a scoff and a moan. “I would’ve thought giving you something to do with your mouth would prevent me from listening to nonsense, Your Grace.” She moaned lustily as he added teeth to his efforts. “This happened because I want you, and I’ve decided that between now and the moment we fulfill the reason for this adventure, I shall have you.”
He looked up from his work on her breasts, which were even more magnificent than he could’ve imagined, unsettled by her words. And he must really be a fool, because she was giving him something every man wanted: the chance to quench his lust without attachments. He should take this without hesitation, ask how he could please her, inquire about her most dark fantasies, and set about making them true in the next twenty-four hours. If there was a tightening in his chest at the idea of only getting her for a day, then that was something he’d have to deal with on the train to London. Tonight and tomorrow were for pleasure. “What changed your mind?”
“You made some very lofty claims after that kiss, Your Grace.” Something about her playful tone felt false, like she was keeping her true self hidden, and he wanted all of her here with him.
“Arlo,” he demanded. “Say my name.”
“Kiss me, Arlo.”
Something feral and primal burned in his gut. His head spun, drunk on his desire for this woman. She turned her face up to him and he brought their mouths together, his tongue stealing into her mouth with barely contained hunger. He had always prided himself on his restraint, but the onslaught of Marena Baine-Torres, lusty and wanton in his arms, had easily undone him.
Some men of his station liked to be the ones to own a woman’s innocence for the first time. Found pleasure in demure inexperience. But there was something about a woman who knew exactly what she wanted, a woman who understood herself enough to demand her pleasure, that had always excited him.
The way she moved against him. Hips rolling seductively as she kissed him without restraint. He wanted to know what it would be to have those same hips crashing against him as he surged into her. To have her lithe limbs wrapped around his waist as he took her. The idea set his blood on fire. His hands went back to undo the last buttons on her chemise, while still kissing and tasting her mouth. She smelled like the citronelle and lavender from the morning. He wanted to inhale her, press his nose to the secret places that held her scent. Lick into her until he knew every inch of her body.
“I want to taste you everywhere,” he said as he fumbled with her chemise.
“Bloody hell, these buttons are more effective than a chastity belt.” He growled, ready to tear the thing off her. For all his experience, he felt like a fumbling arse, he was that eager for her.
She laughed, bringing her hands to meet his, and efficiently undid the rest of the buttons, exposing her enough to give him a peek of the nest on brown curls which hid the place he most wanted to taste. “You were supposed to be helping me get in my gown, not out of my undergarments,” she teased as he reached for her.
“How could I? With these two beauties calling me. All I want is to lay you on that bed and play with them for hours,” he said before he swirled his tongue around a pebbled peak, making her gasp.
“More,” she demanded, and in that moment, he would have given her anything. He took one breast in his mouth, his hand playing with the other as she writhed against him. Breathy moans of pleasure escaped her lips, tearing at the very fabric of his sanity.
“I don’t think there is anything in the world that could keep me from tasting you,” he said heatedly as he pressed openmouthed kisses on every inch of skin he could reach.
Soon he was moving down her body—dinner trousers be damned. He needed to get at the core of her. He traced a path with his lips, kissing the underside of each breast and every inch of her until he arrived at seam of her cunt. Once he was on his knees, he looked up at her, and his breath caught at the sight. That mass of wild curls almost to her waist. Her deep brown skin tinged with red from the heat of the moment. Her mouth was open and a little swollen from his kisses. Her eyes wild and her body wanton. He’d never seen anything more perfect.
“You are vision.” He whispered against her skin, unable to hide the emotion in his voice.
Some things were undeniable. Some people were inevitable, and Arlo had learned long ago that shrewd men didn’t resist change, but embraced it. He could see himself rearranging his whole existence to have more of her. From the moment in that shop when she’d turned those heated brown eyes on him he’d been adrift, every new moment with her displacing the ideas he had about himself. He’d told himself a million times that he’d never attach himself to anyone. Would not open himself to more liaisons that further tied him to his duties in the nobility. He certainly never planned to take a wife. But with Marena every touch, every kiss revealed a different truth. One night would never be enough.