“Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Chapter 12
Rafe kissed her with a blistering heat as his fingers continued to unbutton her spencer. He moved quickly, with wondrous precision, divesting her of the garment with ease. His tongue lashed against hers, claiming her in a torrent of sensation. It was as if something had been unleashed inside him, that he’d let himself free of whatever bound him.
She wasn’t going to be the only one undressed this time. Tugging at his cravat, she pulled the silk loose and tore it from his neck. He drew back slightly, not quite breaking the kiss, as he removed his coat. His lips played with hers and he nipped her flesh before looking down at the laces crossing over her chest. “This isn’t a typical garment.”
Her underdress had been constructed as a sort of full petticoat and wasn’t meant to be worn without the spencer over it. The laces in the bodice kept the garment snug and allowed her to don it without assistance. “It comes loose quite easily.” She untied the front, and it fell open, revealing her corset. He pushed the straps of the garment over her shoulders and down her arms. She slipped out of the dress and gave it over to him.
He carefully took the dress and the spencer he’d cast on the bed and draped them over a chair. Perching on the edge, he pulled his boots off and set them aside. “Come here,” he said, his eyes glittering with promise.
She went to the chair and stood between his parted legs.
“Your foot, please.” He reached down, and she placed her foot in his hand. Scooting back on the chair, he lifted her foot and placed it between his legs on the seat cushion. Her toes grazed him as he unfastened her half boot. When he’d removed the boot, he moved to perform the same task on her other foot, exchanging one for the other.
Except when he finished with that one, he didn’t let her go. Instead, he curled his hand around her ankle and pulled her foot around his thigh and set it on the cushion behind him. Though she still wore her corset, petticoat, chemise, and stockings, she felt incredibly, thrillingly exposed in this position.
His hand moved up her leg, pausing behind her bent knee. Shivers of anticipation danced along her flesh, and desire pooled in her sex. With his other hand, he pushed the skirt of her petticoat up, revealing the leg propped on the chair.
“Come closer,” he whispered, wrapping his palm around her thigh and sliding it up to her backside. He grasped the side of her clothing that fell against her standing leg. “Hold this side up at your waist.”
Unable to take a deep breath, she did as he said, clutching the fabric at her waist. This completely opened her sex to him.
He trailed his hand down her backside, his fingertips gliding along the crease between her cheeks. She inhaled sharply before he moved back up the side of her thigh and brought his hand around to her front. “Beautiful.”
He stroked along the edge of her folds, his thumb finding her clitoris. His other hand clasped the hip of her standing leg, urging her closer to him so that she could feel his breath against her.
She moaned softly as he gently massaged her flesh. He swept his finger inside her.
“So wet and ready. I could take you right now. But I want you wetter still.” He pumped into her, finding a spot that made her see white as she clenched her eyes closed. “Hold on to me, Anne. But don’t let go of your skirt.”
She switched the garment to her other hand and used her right to brace herself on his shoulder. His left hand slid from her thigh to her backside as he licked her sex. She was not prepared for the sensations that swept through her or the sudden quiver that overtook her legs. Now she understood why he’d told her to hold on to him.
His cheek brushed her thigh as he kissed and suckled her flesh. The intimacy of it, how very exposed she was, shocked her. But she didn’t retreat. If anything, she dug her fingers into his shoulder and arched into him. Perhaps he knew what she wanted. Of course he knew. He thrust his tongue inside her, and she cried out.
His hand moved to cup the back of her thigh, holding her elevated leg in a firm grip as his mouth moved over her, licking and teasing her flesh. Bringing his other hand back over her hip, he slid his finger into her as he sucked at her clitoris. Ecstasy rolled over her, and she felt the rush of an orgasm fast approaching.
Before it came, he gentled his touch, retreating just enough that the pleasure remained but didn’t overwhelm her. She wanted the tide to sweep her away and whimpered.
He parted her sex, holding her open for his tongue as he thrust in and out. Her muscles tensed as she babbled incoherently, begging for release.
Still, he didn’t let her come. He abruptly stood, gathering her into his arms and taking her to the bed. He set her on the coverlet with a roughness that matched the tumult raging inside her.
Shoving her skirts up, he spread her legs and buried himself between them. He clasped her thighs and set them on his shoulders as his mouth plundered her sex. The pleasure built until she perched on the edge. He stroked her clitoris, and she tumbled into sweet, dark oblivion.
She clutched his head, pulling at his hair as she bounced back up, cresting higher than before, spasms racking her body. There was no time to find the earth before he was gone from her.
Opening her eyes, she saw him unbuttoning his waistcoat. She pushed herself up, eager to see him. But when she reached for him, he wrapped his hand around her nape and pulled her mouth to his. “I told you what I would do.” He kissed her, as he said he would, and she tasted herself.
He’d been right. There was no going back after this. She didn’t want anyone to see or feel or taste her the way he had. And she didn’t want anyone doing the same for him.
She unfastened the two remaining buttons on his waistcoat and pushed the garment open. He dragged his mouth from hers to discard the clothing. She clutched at his shirt, tugging it from his waistband, and narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re mine.”
His left brow arched, and his expression was so handsome, so seductive, she nearly whimpered with need again.
“Mine,” she repeated, pushing at his shirt.
He ripped the garment over his head and dropped it to the floor.
Anne surveyed the muscled expanse of his chest and abdomen. From the contoured planes of his shoulders to the soft discs of his nipples and lower to the ridges of his ribs and the muscles that rippled down to his waistband. There were scars, like the one on his face, small, pink clues to the life he’d led before. She longed to ask him about them, and she would, but not now. Now, she wanted to see all of him.
She glanced at his breeches. “Are you going to take those off, or should I?”
“Which would you prefer?”
In answer, she unbuttoned his fall. She moved slowly, hopefully teasing him as he’d teased her. No, to do that, she needed to affect him physically. She scooted toward him and kissed the hollow of his throat. A vibration started beneath her mouth and came from him as a soft moan. Encouraged, she licked down and over to his nipple, where she used her lips and tongue the way he’d done with her.
He sucked in a breath and twined his hand in her hair. Surprised it had remained up this long, she felt it give away and tumble around her shoulders.
She kissed her way down to where his breeches gaped open. Slipping her hand into the garment, she found the hard shaft of his sex and marveled at how soft his flesh felt. She tried to push the fabric down over his hips. Thankfully, he added his assistance, freeing his cock completely.