He finished pulling her hair down, letting the pins fall to the floor. Stroking his hands through her locks, he kissed her again and again, their lips parting and meeting between sighs and darker sounds of need.
She pulled his cravat away and hurriedly unbuttoned his waistcoat. Grasping the hem of his shirt, she pushed it up, exposing the hard plane of his abdomen and chest. He tossed the garment to the floor as she put her mouth on him, her lips and tongue moving over his nipples and up to the hollow of his throat.
He clasped her head, moaning as she stroked her hand over the ridge of his cock straining against his breeches. He abruptly turned her and furiously unlaced her gown, pushing it down over her hips as soon as it was loose enough. Her petticoat followed, then he attacked the laces of her corset. That garment joined the others at her feet, leaving her clad in just her chemise and stockings.
His hands moved over hips, pulling her back against him so that she felt his erection against the top of her backside and the small of her back. He skimmed his palms up her front and cupped her breasts through the chemise.
“No talking?” he whispered against her ear before kissing along her neck.
Sensation and need throttled her. “I can’t,” she managed between gasps.
“Then let me. What do you want, Selina? My hands here?” He tugged on her nipples. It wasn’t enough. She pulled the chemise up, and he helped take it over her head before throwing it away.
He put his hands on her again, cupping and squeezing, then pinching. “Better?”
She cast her head back into the crook of his shoulder, closing her eyes. One of his hands moved down over her belly, then pressed over her mound. Arching into his palm, she moaned softly, her legs parting.
He slipped a finger into her folds. “Better still? Do you want to come like this?” He speared into her, filling her so she cried out. She pumped her hips forward, desperate for more.
But no, she didn’t want to come like this. He’d told her she could be on top of him. She wanted that.
Turning, she kissed him, using her teeth to tug on his lower lip before she spoke. “On the bed. Show me how to be in control.”
He smiled against her mouth. “Everything about this will be yours to manage.”
He stripped away the rest of his clothing, then climbed onto the bed. Sprawling atop the coverlet, he looked up at her. “Straddle me.”
She looked at the nest of dark reddish-brown curls between his legs from which his cock stood, thick and rigid. Reaching for him, she knew she’d find moisture at the tip. She leaned over the bed and touched him. Without thinking, she put her mouth over him, tasting his salt.
His hand twined in her hair. “God, Selina.” He guided her to move. “Like that. Use your tongue.”
She curled her tongue around him as she glided her mouth down then back up.
“And your hand.” He sounded as if he couldn’t breathe.
He curled his hand around hers, showing her where to clasp him at the base. “Go as fast—or slow—as you like. But I do prefer fast. At least right now.” The last word came out on a guttural groan because she’d started to move more quickly, sliding her mouth up and down, taking him deeper each time.
He clasped her shoulders and pulled her up. “Stop. Please. Or I’m going to come straight down your gorgeous throat.”
His words enflamed her. She looked up at him, saw the anguished need in his gaze and in the lines of his face and felt a power she’d never imagined. It wasn’t a power over him, but over herself and her choices. She wanted this. She wanted him.
“Straddle me,” he repeated.
This time, she followed his command, climbing onto the bed and throwing a leg over his thighs. She splayed one hand on his chest and curled the other around his cock. His hand met hers there as he moved her over him and guided himself to her sex.
His gaze was locked on where they would join. “Lower yourself. Gently.” He swept his tip against her folds, then began to pierce her as she moved her hips down.
“God, this is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. You are so beautiful.”
She’d said no talking, but his words were as arousing as his body and his touch. He clasped her hips as he filled her completely. Just the position of him inside her nearly made her climax.
“Move, Selina.”
Putting her hands on his chest, she braced herself as she began to move over him, rising and falling, slowly at first. Then she remembered what he said about liking fast. Plus, the friction she was creating wasn’t enough. She needed more. Her body demanded more.
He cupped her breasts, drawing on her nipples and crafting an intense pleasure. She began to pitch forward, her hips and legs pumping over him as she chased her release. He put his mouth on her breast, and she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut.
Then she felt his touch on her clitoris, and she broke apart. Spasms racked her body as her muscles clenched around him. She was having a hard time maintaining her rhythm. “I can’t,” she repeated, but for an entirely different reason.
Suddenly, Harry flipped her, his body barely leaving her as he pressed her back into the bed. and he drove into her once more. He picked up where she’d left off, thrusting between her quivering legs as she wrapped her body around his. Wave after wave of pleasure swept over her. She reached the peak and fell, her desperation quieting. Then he was gone from her, to spill his seed where it couldn’t take root.
After a few moments, he came back to her, settling between her legs once more as he gathered her in his arms. “My apologies for taking over.”
“It was fine,” she murmured. “No, it was brilliant.” It was just what she needed. He was just what she needed.
He kissed her temple, her cheek, her lips. Selina held him close, hating that she ever had to let him go. She’d never wanted anything the way she wanted him.
The day would come, however—and soon—when she would have to say goodbye. Her heart was breaking at the thought.
Chapter 17
Knowing Madame Sybila would not be seeing clients since it was Thursday, Harry stole into the back of The Ardent Rose. He crept along the corridor leading to the fortune-teller’s small closet, listening for anyone who might approach. He heard murmured conversation from the perfume shop just before he quickly opened the door and ducked inside, intent on investigating her tonics—and whatever else he could find.
His breath stalled as he stared at the empty room. Not entirely empty, because the table, chairs, and dresser were still there, but everything else was gone. There was no tablecloth, no incense, no cards.
Maybe she put those things away before she left each day. Harry went to the dresser and began opening the drawers. Most were empty, and the one that wasn’t contained just empty perfume bottles.
Swearing under his breath, Harry looked around the room, his mind spinning. His eye caught the faint outline of a door in the back corner. How had he not noticed that before? He thought back and realized there’d been a drape hanging in that corner, likely to hide the door.
Harry went and opened it, revealing a narrow—empty—closet. What had she kept in here? He stuck his head inside and caught a faint scent that was all too familiar: orange and honeysuckle. That bloody woman had worn Selina’s scent.