A slight laugh huffed out of him. “Where did you hear such language?”
“I’ve read things. And heard things.” Her lashes swept down before she once again boldly met his eyes. “But I’ve never actually experienced such things, and I want to. With you.”
“You should only be experiencing such things with your husband.” Even as he said the words, he rocked his cock against her, cursing the fabric between them. He wanted her naked and laid out on the table for him to devour and fuck.
“Do husbands not experience such things before marriage?”
“That’s different.”
“Because I’m a woman and you’re a man?”
“Because you are a lady, and I am not a gentleman. Society might look askance at a lord’s bad behavior, but you would be ruined, Victoria. You would be ostracized and hurt. I couldn’t bear that.”
“I’m already ruined in the eyes of society by being alone with you all night. You can’t say you don’t want me. Your gaze on me this morning at the modiste said differently, as does your body right now.”
Even as his body clamored for satisfaction, he leaned closer and placed his forehead against hers. “You know I want you, Victoria. I have always wanted you.”
He more than wanted her. He loved her and had loved her since the day Sir Hawkins had brought him home and she’d greeted him like she’d been waiting for him all her life.
A half sob escaped her throat. She grabbed his nape and kissed him. A kiss of fire and pent-up need. His reaction equaled her intensity but was tempered by the knowledge there was a world outside the cottage that would judge her harshly for giving in to her passions. But could he give her a taste? He could satisfy her even if he was left bereft.
“Love, would you let me…?” He kissed her and ran his hand from her knee up her thigh, tugging the hem of her chemise higher.
Her skin was soft and supple under his callused palm. When his fingertips grazed the soft hair of her mons, she tensed, and he stilled his advance. He broke their kiss and skimmed his lips over her jaw to tug her earlobe between his teeth. She moaned and let her legs relax, welcoming him.
“I can satisfy you without taking your maidenhead.” He ran a finger over the silk of her folds. She was wet. So wet, the temptation to unbutton his breeches and release his cock nearly ground his best intentions to dust. She was ready and willing to be filled by him.
She propped her hands behind her and leaned on them. Her chemise rode high on her thighs, giving him a tantalizing glimpse between them. Her chemise drooped under a breast, framing the perfection. Her nipple was dark pink, delicate, and ruched, and it begged for his mouth. She was a picture of wanton desire.
“Thomas.” Her husky whisper brought his gaze to hers. “Please.”
Chapter 6
Victoria wasn’t quite sure what she was begging for. Yes, she had read a multitude of inappropriate texts on the subject of male-female relations. Even the anonymous diary of a courtesan that had scandalized society when it was printed in the midst of the season. She didn’t consider herself a complete innocent. Yet the need coursing through her made her feel callow and overwhelmed and desperate.
She couldn’t even blame the buzzing warmth of the brandy. The food and conversation had blunted any mind muddling it had incited earlier. She was in full control of her faculties. His gaze on her body was heated and intense, his expression taut, emphasizing the harsh planes of his face. What did he see?
She glanced down. Her breath caught, hardly recognizing herself. Her legs were spread, and his hand was between them, his fingers stroking her to the edge of insanity. Her breast was uncovered, her nipple pebbled. She had never been so exposed to another, physically or emotionally.
She drew her hands into fists on the table, fighting the urge to cover herself. Thomas would take care of her. He had always taken care of her. His fingers were thick and agile, his confident touch different from her own shy explorations.
“How will you satisfy me?” The question came from a place of uncertainty on her part, but a sly smile tipped his lips as if he thought her teasing him.
“How would you like me to satisfy you? With my fingers or my mouth?”
She gasped. The courtesan had made mention of a lover giving her a kiss between her legs, but Victoria had assumed it was an uncommon practice. “I didn’t know gentlemen gave ladies such treatment.”
Thomas’s eyebrows rose. “As I’ve warned you before, I’m no gentleman.”
“Perhaps not by birth, but you are a gentleman in every way that counts.”
“Our current position would indicate otherwise.” He dipped his head and captured her nipple between his lips in a move reminiscent of his nickname, Hawk.
She surrendered. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she let her head fall back. Pleasure spiraled from where his tongue flicked her nipple and collided with the sensations his fingers were evoking between her legs. Never had she felt anything so exquisite. Or overwhelming. Her arms trembled and began to fold, but he swept his arm around her back for support.
He worked alchemy between her legs. He rubbed the most sensitive spot while one of his fingers played at her entrance. It was the best possible torture. If he asked, she would confess all her secrets.
Like how much she loved him, had always loved him, and would always love him.
Instead, he pushed his finger inside her the same time he lightly bit her nipple. Any complex thought was stamped out by a single chant. More. She needed more. Wiggling her hips, she attempted to get closer, but he tightened his arm and kept her from driving farther onto his finger.
“Give me more.” Her voice was breathless and hoarse, as if she’d spent the evening begging him for mercy.
The noise he made was pained. “I want to, but I can’t.”
With shallow movements, he pumped his finger in and out of her in a rhythm that she recognized even though it was her first time. She grasped his shoulders, the solidness of him reassuring her. If she fell, he would catch her. Of that she had no doubt. Her legs quivered. He transferred his mouth from her breasts to her lips and kissed her.
She inched closer to the fog-shrouded precipice and the mystery beyond, finally succumbing. Pleasure dizzied her, and she buried her face in his neck. Her body clamped his finger and wished for more. She drifted back to earth like a falling leaf. Exhaustion swamped her in the aftermath.
Thomas fixed the bodice of her chemise, tying the delicate ribbon, and stepped from between her legs to sweep her into his arms. He carried her to the bed and tucked her under the thick quilt.
She could barely keep her eyes open. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“For what?”
“For not returning the favor.” She grazed a finger down the length of his cock, hard and pressing against the front of his breeches.
He jerked his hips out of reach. “Ah. I didn’t expect you to, love.”
“It’s only fair.” Her eyes were leaden, and it would take a herculean effort to open them. Just as she was drifting to sleep, her mind poked her back awake with a detail that felt important. “You called me ‘love.’ Twice.”
“Rest. We don’t know what tomorrow might bring.”