“Would you like it?”
“I would,” she answered, the words more breath than sound.
“What would you like?” Now he was teasing her. He knew she couldn’t think, but the proof of it was making him feel more a man than he ever had before.
“I would like you to…” She hesitated.
He ran his teeth along the column of her neck, nipping at the soft skin of her shoulder. “To —?”
She sighed. “All of it. I would like it all.”
He couldn’t see the color of her eyes in the darkness, but he recognized their intensity. One of her hands came to his neck, fingers curving and sliding into his hair. She did not release his gaze, and for a long, breathless moment, he wondered if, perhaps, she would be in control after all. “Do it,” she whispered, those gorgeous pink lips licking around the words. “Please.”
“Do what?” They were close now, nearly kissing. He’d never wanted anything the way he wanted this woman.
“Do it all.” Her fingers slid further, pulling him down to her. “Show me everything.”
She leaned up. Or perhaps he leaned down. It did not matter, except for the fact that they were kissing, and she was in his arms, and he wanted nothing more than to explore every inch of her glorious, perfect body. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and he was lifting her, turning her, pressing her against the side of the house, giving her everything for which she asked.
She sighed into his mouth and he caught the beautiful sound, pulling her against him. Her lips, soft and sweet and warm, parted in perfection, and he could not stop himself from claiming her with tongue and teeth, nipping along her full bottom lip before chasing the bite with a long, slow lick that made her groan with anticipation. Or perhaps it was he who groaned.
She had him on fire. He gathered her closer and deepened the kiss, changing the pressure. He delved deeper, stroked more firmly.
And she met him at every single stroke, finally using her own teeth to tease and tempt and punish, and he groaned, grasping one long thigh in his hand and lifting it, spreading her open and pressing into the soft core where he so desperately wanted to be. He rocked against her, giving both of them a small, unbearable taste of what they might have if it were a different night.
Of what they would have when it was a different night.
The thought tore him away from her, and he ached at the way she clung to him, as though she’d forgotten for a moment who she was and where they were and why they couldn’t have each other… this… now.
He was the same way, leaning back in, taking her lips once more, firmly, thoroughly, without hesitation.
He released her thigh and her lips at the same time, pressing his forehead to hers as they both caught their breath. When he finally spoke, it was in a whisper only for her. “I will show you everything. But not tonight. You’ve had too much to drink for me to give you all I intend for you to take.”
Her retort was instant. “I haven’t had too much to drink.”
She wanted him. He could feel it in the pulse beneath his fingertips, in the breath against his neck, in the fingers that clung to his coat. “Yes, you have.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He turned her so that she could see his face, handsome and serious. “It matters a great deal. You see, I intend for every bit of ecstasy, everything you’ve never felt before, everything you will ache to have again.” He took a step toward her, his words wrapping around them both like sin. “I intend for it all to be because of me.”
She opened her mouth to argue.
He stopped her before she could speak. “Me alone. Without question, Georgiana.”
She closed her eyes at the name, capturing his hand with hers, tightly, as though she needed to steady herself. “You don’t want Georgiana. You want Anna. She’s the one who knows about passion.”
“I know exactly who I want,” he said, leaning forward, dipping his head to the place where her neck met her shoulder, where she smelled of vanilla and Georgiana. The scent was intoxicating and dangerous. And hers alone. He continued, letting his tongue lick along the spot. “I want Georgiana.”
She turned to him and kissed him, as though the words were unexpected and desperately desired. He caught her against him and gave her a full, sweeping kiss before a thought whispered through him, and he pulled back, meeting her gaze.
“Caroline’s father…”
She looked away, suddenly, remarkably looking like the girl she’d once been. “It’s rather an inopportune time to discuss him, don’t you think?”
“I don’t, actually,” he said. “Now is the perfect time to tell you that he was a fool.”
“Why?” she asked.
It wasn’t a search for a compliment. There was no artifice in the question. So there was no artifice in his answer. “Because if I had a chance to have you in my bed every night, I would take it. Without question.”
He regretted the words almost immediately – the meaning in them. The power they gave her over him. But then she leaned into him, as though the words had pulled her to him. He caught her, the feel of her too welcome to resist.
When she spoke, she was all seductress. “You have a chance for it tonight, and you are not taking it.”
The words had the desired effect, desire pooling deep in him. “That is because I am a gentleman.”
Her lips made a perfect moue. “A pity. I was promised a scoundrel.”