Page 55 of Persuasions of an Earl's Daughter

Lilly opened her eyes when he broke the kiss and set to work running the cloth all over her body. He concentrated on her limbs first, her feet, her hands, leaving her itching for him to touch her in more intimate places. She swore he was enjoying torturing her and leaving her clutching at the sheets as he swirled the cloth over her pale skin, avoiding the places where she so desperately needed to be touched.

Finally, he swept over her breasts, making her gasp at the cold against her nipples. He followed his administrations by taking one nipple into his mouth and the shock of the warmth nearly made her jolt from the bed.

“You taste delicious,” he told her as he raised his head briefly.

Using his tongue, he swirled it around her nipple, between her breasts and then returned to probe her mouth. She kissed him back eagerly but matched his leisurely pace, determined to savor the flavor of him.

“Oh Lord, touch me,” she begged as the cloth skimmed her hips and down.

She reached for August in a bid to tempt him to end her agony and managed to slip a hand between them to cup his arousal. He was hot and heavy and made her ache for him.

He hissed and drew back. She went to touch him again, but he grabbed her hand. “Lil, you addle my wits when you touch me, and I’ve been thinking about this—about you—for too long now. I want this to last.”

He took his time cleaning over her belly and her breasts, and she sighed as he moved the cloth over her aching nipples, kissing her intermittently and leaving her breathless. His gaze dropped to her breasts, her thighs, and the core of her, his usually bright gaze dark.

Warm, labored breaths whispered over her lips, and she’d never felt so desirable in her life. If ever. And while she’d never wanted such a thing before, she wanted it now. She wanted August to find her beautiful and devastating and everything he ever needed.

Once August dropped the cloth back into the bowl, he buried his head in the crook of her neck, and shifted over her, bringing warmth and relief.

“I could do that all day,” he confessed. “Just a whole day of exploring your body.”

“Do not,” she pleaded and hooked both legs around him and rocked up so her delicate flesh rubbed against the unforgiving hardness in his trousers. Lilly throbbed with need and gripped his arms tight.

Kissing his way along her jaw, he found her mouth again and she kissed him with an open mouth, tangling her tongue with his. The pace increased as did their boldness as they discovered a perfect rhythm that made her head swirl behind closed eyes.

Rough fingers stroked her neck, her shoulder and then down her arm. He clasped her hip and skimmed down to caress her thigh. She clutched the fabric of his shirt as her breathing grew ragged. Any chill she felt vanished. Her skin was hot and clammy, and she needed him so badly, she couldn’t fathom how she’d resisted this long. She continued to roll her hips in a bid to draw as much pleasure from him as possible, but she knew it would never be enough.

“August, I need you. Inside me. Please.”

∞∞∞

Only Lilly could make his heart beat faster than a prime racing horse. All those years of risking his life in order to feel something other than the shame his father had burdened him with, and he’d never felt like this. All he’d needed was her it seemed.

“Wait there.” He rose from the bed and set to work on his clothes. She wriggled against the sheets, the twin points of her breasts and the shadows between her thighs making him want to clench his jaw so tight he feared he’d crack a tooth.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

No. She wasn’t. This courageous woman had taken everything he’d confessed as though he was uttering nothing more than an invitation to take tea. If anyone could handle the truth of August’s upbringing and true heritage, it was Lilly Musgrave.

Her eyes gleamed as he yanked his shirt over his head and her gaze landed upon the tattoo that crossed one half of his chest.

“I’ve never seen a tattoo before.”

He glanced down at the ink. The crude outline of a heart made him cringe these days.

“Unless you’re a shirtless sailor or criminal, I’m not surprised.”

She rose from the bed and folded a palm over it. “It’s different.” She looked up at him. “Like you, August.”

“And like you.”

She nodded. “All of my family are different, but even compared to them I feel different.”

“Different, perfect.” He cupped her cheek. “It’s all the same to me.”

Reaching past him, she retrieved the cloth and wrung it out. He pressed a breath through his teeth as she moved the cold fabric across his skin, taking her time just as he did with her. It was torturous yet gave him the time to admire the leanness of her, the strength that moved through her body.

Unable to resist, he slid a hand around her neck and kissed the curve of her neck then any part of her available while she worked the cloth over his body. When her hand shifted to the fold of his trousers, he groaned.

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