Page 116 of Every Rake Has A Silver Lining

Would she still think the grin he delivered ridiculous? Yet, he couldn’t help himself. “True. But I’m . . . different now.” At her perplexed expression, he whispered, “Larger. Erect.” He nuzzled the sensitive spot on her neck. “Because of you.”

Before he knew it, she unfastened the rest of the buttons, and his trousers dropped around his hips. He pushed them off completely, and they fell to the floor, exposing his arousal.

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Don’t you wear small clothes?”

“I decided against them after my bath. The trousers were only for your delicate sensibilities.” He nipped at her neck again. “Little did I know you would be so wanton.”

And nothing pleased him more.

CHAPTER 31

Wanton? Power surged through Charlotte at the control Simon gave her. And strangely, that control freed her. If being wanton was being unrestrained, then she embraced being wanton.

It was almost as frightening as the storm. Because, although Simon stood before her naked, she was the vulnerable one.

Should she let her guard down? Trust him? Let him in?

The door to her heart creaked and moaned, resisting the tug to open, its hinges rusted from years of neglect. Determined, Charlotte tugged harder, the child she’d kept hidden behind it clawing her way out.

And she faced the fact that she cared about the man before her. Given time, she might even grow to love him. The idea so unexpected, a laugh bubbled up from her throat.

Simon quirked a brow. “Please tell me you’re not laughing at my . . .” He cast his gaze down to his arousal.

She laughed again, the sound joyous, wonderful, and—freeing. “No. I’m laughing because I love that you called me wanton.”

He pulled her toward him, his arousal pressing into her stomach. “Then I shall call you wanton more often,” he said, nipping at her earlobe. “Because I love when you laugh.”

Liberated, she placed both palms on his bare chest and pushed him away, quickly reassuring him as his forehead dented with a frown. “Only for a moment.” When she moved to untie the ribbons of her nightrail, he stopped her.

“Allow me. Please. I’ve been dreaming about this since our wedding day.” Seriousness replaced the sparkle of mischief and amusement usually shining in his eyes. “And if I’m honest, even before that. As much as I didn’t wish to admit it, I think I wanted you from the moment we met.”

“But you detested me.”

His fingers played with the silky ribbon. “No. Not exactly. I hated my attraction to you because of who you were.”

Ah.“Because I’m a Talbot.”

“Yes.” With excruciating slowness, he pulled the ribbon loose, the loop growing smaller until it fell straight against the cotton fabric. “But you’re a Beckham now, and I’m eager to explore every inch of you and discover what you enjoy.”

With the gown open at her neck, he tugged the material from her shoulders, then proceeded to pepper her with kisses.

She shivered with pleasure.

“You like that.” The confidence in his voice normally would have encouraged her to respond with a scathing setdown.

A low moan drifted up from low in her chest and escaped, and Simon chuckled, the air from his breath tickling her skin further.

“Definitely,” he said before moving down to her collarbone. “Now let me see if you respond in kind when I touch you here.”

Unprepared, she pulled in a gasp when his hand found her breast and he thumbed her nipple. Her eyes shuttered as her head dropped back at the pleasurable sensations sweeping through her.

Oh, my goodness.

A sudden chill swept over her, and she opened her eyes to find her nightrail pooled to the floor at her feet and Simon staring at her as if he wished to devour her whole.

“Like a goddess. I knew it,” he muttered, his voice so gravelly she barely recognized it. When he met her gaze directly, he appeared as a man possessed. “Permission to lift you onto the bed, my lady?”

How could her head be so heavy? She barely nodded her answer, then slid her arms around his neck.

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