Page 57 of Earl for the Summer
“You are, my love.” He bent to kiss her. The kiss began gently, almost hesitantly, as if he was holding back. But the way he gripped her hip and pulled her an inch closer told her he was as eager as she was.
She deepened the kiss, wrapping a hand around his nape. Cassian responded with equal need. Kissing her as if he couldn’t get enough, then reaching down to pull her skirt up and run his fingers along her bare thigh, just above her stocking.
“I don’t want to wait,” she told him between kisses. Then she pulled back and turned in his arms, looking back at him over her shoulder. “Help me with these?”
Cassian licked his lips, studied the line of buttons down the back of her bodice, then looked into her eyes again, as if to make sure she had no doubts.
“I want this,” she told him. “I want you.”
He made quick work of the buttons and helped her slip from the fabric. Then he kissed her nape, nipping and then soothingthe spot with his tongue as he unhooked the fastening of her skirt. He let out a pleased, throaty sound as it slid over her hips and down to the carpet.
Daphne reached back to the fastening of her petticoat and worked it down her legs. Then she turned to him again.
He watched her as if awestruck as Daphne worked the hooks of her corset free, then let it fall from her waist.
“Just two ribbons left,” she told him, her voice wobbly.
Cassian reached for the first at the neck of her chemise, then Daphne pulled the ruched fabric wide until the soft cotton slid down her shoulders.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
Reverently, he traced his fingers across the curve of her shoulders, down her chest, across the top of her breasts, and then he caressed one nipple with his thumb. When it was pebbled and aching, he bent to take it into the heat of his mouth.
Daphne’s knees felt boneless and she held onto him as he licked and sucked and grazed his teeth against her tender flesh. When he bent to treat her other nipple to the same maddening devotion, she felt a pulsing need build in her core. She squeezed her thighs together to stem the ache he stoked in her.
Then he tugged at the ribbon of her drawers and slid his hands inside to push them down over her hips, his fingers brushing across her curls.
Daphne gripped his shirt for balance as she stepped out of the last of her garments.
Standing in nothing more than her stockings and boots, she felt intensely bare, yet thoroughly bold because Cassian’s adoring gaze made her feel beautiful.
“Now you, Captain.” Even as she said the words, she worked the rest of his shirt buttons.
When she could finally slip it from his shoulders, she hummed with pleasure at the sight of him. The bulge of muscles,the dusting of hair that tapered down to his waist. Then she saw his scar and gently traced her fingers over the whitened ridge. Bending, she kissed his skin and heard his half gasp, half groan. She couldn’t resist kissing and tasting his skin in that tempting hollow below his throat as she worked the fly of his trousers.
Cassian toed off his boots, then pushed his trousers to the floor. Then he wrapped one arm around her and bent to scoop her up with the other.
The heat of him felt so good, Daphne let out a little wanton moan. She never felt as safe as she did in that moment in his arms, bare skin to bare skin.
Cassian grinned wolfishly and settled her on top of the bed.
Then he worked the laces of one of her boots, and the other, helping her remove them. As he did, his gaze kept straying to her body—to her taut nipples aching for his mouth, to the apex of her thighs where he’d worked such wicked magic with his tongue.
When he climbed on the bed, Daphne reached for him, needing to feel his body against hers, but he held back, kneeling before her as he reached for one stocking. He kissed the top of her thigh before tracing the path of the stocking down her leg with his fingertips. When he had both stockings off, he moved closer, one bent knee between her legs, opening her to his gaze as he stroked his fingers across her inner thighs, then up to her center.
“So gorgeous, my love.” He bent his head as he spread her with his fingers and lapped at her, licking with long languorous strokes, then slipping his fingers inside to caress that spot where all of her aching need for him seemed to have gathered.
For one moment, he lifted his head, his gaze intense and adoring. Then he lapped at her again, hands curled around her thighs, holding her as if she was a treasure to savor.
“Cassian.” Daphne stroked her fingers through his hair, bucking against his mouth as pleasure rippled through her. Thenshe clutched at his shoulders, pulling him up, needing to feel more of him.
And he seemed to understand because he positioned himself above her and the perfection of it made her shiver. This is what she wanted—their bodies together, as close to him as she could get. Nothing between them but this all-consuming passion—no fears, no doubts.
Then she felt the hard stroke of him against her, slipping through her wet heat, testing, tempting. His gaze locked on hers, and she saw such love there, it made her breath catch in her throat.
“I want forever with you, Daphne,” he rasped.
“Yes,” she said, then arched up to kiss him.
