Page 38 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
He brushed her hair back across her shoulder. ‘I was not complaining, Katherine.’ Her eyes opened. ‘I like your shyness and your blushes. I treasure them. But I equally like the brash girl who will willingly kiss me back. I hate this thing,’ he whispered, beginning to release the buttons securing her spencer. ‘You wear it every day, no matter the heat. It is as though you hide behind it.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘We are not all wealthy, John.’ She seemed insulted. ‘I have only one spencer, I do not have a choice, unless it is not to wear it and to have more freckles.’
‘Your freckles make me smile,’ he said, while he thought,does she have so little?Phillip’s family were not poor, surely. ‘Take it off.’ The order was probably too harsh as his mind turned over her words, but she did his bidding.
He took off his waistcoat and his neckcloth too, then kissed her once more, banishing their conversation, denying the differences in their status. Here she was only Katherine and he was only John. That was all he wished to think about.
His fingers undid the buttons which secured her bodice, opening it all the way down. The fabric gaped, revealing milk-white breasts spilling over the top of her corset. His fingers pressed within. A catch in her breath answered his touch. He lifted one soft warm breast free from the restraint.
She leaned back on her hands as though she offered herself as his sacrifice.
She was beautiful.
He kissed her breast, gently, honouring that tender flesh.
When he lifted his head and looked at her again, her eyes were darker. They were not really turquoise at all, merely greys which deceived the eye and portrayed blue.
His thumb ran over her nipple and made her shiver.
‘Touch me in return.’ He wanted to feel her hands on him. He wanted her participation, not only her acceptance.
She sat upright, and her eyes fell to his stomach as her palms braced the muscle at his waist, over the thin cotton of his shirt. She smiled as her fingers curved into the cloth and pulled it up, drawing it out of his waistband.
He took a deep breath and let her strip it off.
She chewed on her lip as he freed his head and arms from the shirt. Her eyes and hands skimmed over his torso as he put the shirt aside.
His groin became heavy with need. Leaning forward, he bent over her to unlace her stays. He wanted to feel her skin against his.
‘John…’ she whispered when she was naked to the waist, her gaze meeting his. She was afraid now, he could see and hear that.
‘I will not hurt you. I will do nothing you do not want to.’
His hands cupped her breasts and he kissed her again.
She kissed him back, revelling in everything John did to her as her fingers sifted through his hair.
His touch was exquisitely gentle. His fingers kneaded her breasts and trailed across her bare skin.
She dared herself to touch him too, and let her hands fall to his shoulders.
He was hot and his skin felt like velvet. The muscles across his abdomen were rigid slopes and hollows.
Her thighs rested open about his as he kissed and touched her. Her heart pounded. She craved him with something that was painful misery and blissful hunger, as the tension he had taught her body the day before rose.
The things he did were wicked and wrong, her conscience shouted, but she did not listen. ‘I think this you is the real you, this reckless girl who has come to tryst with me.’ She had known this was who she was for a long time.
His head lowered and his mouth claimed her breast again, tugging on her nipple as he sucked her gently. Her fingers rested in his hair as the place between her thighs, where he touched her yesterday begged for attention.
‘John, please.’ The words came out as a tortured sound.
His head lifted and he smiled as his fingers slid her skirt and petticoats upwards. Her fingers shook as she held his bright crystalline gaze as she released the buttons of his waistband. He did not stop her. She did not stop him.
His hands slipped beneath her petticoats and brushed her inner thighs.
Shivering, she instinctively moved forward to sit flush against his body.
She did not dare touch him where she wished to. But she pushed his trousers and underwear down, and held his hips, her fingertips pressing into the first curve of his buttocks as he kissed her deeply, his tongue penetrating her mouth, as her breasts crushed against his chest. It was the most beautiful feeling in the world to be so close to him physically.
