Page 62 of Ladies in Hating
God, that she could tease at such a moment. Georgiana let her petticoats fall and worked off her boots as well. “No. But I would rather have you with me.”
I would rather not be alone.
She thought she kept the words inside her head, where they belonged, but Cat’s face softened as though she’d heard. “I am here with you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Georgiana slipped out of her stays. Her chemise was very soft linen, but even the fine white weave felt coarse where it brushed against her nipples, which had gone tight beneath Cat’s gaze. She brought her fingers to the tie that held her chemise, then hesitated.
“Please,” Cat said, very softly. “I want to see you.”
Georgiana’s breath was coming quickly now.
She understood what was happening. Neither of them could be borne away by passion like this. Not when each movement was deliberate: a slow baring of Georgiana’s body.
Of her heart.
Georgiana let the chemise slide down her body, and sheshuddered at the feeling of the fabric coasting like a breath over her hot, sensitive skin.
Cat’s lips were parted, and when she spoke, her eyes were fixed on Georgiana’s own. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
And then, very slowly, she looked down. Her gaze moved over Georgiana’s body, naked but for her stockings. Her fingers flexed at her sides.
Pleasure hit Georgiana in a hot, vertiginous flush. She had not known she would relish this—the calm assurance in Cat’s voice, the thrill of Cat’s eyes upon her naked body. The deliberate surrender of her own closely guarded control.
She had not known such a thing could be erotic. Desire tightened her lower belly, pulsed urgently between her thighs as she stood still beneath Cat’s deliberate perusal.
“Take off your stockings,” Cat said, and then, “no. Wait. Let me.”
She knelt in front of Georgiana, her chemise pooling on the floor, and her fingers—cool and callused and deft—going to the ribbons at the tops of Georgiana’s stockings.
Georgiana caught her breath. She put her hand to Cat’s head, tangling in all that mass of heavy dark hair, and shuddered at the feel of Cat’s breath on her skin, on the slow, unhurried way she rolled Georgiana’s stockings down her legs.
When Cat was finished, she sat back, and Georgiana could not help herself. She passed her thumb across those spiced-wine lips and paused to caress the corner of Cat’s mouth.
Cat swallowed hard. “In the tub,” she murmured. “Don’t tempt me.”
Georgiana let Cat help her into the tub. It was small—she sat half–folded up, her knees bent—and the water had gone lukewarmin the time since the maids had brought it up. But there were still cans of water on the grate, and Cat brought them over one at a time. She tipped one into the bath, and Georgiana gasped at the sensation of hot water swirling around her hips, her ankles.
“Too hot?” Cat asked. A smile played around her mouth, and her fingers slipped beneath Georgiana’s knee.
Each little touch—the eddy and slide of the water against her skin—all of it aroused Georgiana further. “Not too hot.” Her voice was breathless.
Cat’s dark eyes caught and lingered on her face. “Good. Close your eyes. Lean your head back.”
Georgiana did. She let her lids fall closed, and the uncertainty of what Cat meant to do felt strange and stimulating. She waited, almost panting, desire like a plucked string vibrating through her body.
Hot water trickled over her hair and rolled in a stream down her spine. Cat’s fingers touched her cheek, her hair, and then withdrew. Georgiana struggled to keep her eyes closed against the onslaught of sensation: the spill of heat, then Cat’s touch, then the water again, in waves down Georgiana’s back and across her breasts.
It was unpredictable. Thrilling. Devastating.
Cat’s fingertip traced a path down Georgiana’s spine, then slid around to stroke the outside of Georgiana’s breast. Somehow she’d found soap—her fingers were slippery and smelled of roses. She toyed with Georgiana’s nipple, almost casually, and Georgiana could not stop the whimper that slipped past her lips. The way her hips moved restlessly in the water.
“Do you like that?” Cat’s voice was in her ear, and Georgiana could feel the movement of her lips. Cat slid slick fingers along Georgiana’s nipple again, first one, then both at the same time, her arms wrapping around Georgiana from behind.
“Yes,” Georgiana rasped. “God, Catriona. Yes. Let me—” She caught at Cat’s soft upper arm, but her hand was wet and Cat slipped free.
“Not yet,” Cat said. “Stand up first. Keep your eyes closed.”
Georgiana clutched at the sides of the tub as she rose. Water cascaded down her body, and though the room was warm, she felt cold and hot at the same time. Her knees wobbled, and then Cat was there.
