Page 16 of The Duke's Price
“What is it you are wearing?” Ruth asked.
“Mogul pants. Comfortable wear around the house, and I prefer them to sleeping naked.”
“One normally wears a night shirt,” she reminded him.
De-Ath smirked at her. “One might. I do not. Horrid things. They get all tangled around one’s legs, or ride up and make lumps under one’s hip. Or worse. Come here and give me a kiss, Ruth.”
Kiss him? When she was naked under her night rail, with no stays or petticoats to give her a sense of protection? When he was completely unclothed except for a pair of thin silk pantaloons? She couldn’t do it.
But he had his hand held out for her to take, and was waiting. Patiently. The fiend.
Torn between fear and what even an innocent like her knew to be lust, she took one slow step and then another, until she could put her hand into his.
5
At last! If his heart beat any louder, she would hear it. Ruth had come to him. Before she joined him, he had taken temporary measures to prevent a hair trigger reaction. He had, in fact, seen to his own needs so they would not be too insistent while he gave her pleasure. After all, tonight was just one more step in her education and seduction.
He’d not done such a thing in years. He was not a cub, still wet behind the ears, allowing his desires to drive him. He’d been celibate before, sometimes for months on end, and had not allowed it to bother him, nor to prevent him from enjoying himself in the fashion of a gentleman when he reached a temporary oasis in the desert of female company, with expert attention to her delight and his own.
Something about Ruth Henwood tested his self-control as no one else had in years. Even now, freshly satisfied in a physical sense, he could feel his interest stirring again. Not bad for a man of three and forty!
He pulled her to him, and wrapped his free arm around her delectable form while bringing their linked hands up to rest onhis breast. “Would it be easier for you to reach my lips if we sit?” he asked.
Her eyes had darkened as her pupils expanded. “I suppose,” she admitted.
Agreement enough to scoop her up and place her on the bed, leaning against the pillows. He hurried around to the other side and took his own place beside her. “Better?” he asked.
When he had been a boy, running wild over his ancestral lands with Walter ever at his side, a poacher had taught them how to tickle fish. They hadn’t, at the time, known the fellow was a poacher. To them, he was just an old man who didn’t mind them being around, as long as they did not scare the fish.
The trick was to stay very quiet, to move very slowly and carefully, feeling under the banks with fingers that drifted like the water. Then, on encountering a fish, one had to move the hand gently up the belly, from the tail to the head, barely touching the fish, until the hand could firmly grasp the head.
Patience and gentleness were the keys to trout tickling, as they were to seduction. Perry lay back against the pillows and stroked Ruth’s arm with the fingertips of one hand, with barely any weight in the brush of his hand. Perhaps a little more than he would have used had her arms been bare, for he wanted her to feel his touch.
He said nothing, waiting and touching, touching and waiting.
At last, he was rewarded. With a sigh, she came up on her elbow, put a hand on the side of his face, and bent to lay her lips on his.
This time, she knew about the play of mouth on mouth, tongue on tongue. This time, he intended to take her a little further. With her above him, he had both hands free, and he began at her neck, at the soft spot below the ears, again just a soft brush, slightly more substantial than a breeze.
He wanted to cheer when she moved to accommodate him.No frightening the maiden.A few more moments, and then he allowed his lips to follow where his fingers had been, letting his fingers drift lower. She tasted so incredible that he forgot his plan for a minute, instead simply letting his senses soak in everything about her. Her scent—something floral but with an edge of spice, her taste—tooth powder and something indefinably Ruth in her mouth, pure Ruth as he licked and sucked her neck, lower and lower, his fingers having made short work of the ribbon ties.
Sound, too. Moans and whimpers that she did her best to keep to herself, so that every single one was precious.
Her untutored response was ruining him for the artificial theatrics of the experienced women he usually bedded, who seemed to think his generosity would depend on their flattery of his performance.
And oh, the sight of her, the feel of her! If he died tonight, he would die happy, though he had every intention of living, at least long enough to enjoy her to the full. More than once. Once would not be enough to drive her from under his skin. She had possessed him, and the only way he knew to exorcise her was to let her further in.
If he allowed himself think about it, it would terrify him, so he wouldn’t think. He would just enjoy her. A little more. Surely, she was ready for a little more? A kiss on her nipple! He reared up and pivoted her backward against the pillows, falling on her and taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking her through the linen, all in one movement.
For a moment, she stiffened in shock and he feared he had gone too far, but even as he started to lift his head to apologise, she softened again, and arched her back to lift her breast against his mouth.
A touch skin to skin! He needed it more than he needed to breathe. Slowly, carefully, gently, trying not to attract her attention, he stretched out his arm to use one hand to gather her nightgown, lifting it from her ankle to her knee. A little more and it would be up to her hips and his hand would be on the bare skin of her thigh.
“De-Ath?” Her voice was strained, soft. “You said kisses.”
He had pushed her too far. Time to retreat. “And caresses, but if this is as far as you wish to go, darling Ruth, let me make the other breast feel as good as this one.”
He hiked himself higher on his elbow to reach the other breast, and—he offered fervent thanks whatever capricious power sometimes gave rakes more than their just deserts—she turned towards him to make it easier.
