Page 10 of A Love to Remember
In two swift tugs, Philip pulled down the sleeves of her gown, trapping her arms at her sides with the bodice crumpled at her waist, leaving her breasts screened only by the translucent silk of her chemise.
“God, you are a feast for a starving man.” He ran a finger over one hardening nipple, and the flare of hunger on her face as she watched him watch her went straight to his cock. “So beautiful.”
Her breasts rose and fell in a shuddering laugh. “Then devour me.”
His awareness and every last one of his slavering senses locked—intently—on her. On her curvaceous body trapped beneath his. On the utterly absorbing sight of all she was offering him. He barely kept his hands from shaking as they reached up and, gripping her silk chemise, ripped it apart, baring her to his gaze.
Her excited intake of breath made those wonderful breasts lift and fall again, and he could no longer resist. Taking one plump nipple into his mouth, he suckled. Hard.
Slowly, he eased her gown down her body before tossing it on the floor. The torn chemise was next, and finally he sat astride her hips, admiring her creamy expanse of silken skin. A quick glance over his shoulder at her long limbs told him she still wore her stockings. But nothing else.
He turned back and grinned down at her.
“You have me at your mercy. What are you going to do to me?”
She could drive a man wild with that husky voice.
“That would be telling, my darling. I prefer actions to words.”
She shivered at his words, her skin puckering in anticipation, and he hadn’t even touched her. “Stay still. Stay exactly like this. Don’t move.”
Pulse racing, he eased off the bed.
Quickly, he shrugged out of his jacket. Then his waistcoat. Almost ripped his shirt in his hurry to pull it over his head.
He smothered a grin when she licked her lips as her gaze locked on his chest.
“Oh, what a shame,” she cooed. “Your bronzed glow from summer is fading already. I do have to say, though, that you look wonderful naked. It’s a sin to clothe such a muscular body.”
He laughed in delight at her teasing. “You’d be happy if I walked around naked? How thoughtful of you. How the ladies of thetonwould appreciate that.”
She pretended to pout. “Would you like that? To have all the ladies slavering over you?”
His little Rose was jealous? His grin widened. “I want only one woman’s undivided attention, my sweet. And that woman is you.”
Her pout faded to a saucy grin. “You have it. You really have it.”
Tossing his shirt aside, he used one hand to undo the buttons of his fall. Impatient, he sat, removed his buckskins, and dispensed with his Hessians. Finally, he untied his drawers and let them drop to the floor.
Then, naked and more than ready for her, he prowled to the bed.
She tensed as he put a knee on the bed, as he leaned over her and pressed kisses to her shoulder.
When his body came to rest on top of her the contact seared him to his core. She deserved to hear words of love. His words. He wanted to say what was in his heart but he couldn’t and it killed him. Instead, he swore to show her. To teach her what was in his heart.
He kissed down her neck and across her décolletage while his hands cupped and caressed her bountiful breasts. She parted her long, stocking-clad legs to accommodate him between her thighs, her impatience obvious.
But Philip was in no hurry. He’d dreamed of her for two months, and when a man held his dream woman in his arms he did not miss any opportunity to indulge his desire.
He tweaked one nipple as his mouth found the other and suckled deep. He continued to play with her breasts, licking and sucking and caressing until Rose’s moans grew in volume and her breathing hitched and caught. Loving how responsive she was to him, Philip began to kiss his way down her body.
As he sank between her opened thighs the scent of her arousal filled his senses. He could not wait to taste her. He ran his tongue over her open womanhood and felt her tremble beneath his hands. He loved having her open to his mouth, his tongue, and fingers. Tonight he would not take her until she had screamed his name.
He looked up at her face. She was watching him with eyes bright with need. “Shall I stop and fetch a handkerchief to stuff into your mouth so you don’t wake the house?”
Her eyes darkened with desire, and she reached under her pillow. “Do your worst,” she said huskily, and withdrew a handkerchief.
“My worst?” He shook his head, and as he lowered his mouth he murmured, “Always my best, my dear. Always my best.”
