Page 90 of The Moonstone Governess
He lit several tapers to give their bedchamber a candlelit glow. The light enhanced the gleam in his deep blue eyes, and she noted their warm shine. “Let me help you out of your gown, love.”
She nodded, eager to finally have his hands on her, to feel the rough pads of his fingers slide along her skin with a magical gentleness. “Shall I help you out of your clothes, too?” she asked.
He laughed softly. “You may, if you like. Otherwise, I’ll just tear mine off, because I am so impatient to have at your sweet body. But I see that my thrifty wife is appalled at the thought of my ruining perfectly good clothes. Yes, we shall go slow. I want you to savor your first time.”
She smiled. “You have such a wicked grin on you.”
“Because I know what is in store for you.” He removed his jacket, cravat, and waistcoat, then turned her slightly so that she had her back to him while he set to work on the buttons and tapes down her back. “This modiste of yours is quite nefarious. She must have put a hundred buttons on this gown.”
“Twenty at most, Daire.”
“Well, seems like a hundred. There, done.” He turned her around to face him and then kissed her softly on the lips, a deep, exquisitely perfect kiss that had her heart beating faster and her body heating. “Feeling warm, love?”
She laughed. “Yes, as I’m sure you fully expected. Oh, and my gown is off.”
He had slipped it off her shoulders and over her hips sometime during their kiss. It now pooled at her feet, so she stepped out of it and bent to retrieve it. Daire took it from her hands and set it aside over one of the large, cushioned chairs beside the hearth in their large bedchamber. He had tossed his own clothes over the matching chair beside it.
He nudged her over to the bed and sat her on it, then knelt to remove her shoes and stockings. She shivered as his hands ran up her legs and he slowly removed her garters. “You have the prettiest legs,” he said, his voice husky as he slid the stockings off her, his fingers exciting her as they skimmed along her thighs.
Then he leaned forward and feathered kisses along her thighs.
She shivered again as heat coursed through her body and turned her liquid. She wore only her chemise now, and he looked splendid in the stark white shirt that hugged his muscled contours. His dark trousers outlined his powerful, long legs.
There was not a hint of softness on his body except for the look in his eyes as he studied her. “Help me off with my cuffs, love.”
She was glad to assist, but her hands shook because she had never felt excited like this. She got them off, and he quickly did the rest, removing his shirt in one flexing move that fascinated her as he casually displayed his sculpted torso.
Dear heaven.
No wonder women did not resist him.
He stood before her wearing only his trousers, his body so sleek and powerful, she could see him as a war god on a fiery chariot.
“Here we go, little dove. Hold on to the bedsheets, because I am going to make you soar.” He nudged her onto her back and settled over her, and both of them sank into the soft mattress. Then he cupped her breast, though her chemise was frustratingly between his palm and her skin. But as he stroked, she found the sensation somehow heightened by that bit of added friction, so she closed her eyes and just let him do what he did best.
It did not take her long before she was indeed grabbing the bedsheets as he played her body with exquisite finesse, his hands all over her, cupping her breasts, stroking her thighs, clasping her hips. She emitted a sigh of relief when he finally removed her chemise, eliminating that last barrier between them so that she felt the heat of his skin against hers. “Brenna, my little dove, you are so beautiful.”
He made her feel that way, the way he worshipped her body, teasing and suckling her breasts, kissing every inch of her, covering her mouth with his as he probed and delved, exciting her and teasing her with his tongue.
He moved down her body, suckling each sensitive spot. She seemed to be sensitive everywhere. Along her neck, her breasts, where she felt sensations so powerful that her entire body turned to flames, and between her legs.
She cried out softly.
“I have you, love,” he whispered, keeping up his intimate onslaught.
She grasped his head, clung to his shoulders, felt boneless and breathless as his hot mouth closed over the bud of one breast and then moved to the other.
Her eyes shot open when his fingers slid up her thighs and he touched herthere.
“Trust me, love,” he said, now working with prowess and taking full possession of her body.
She closed her eyes once more and simply felt his touch, breathed in the musky, male heat of him.
There was a fire in her body that raged and intensified with each new sensation of pleasure. A feeling she could not name began to build within her. She called out Daire’s name, not certain what she was asking for, only that she did not want this exquisite sensation to stop.
“You’re almost there, love,” he whispered.
Almost where?
