Page 72 of The Love Potion
“You know I do.”
He scrambled up to his knees, grinning at her like a boy with a treat. His evening jacket was gone, and she saw the breadth of his chest illuminated by the moonlight as he settled between her thighs. It was an undignified position for her, but he appeared tolove it. She was spread out naked before him, and he stretched forward to rub his palms across her ribs and breasts.
“I didn’t get to enjoy this as much as I wanted to earlier. Believe me, Kynthea, I’m going to enjoy this as much as you do.”
She didn’t think that was possible, and so she would have said except that she had no breath. He was fondling her breasts and she couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling back in pleasure. Then he gave them one last pinch before sliding his hands down to her hips. Looping his arms beneath her legs, he raised her up.
Her eyes flew open. Lord, he was stronger than she’d thought. And while his eyes danced with delight, he set his mouth to her most private parts.
His tongue was clever, surprising her with the very randomness of his exploration. Long strokes, penetrating thrusts, teasing flutters—he did them all, and she wanted to laugh at the playfulness of it. Instead, she was overcome by the sensations.
Her body was tightening, each tease of his tongue making her belly quiver. Her legs tightened, and she couldn’t keep herself quiet. She had the wherewithal to put a pillow over her face, but the sounds she made were only a distant echo of the turbulence within her.
He was unrelenting as he kept her body on the edge of the cliff without pushing her over. And she was in heaven. She’d never acted with such abandon, never felt more wonder in her body. She’d… never…
Never ever.
She never wanted it to end.
He increased his pace, and there was nothing to do but ride the dance of his tongue. Her belly rolled, all unbearably tight. Like a spring coiling to the very edge of possibility and then…
Flight. She didn’t so much leap off the cliff into her quickening as let him throw her into the air. How glorious itwas! So much more now that she understood what this was. She didn’t know if each one would be like this, and she didn’t care.
She soared.
And when she came back, he was stroking her belly, kissing the underside of her breast, petting her arms and her shoulders. He seemed to need to touch her, and she loved the way he caressed her.
Until he left her side. She felt the bed react to his movements and hated the suddenly cool air around her. She turned to see where he went and was warmed to see what he did.
First, he stripped out of the last of his clothes. She saw the corded thickness of his thighs and calves. He was a man who exercised, that was for sure. His buttocks were trim, his torso broad and strong. And his organ thrust thick and proud to her hungry sight. She remembered touching it earlier in the day, and her hands coiled with the desire to do so again. But it didn’t look like she would get the chance.
He grabbed the envelope with the French letter in it. He happened to be in profile as he slid it on, and she watched with fascination at the movement of his body. His hands looked big and sure. His back curved as he worked, but that only emphasized his height since even bent over, he appeared tall. His legs were spread, but from the side she saw the ripple of his muscles as he balanced. And then—tease that he was—he turned to grin at her. He’d known she was looking and now straightened to his full height and faced her.
He looked magnificent.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said as he stepped forward. “I swear we will fit together like a hand in a glove.”
“I’m not afraid,” she said as she pushed up onto her elbow. “I’m just wondering how a man shaped like a Greek God has come to want me.”
His expression fell and his eyes grew sad. “You underestimate yourself,” he said gently.
No, she didn’t. She knew her value by society’s standards. But perhaps that was the point. He judged her by his own standard, and because of that, her heart swelled.
He came close, settling onto the bed as he touched her face. “You’re beautiful, intelligent, and everything I value in a woman. Why don’t you see that?”
He was sincere. She could see it in his expression and feel it in his caress, and yet part of her refused to believe. “You have heard what people say about me. And now…” She gestured to the bed. “Now, I am a fallen woman.”
“Fallen to me.”
“Either way. There are poor women everywhere who are lovely and intelligent. They are abused constantly.”
“Who abused you?”
“No one.”
“Someone had to. Someone taught you long before we met that you have little value.” He frowned. “Was it the vicar after your parents died?”
“Him? No. The depths of his depravity surprised me, but not his lack of character.”
