Page 60 of Irresistible
“I want you to dare everything,” she breathed. Thiswasmadness, but she didn’t care. When in her life would she have this chance again? She knew Dougal. She wanted him. Whatever happened, she would always have this night.
His eyes narrowed as he released her. “I don’t want to damage your head, so you take down your hair while I remove my wig.”
In response, she began to take the pins from her head. Their gazes were locked as heat built between them. The removal of their hairstyles felt like some sort of mating ritual. As each pin fell to the floor, her body grew more taut, her blood ran hotter.
He tossed his wig aside as she ran her fingers through her loosened plait, freeing the locks so they fell about her shoulders. “Yes, this,” he murmured, reaching for her hair with both hands. Lifting a curl, he inhaled, then dragged it across his lips. “Roses and silk.”
He thrust his fingers into her hair, his hands gripping her scalp, just before his mouth descended on hers with a hungry abandon. She clutched his coat once more and tried, awkwardly, to push it from his shoulders.
Letting her go, he tossed the coat away and set to work on the buttons of his waistcoat. She knew, because her fingers were already there. Together, they opened it, and again, he pulled the garment off and cast it aside.
He wrapped his arms around her, and she reveled in the newfound sensation of his chest pressed to hers with far less clothing. Still, there was too much separating them. She wanted to see and feel him. This was an adventure she’d never planned to take, but now that it was here before her, she would indulge in every part of it.
Perhaps he read her mind, for he brought one hand between them and unfastened her dressing gown. Jess kicked her slippers away and shrugged out of the gown, letting it pool to the floor.
Dougal kissed her neck, starting with the spot he’d found the other night. Shivers danced up and down her body. She clutched at him, holding him fiercely as she basked in his attention. He gripped her waist, his hand massaging her through the linen of her night rail before it crept upward. His thumb moved across her breast, making her gasp.
He lifted his head, and she looked up at him, momentarily confused. Why had he stopped?
“Are you certain this is what you want? I realize things have seemed very…intimate between us. But we aren’t truly married.”
Jess let out a short laugh. “I know that. And I don’t care. Yes, this is what I want, but if you are having second thoughts—”
He claimed her mouth for a fast, searing kiss. “Not second or third thoughts, even. Indeed, my first thought every morning is how I must avoid touching you.”
“Avoid?”
“The more I touch you, the more I want you. Avoidance gives me some semblance of control. Or at least the illusion of it.”
She blinked at him, astonished by these confessions. “I thought I was alone in my yearning.” Until tonight.
Another sensual smile lifted his lips. “I had no inkling you felt anything for me beyond a passing friendship.”
She put her hand over his and moved it fully to her breast. “Feel me. I want you. Completely. You said there was a way to prevent a child. I trust you to do whatever that means.”
“It means I won’t finish inside you. Without my seed, there is no child.”
Of course. Heat flamed her cheeks. “I’m afraid my lack of knowledge is most embarrassing.”
He rubbed his thumb over her nipple, making her eyes narrow as sensation rocked through her. She snagged her lip with her teeth as he pinched her gently.
“You must tell me if you don’t like anything. And if you do,” he added with a slight smile, his brow arching provocatively.
He turned her and backed her legs against the bed. “I should like to see you without this night rail. Is that acceptable to you?”
“Heavens yes. Please. I want to see you too.”
Nodding slightly, he released her so he could remove his stockings. Straightening, he lifted his shirt over his head, his muscles flexing with his movements.
Jess stared, enchanted, at his chest. She put her hand on him, in much the same way he touched her. Brushing her thumb across his nipple, she smiled as he shivered in response. “Breeches?” She let her fingers skim down his abdomen to where a path of dark hair led to his waistband and beyond.
He unbuttoned the fall and pushed them down his hips slowly, inviting her expectant gaze as he revealed himself inch by tantalizing inch. She held her breath until his sex emerged. Long and dark, with a thatch of black curls, it was as beautiful as he was.
He stepped out of the breeches. “That is all of me.”
“Turn.” She’d said it without thinking, but she absolutely wanted him to.
Without hesitation, he rotated, unhurried, allowing her to take in every part of him. From his broad shoulders to his rippled abdomen to his rounded backside, he was absolutely perfect. No statue in any museum or grand house came close to the allure of a real masculine form.Hismasculine form.
