Page 81 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
She ran the tip of her thumb across his lips, and he parted them to capture it in his mouth. His tongue, soft and gentle, caressed her thumb, and she let out a low groan as a lick of desire curled in her belly.
He withdrew, uncertainty clouding his gaze. “Etty, are you well?”
“Oh, yes,” she whispered. “I am very well. Can you not tell?”
“I-I’m afraid… I have never—” He broke off, his cheeks flaming.
Sweet Lord—he was nervous!
She placed her hand on his cheek, and a fizz of pleasure ran through her veins at the feel of the stubble on his chin against her skin.
“I trust you,” she whispered.
“But I have seen the fear in your eyes,” he said.
“I have never had occasion to fearyou, Andrew.”
“That time we kissed, in this very room,” he said, “I saw your fear—only for a moment, but it was long enough. I c-cannot touch you if I make you afraid.”
She shuddered at the memory that kiss had elicited—Dunton’s fleshy face leering at her while he claimed her body, while she parted her thighs like any whore, selling her maidenhead for the promise of a title…
He stiffened and retreated, but she caught his hand.
“No, Andrew,” she said. “It was not you I fear, but a memory.”
He blinked, slowly, then let out a sigh.
“I should have known,” he said. “When you confessed your secret. I only feel ashamed that even for the briefest moment I judged you for giving yourself to another. But in trusting me with your secret, you have shown yourself to be a better person than I could ever be. All that remains for me to do is a apologize on behalf of my sex for the blackguard who harmed you—andto promise that I shall spend every day, until I breathe my last, striving to ensure that none shall harm you again.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “I shall honor you now by leaving you in peace until we can make the necessary arrangements.”
The necessary arrangements…
She smiled at his words. Like a nervous pup, he was unable to refer to their marriage, to ask her outright. But it was not because he valued her any less—it was because he valued her too much that the fear of her rejection prevented him from risking his heart.
But it mattered not. As he’d pledged to spend the rest of his life keeping her safe from harm, she would spend the rest of her days teaching him to trust her, as she trusted him.
And what greater expression of trust was there than to give herself wholly to him? Not to secure her position, or to coerce him into marriage—but a true gift of herself.
The greatest gift a woman could bestow on the man she loved.
She took his hand and kissed his knuckles. Then, meeting his gaze, she placed his hand on her breast.
His nostrils flared as he drew in a sharp breath, and she caught the flare of desire in his eyes.
“Sweet heaven…” he whispered. Uncertainty filled his gaze, while she remained still, smiling her encouragement. Then he shifted his hand, and a spark of desire flared as her nipple beaded against his palm. He flicked his tongue out, running it across his lower lip as if in anticipation of the feast to come. “Wh-what do I…”
“Anything you like, my love,” she said, arching her back to press her breast against his palm.
He let out a low whimper, and, swallowing her shame at her wantonness, she grasped her neckline and lowered it to reveal the swell of her breast, the skin flushing a deep pink.
“Anything at all…”
Slowly, he dipped his head until she could feel his breath caressing the skin of her breasts. Then he placed a kiss on the top of one.
“Yes…” she breathed, tipping her head back.
He peppered her skin with tiny kisses while she murmured encouragement, then he flicked his tongue out again until the tip reached her nipple. He stiffened, as if uncertain, and she remained still, anticipation swelling within her. Then he curled his tongue around her nipple and drew it into his mouth.
