Page 88 of The Heart of an Earl

She laughed, landing on her back, but then propped her torso upright with her elbows. “Please do.”

“Challenge accepted.” He started toward the bed, then paused, stepping back.

Her eyebrows lifted. “Sitting alone in bed is not decadent in the slightest.”

A salacious grin took over his face. “But I think a naked man catering to your every whim might be.”

She chuckled. “I’ll order one of those, please.”

Des dragged free his cravat, shrugged off his coat, unbuttoned his waistcoat and the fall front of his trousers, all while staring at her like a starved leopard. Sleek and strong and choosing the right moment to pounce and devour her.

A prickle ran through her core, setting the crux of her to fire.

He was slow—slow on purpose. Bugger. Slow because he could see the hunger—quickly becoming desperate—in her eyes.

His lawn shirt came off, his boots and trousers dropped to the floorboards.

He took one step forward, the whole of him naked, the cords of muscles along his stomach twitching, the lines cutting along his arms, his biceps, flashing shadows in the light of the fire. The whole of him a marble god.

Undeniable.

She started to scoot forward on the bed, but he pounced, his knees straddling her calves on the bed, his hands alongside her hips.

Hovering over her, he stalked his way up her body, his hazel eyes greedy as they moved along every inch of her. He made it to her face and his stare locked into her gaze and wrapped around her soul, the very life of her, branding her as his again.

He’d always seen her—her spirit, who she truly was. The very thing he’d taken with him when she thought him dead.

He’d kept the best of her and now she had him back. Her heart whole once more.

Des dipped downward to the point where his face was directly above hers, the heat of his breath mixing with her exhales. So close to kissing her, but hovering, not descending. Their entwined stares locked in a dance that transcended all of the time, all of the angst, all of the heartache of the last five years.

He was hers again.

With an inhale that sent him downward, the restraint he’d shown thus far shattered and his mouth locked onto hers, searing her with a kiss. His right hand slipped behind her back, his fingers weaving through the ribbon along her gown closure.

A growl rumbled through his chest and he pulled up, flipping her over on the bed with ease. His fingers set onto the top of her spine just below the upsweep of her hair and dragged down the bumps along her neck, her skin prickling under his touch. His mouth came down, his lips following the path he’d just traced with the pad of his finger.

His fingers slipped up into her hair and pins started to fall out, dropping onto the bed, the upsweep that took Lady Hewton’s most practiced maid an hour to concoct disassembled in seconds.

Des dragged her hair free, one lock at a time, draping them over her shoulders and onto the bed.

He dipped down, his breath on the hollow just below her left ear. “I’ve missed this, missed your hair, missed the scent of you, missed the feel of your skin under my fingers.”

His hands moved down to the ribbon holding her gown closed. “Bloody nonsense.”

She craned her neck to the side, but couldn’t quite angle a look at him. “What?”

“Your dress is knotted.” His fingers dipped between the top edge of the dress and her skin. “To the hell with it. Sloane has quite the wardrobe.”

“Why are you talking about the duchess?”

“Because I don’t have time for this and she is very generous with her guests. Especially with her clothing.”

Before Jules could say a word, ribbons tore and threads popped free on the back of her gown. In a furious frenzy of hands and silk and muslin her clothes disappeared off her body. Some torn, some falling away in fear of Des’s path of destruction.

She should have been upset. But for how much her body wanted his, she couldn’t fault him for the efficiency.

The tip of his tongue swirled along her neck and dragged down her spine until he moved to the left, his mouth tickling the side of her stomach as he flipped her onto her back again.

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