Page 48 of Stolen By the Duke of Stone

Above, her garter held the stockings in place, and he slid his hand up toward it.

Her questing fingers found his cravat, rumpling it in her desperation to remove it from him. Well, there seemed no harm in that; it was the end of the day, and he had no further need for a cravat. Nor did he have any need for a coat, which he allowed her to toss to one side. Next, she fumbled with the buttons of his waistcoat.

He found her garter and unfastened it, drawing her stocking down her leg. Soft skin greeted him as a reward, and the next time he slid his palm up her calf, it was bare.

His gut clenched.

This was madness. He ought to stop, or he would find himself unable to stop, but he didn’t know how. Couldn’t bring himself to slow down even a fraction.

She finally unbuttoned his waistcoat, and he allowed her to once again slide it off his arms and toss it aside. When his valet found the mess, the poor man would be furious, but never mind that.

It took him very little time to remove her other garter, and then there was nothing on her legs that might hinder his passage between them. He explored the tender skin of her inner thigh, and she shivered.

“Do you want me to stop?” The words came out thick, as though through honey.

Stopping was the very last thing he wanted. In fact, he could not imagine anything he wanted less.

“No,” she whispered, now wrapping her legs around his waist. “Don’t stop.”

He could not afford to ravish her in quite the way his body demanded. He had been hard from the very beginning, and now the ache felt as though it consumed him, body and mind. But if he got her with child, that would be a disaster.

No, he could not do that. But he could give her something and see to himself later. Once she was satisfied, she would not think to ask about him, probably. After all, she had no experience; this was her first time being with a man of any description, so of course she would not know that what he was about to do was, perhaps, not the full joining of man and wife.

He spread her legs wider still and kissed down her neck. “All right,” he told her, licking the soft curve of her collarbone. “I won’t stop unless you tell me to.”

Jessamine dug her fingers into Andrew’s hair as he descended down her body, kissing her breasts through her clothes.

She wished she were wearing less.

He had meticulously removed her stockings, and she had presumed that meant he would be removing the remainder of her clothes. Instead, her skirts bunched by her hip, and he kissed her nipple through the layers of material covering it. His heat of his mouth was only a vague sensation.

And yet, despite that, she found herself tightening everywhere. Heat pooled between her legs. It was just as demanding and potent a sensation as before—in the trees—or if anything, more intense. She knew that if he didn’t do something about this slick ache, she would feel it for the rest of the night. Unsatisfied.

He had promised he would not stop. She had to believe that.

She arched her back into his mouth, and he smiled. His fingers came up to pluck at her nipples, barely visible through her dress, but achingly hard. “Does this mean you want me, Jessamine?”

Admitting it took sacrificing all her pride, but she forced herself to do it anyway. “Yes.”

He made a muffled sound of pleasure, or perhaps it was appreciation. Relief. All she knew was the sound made the low ache between her legs even worse. She throbbed with need, and she hoped he knew how to ease it for her, because she had never experienced anything like this before.

“There we go,” he murmured, reaching her stomach and pushing her skirts up a little further to reveal bare skin.

His mouth grazed there. Soft, teasing kisses that were only a portion of what he could, what she knew he could do.

She wanted more. Helplessly, endlessly. Desperately.

“Please,” she gasped.

“Please what?” he asked against her hipbone, upon which he was lavishing all his attention. She didn’t know what about that subtle little jut of bone had entranced him so, but there could be no denying his interest.

“More,” she begged.

“More what?”

“Andrew.”

He chuckled, lighter than she had seen him, and brought the fingers at her lower thigh up a little. Then a little more.