Page 51 of Unmasking the Earl

His hand came over hers in the tangle of his shirt. “Be careful, little one,” he warned. “You’re playing with fire.”

“What kind of gentleman is not prepared to oblige a lady her wishes?”

“A gentleman of honor,” he replied.

Frustration surged through her. “Have we not already gone well beyond the bounds of decency and honor? You were naked last night when you kissed me. We’ve already broken nearly every rule of Society.”

He regarded her and said, “It’s fair to say I started this, not you. But I am a man of honor, despite…everything…and I have every intention of doing the right thing by you.”

“Good,” she said. “Then take off your shirt.”

Watching her closely, he caught at the edges of the linen, brought the garment over his head, and flung it aside. “There. Now what?”

Breaking away from the intensity of his gaze, she let her eyes rove over his superbly muscled chest with its fine smattering of dark hair. Yes, she had seen it before, but it hadn’t been hers then. Now it seemed it might be—and if she didn’t miss his meaning, hers alone.

She laid a hand appreciatively over his hard, male breast and let her fingers glide over the cool, smooth flesh, exploring carefully every mound, every dip of his torso. A primitive, pulse-pounding curiosity prompted her fingers to delve lower, over the softer flesh of his stomach, and even lower still, to see what the skin felt like there.

He groaned and whispered, “Enough. You are making me mad for you.”

“Did you not say this was to be a lesson? Would you not teach me?”

The look in his eyes was dark and dangerous. “Damn your lessons! I’m flesh and blood, not an automaton. You don’t understand what your teasing does to a man.”

She rather thought she did. If it was anything like how he had made her feel, she wanted to do more of it.

Balancing up on tiptoe for another kiss, she reached around and started to explore his naked back. She pressed tightly against him and could feel his male member swelling as she’d once seen a stallion’s do when covering a mare, and pushing against her abdomen.

His breathing was coming faster now—as was hers—and when he bent his head for another kiss, the meeting of their mouths became nothing less than frenzied. His hands cupped her head then burrowed deep in her hair, massaged her shoulders and rode swiftly up and down her arms as if trying to touch all of her at once.

“No!” he rasped, and pulled out of her grasp. “You’re pushing me to a point beyond which I can no longer trust myself. I want to make love to you more than you can possibly imagine. But Cassie, you are young and innocent, and you’re not yet mine. To take you now would be greed of the most selfish sort. I cannot do it.”

“Oh, but—it all feels so good.”

He gave her a shaky smile. “Hussy.”

She studied his naked chest again, slowly, trying to tame the wild and wanton impulses that had taken over her body. “Yes. I suppose I am. Is that so very wrong?”

“In the marriage bed, not at all. But in a wheat field? Where anyone could come upon us?”

“It was you who carried me here,” she said peevishly, frustration rolling through her like thunder. “What were you planning to do, if not this?”

“I wasn’t planning to tumble you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just wanted…something more than a kiss.”

“Then take it,” she urged quietly. “I offer it freely.”

Her words were greeted with a low moan. “What manner of wanton have I unleashed in you?”

Very deliberately, she slipped the shoulders of her gown lower, then allowed it to slide to the ground, and stood before him in nothing but her loosened corset and chemise. Then she stepped out of the dress and wound her arms around his neck, pressing her aching nipples against him. Needing…

Relief.

His hands clenched on either side of her waist as if to ease her away, but then gentled. “If this is the way you want it, Cassie, then you must become either my mistress or my wife.”

“As you wish.”

“Ours won’t be an easy relationship, I fear.”

“I daresay we will learn each other’s ways in time,” she said, running her hands over his heated flanks. “I will try to be good, if you will.”