by Anna Bradley
He went utterly still when she kissed him, as if stunned by the shy touch of her lips against his, but in the next breath a low groan rumbled from his chest, and he clasped her face in his hands and looked down at her as if he never wanted to let her go. He brushed a finger against her lower lip. “Your mouth is so sweet, love.”
She kissed his fingertip, and he took her lips again with another groan. His fingers sank into her hair, holding her still as he kissed her harder, his mouth opening over hers, devouring her.
She wrapped her arms around him and her lips opened under his with a breathless sigh, and then he was kissing her everywhere, her lips and her neck, her throat, and she was panting for him, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling hard.
His hands slid down her back to her waist, squeezing her there before they moved lower to cup her backside and urge her against him. A strangled cry left her lips when she felt him pressed against her, his body hard and urgent. She could feel how much he wanted her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist to pull him closer. “Ethan—”
He tore his lips from hers and set her away from him with gentle hands at her waist. “Not here. Come upstairs with me, sweetheart.”
She looked into his eyes, and without a word she took his hand and led him from the kitchen. He didn’t speak as they mounted the stairs, and not a word passed his lips as she led him down the hall, but his warm hand was wrapped tightly around hers, and she could feel his gaze on the side of her face as she opened the door to his bedchamber.
He followed her inside, and before she could draw a breath he’d closed the door behind her and pressed her against it, holding her there with his hard body. The room was dim, the only light the fire in the grate, but she could feel his blue eyes burning as he stared down at her.
“In case Martha decides to pay another early morning visit.” He reached behind her to turn the lock on the door.
She slid her arms around his waist and trailed her fingertips down his back, over his shirt. “I’ll be gone before Martha wakes up.”
He’d been dropping heated kisses over her throat and neck, but now he paused and pulled back to look at her. “So early? But that only gives us a few hours.”
She pulled his shirt loose from the waist of his breeches and returned to his back, stroking his bare skin this time. “Then you’d better hurry, hadn’t you?”
“Hurry?” He drew in a sharp breath as she ran her nails lightly over the arch of his back. “Oh, no—I don’t think so, love. I plan to linger over every morsel, savor every bite until my sweet tooth is satisfied. Where shall I start?”
Thea stared up at him, hypnotized by his low, husky voice and the way his chest heaved with his quick, hard breaths. Dear God, he looked ready to devour her. “I—”
“Here?” He loosened the buttons at the back of her gown and pressed his open mouth to her bare throat.
Thea couldn’t answer, but she gripped his hair with her fingers to hold him to her, and let her head fall back against the door to offer her neck.
His breath left his lungs in a rush. “Or here? Is it sweeter here?” He nipped his way down her neck, then tugged her dress to her waist and buried his face between her breasts.
A cry left her lips when he opened his mouth to suck at her skin though the thin muslin of her shift. “Ethan—”
She broke off with a moan. Dear God, he was licking her.
“Tell me where you’re sweetest, Thea.” He was groaning, his mouth becoming more and more desperate as his tongue moved over her skin, tasting her. “Is it here?” Before she could say a word, he dropped to his knees in front of her and slid his hands under her skirts.
Thea gasped as his palms caressed her, from her ankles to her calves, and behind her knees. She stiffened when he went higher still, pushing gently on the inside of her thighs to urge them open. “Ethan?”
“Shhh, sweetheart. I would never hurt you. You know that, don’t you?” He looked up at her, stroking up and down her thighs while he waited for her reply.
Thea looked down at him, and heat rushed into her lower belly at the hungry look in his eyes. Whatever he wanted, she was nervous about it and desperate for it at once. She bit her lip, her gaze on his, and nodded.
His eyes slid closed for a brief moment, and when he opened them again, he looked almost wild. “Lean back against the door. Rest your weight on it—yes, like that. Now put your hands on my shoulders.”
She did as he asked, and when she was ready he gave her a look so scorching it made her entire body tremble.
“I can’t . . . I can’t wait.” His voice was shaking. “I want to taste you so badly.”
Thea’s fingers tightened on his shoulders. Taste her?
His head disappeared under her skirts, and in the next breath Thea felt his mouth, hot and open and wet against her stomach. She cried out—his name, she thought—but the words died on her lips when his mouth moved lower, over the gentle swell of her belly to the tops of her thighs. He murmured to her as he kissed her, soothing her, his voice soft, the words disjointed, just sounds, really, sighs and moans of pleasure, and—
Thea gasped as he wrapped his hands around the backs of her thighs and lifted her legs over his shoulders. “Ethan! What are you—?”
She got no further, because his hot mouth settled between her legs and his tongue stroked over her center, lingering on the tiny bud that throbbed with need.
Her head fell back against the door, and any protest she might have thought to utter dissolved in a breathless moan. “Oh, I—Ethan . . . oh.”
“Jesus, Thea.” He was gripping her thighs, holding her legs open. “So beautiful and sweet. You’re drenched in honey.”
He dragged his tongue over her center, one long sweep after another as if he were desperate to get more of her taste, and Thea held onto him for dear life, squirming against the door as she tried to get closer to his mouth. “Ethan, it feels . . . please.”
He spread her legs wider, pressed his mouth harder against her, and darted his tongue over that sweet spot between her legs over and over again, caressing and circling, lightly at first, pausing between each stroke to tease her until she was sobbing with need, her hips rising and falling with every tortuous caress until he seemed to go mad himself. He tightened his grip on her hips and sucked hard at her, groaning against her damp flesh, urging her on. The tension between her thighs climbed and climbed until at last Thea’s legs went stiff and her back bowed as pleasure crashed over her in one wave after another, leaving her body limp in its wake.
Ethan stayed with her as she squirmed against his mouth, his strokes becoming slower and gentler until they were just soft brushes of his lips. He kissed her thighs and stomach when she sagged against the door, then steadied her legs on the floor, came out from under her skirt and rose to his feet.
She looked into his eyes, dazed, and he smiled down at her. “You are sweetest there, just as I knew you’d be.”
“I’ve never felt . . . I didn’t think . . .”
She shook her head, unable to put into words what she wanted to say. Since their first kiss all those years ago, she’d thought about Ethan again and again, and wondered what it would be like to kiss him—not another sweet, girlish kiss, but a woman’s kiss. She’d thought about what it would be like to touch him, to lie with him in his bed, but she’d never imagined he could give her so much pleasure.
He laughed softly as he unfastened the rest of her buttons. “We’ve just begun, sweetheart.” He gathered her into his arms and carried her to his bed in her shift, leaving her gown in a heap on the floor by the door. “And I want to show you everything.”
He lay her down and stretched out beside her, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to do more than simply look at her. He pulled the pins from her hair, spread it across his pillow and ran his fingers through the long curls, his eyes following every play of the light on the
dark strands. “You have red in your hair.” He grinned down at her. “I suppose it makes sense. You do have a quick temper.”
Thea smiled back and edged closer to him, expecting every moment he’d take her into his arms and show her the “everything” he’d promised, but he continued his leisurely play. He stroked a finger across her cheekbone and then down her throat to her neck, smiling a little as his touch left a flush in its wake. “Your skin has always driven me mad. Did you know that?”
“No. That is, I suspected I drove you mad, but I thought it was because of my sharp tongue, not my skin.”
“Oh, make no mistake about it—your tongue drives me mad, too.” He traced her lips, his eyes going hot and dark when she darted her tongue at his stroking fingers.
He wanted her. Thea didn’t know much about a man’s desire, but she knew enough to know the hard column of flesh straining against the front of his breeches meant he desperately needed release. And yet he made no move to take her, but seemed content to just lie with her and touch her.
He was tracing the skin at the edge of her shift when Thea decided to take matters into her own hands. “Ethan?”
“Hmmm?”
“Aren’t we going to . . . that is, I thought you wanted to . . .”
Her face heated, and a wicked half-smile crossed his lips. “Yes? Going to what?”
Thea bit her lip. How to put this? “I thought you might like to . . . well, at the very least, take off your breeches.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “I know what you’re up to, Miss Sheridan.”
Well, she should hope so. “Up to? Whatever do you mean? I just want to—”
“You want to have another look at my bottom.”
She laughed, startled. “Among other things, yes. That is, it would be a start.”
His eyes widened as if he were shocked, but his lips twitched. “Are you saying, Miss Sheridan, you want to have a look at my cock?”
Thea opened her mouth, then closed it. His cock? My goodness. But wasn’t she meant to do more than look at it?
She gestured vaguely at his pelvis. “Well, isn’t it . . . that is, it’s in quite a state.”
“A state? If you mean it’s harder than a fireplace poker, then yes, I’d have to agree with you.”
Hard, and growing harder by the minute as her gaze lingered on it. “Aren’t you supposed to do something with it when it’s like that?”
“Something?” He grinned down at her, his eyes dancing. “What do you suggest?”
Thea blew out a breath, exasperated by his teasing. “Don’t you want me, Ethan?”
His gazed down at her, and Thea caught her breath as his smile melted into a look of infinite tenderness. “I do want you, so much, sweetheart. Never doubt that. But as much as I want you, I wouldn’t take you if I also didn’t . . .” He trailed off, swallowed. “If I also didn’t love you, Thea.”
Thea went still, every limb frozen as she tried to understand what he was saying. Did he mean he wouldn’t make love to her tonight because he didn’t love her, or—
“I’m not going to close Cleves Court. I love you, Thea, and I’m not leaving here, ever. Not without you.”
Thea’s breath stopped.
A thousand different emotions flooded her at once, a rush of joy and love so intense it left her dizzy. She wanted to tell him she loved him, too—with all her heart—but she couldn’t speak. She could only gaze silently up at him, her heart turning over in her chest at the softness in his blue eyes.
Ethan’s own gaze grew anxious as the seconds ticked away without her saying a word. “I hope you’ll agree to go to London every now and then—not to escape Cleves Court,” he added quickly, looking awkward, “but because I’d like to show London to you.” He rushed on, as if to fill the silence. “I think you’ll like it, or parts of it, at least, and I have some friends I’d like you to meet, and—”
She touched her fingers to his lips to quiet him. “I love you too, Ethan. I’ve always loved you, ever since I was a girl. I never stopped.”
He fell silent, his blue gaze holding hers, then he gathered her hands in his and raised them to his lips. “Even when I demanded fresh apple tarts every hour, you didn’t stop?”
“Even then.” She grinned up at him. “I may have considered drowning you in your wash basin, but I never stopped loving you.”
He let out a husky laugh, and took her lips in a hard kiss. When he raised his head, he was grinning back at her. “Did you love me even when I threw the teapot?”
“Yes, even then, though you deserved to be thrashed. Shall I punish you now?” She brought his mouth to hers and nipped at his lower lip.
A low growl rose from his chest. “Punish me more.” He opened his mouth over hers, his hot tongue darting at the seam of her lips until she opened for him. When he pulled away, they were both gasping. He traced a finger around her swollen lips. “When did you first realize you loved me?”
“Hmmm.” She pretended to consider it, then, “The first time I saw your bare bottom. Yes, I feel certain that was the very day I fell in love with you.”
He laughed, but after a moment his smile faded. “I haven’t escaped my ghosts yet, Thea, and I may never escape them. I’m not nearly good enough for you—”
“Don’t ever say such a thing again.” She leaned forward to press her mouth to his chest, against the warm skin over his heart. “Inside, you’re who you’ve ever been. Not Lord Devon, not the earl, but Ethan. I loved you when you were a boy, and I love you now, as a man, for all the same reasons.”
He took her into his arms then, and buried his face in her neck. They stayed that way for a long time, whispering to each other, his hands tangled in her hair, but at last Thea pulled away.
“I’m wondering about something you said, Ethan.”
He twirled a lock of her long hair between his fingers. “What’s that, sweetheart?”
“Well, it’s just . . . you said you wouldn’t make love to me unless you were also in love with me.”
“I did say that, yes.” His eyes gleamed, and a corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.
Oh, he was a very devil, with those teasing blue eyes of his. “But then you said . . . you told me you are in love with me.”
“Desperately in love, yes.”
“Then . . .” Thea hesitated for a moment, but she wanted to touch him—had wanted to touch him for forever, it seemed. She slipped her hand into the opening at the neck of his shirt and let her palm caress his shoulder before she dragged her hand down the center of his chest. “Then will you make love to me now?”
His eyes went dark, and he sat up on the bed, pulled his shirt over his head, and then lay back down beside her.
“Oh, my. You’re so . . .”
Beautiful.
It wasn’t a word often used to describe a man, but as Thea ran her greedy gaze over his sculpted shoulders, hard chest and taut belly, it was the only word she could think of that did him justice. “Such smooth skin,” she murmured, her voice full of wonder. She raked her fingers though the hair on his chest, then moved lower, amazed at the way the muscles in his stomach leapt under her palm.
“Wait.” Ethan wrapped his fingers around her wrist, moved her hand away from his body, and sat up in the bed.
Thea came up on her elbows beside him, suddenly anxious. Wasn’t she meant to touch him? She wanted to, more than anything, but perhaps a lady wasn’t supposed to be so forward. “I—don’t you want me to touch you?”
Ethan tugged off his boots. “God yes, but I want you to touch all of me.” He lay back down beside her, took her hands in his, and brought them to the buttons at the waist of his breeches. “Unfasten them.”
He helped her, his hands over hers, his gaze never leaving her face as her clumsy fingers fumbled the buttons loose one by one. At last she managed to lower his falls and
spread the material to either side of his slim hips.
Thea let out a soft gasp. He was . . . magnificent.
Long and hard, his skin smooth and flushed at the tip, proudly erect. She’d felt him pressed against her belly and knew he was aroused, but she’d never imagined he’d be so . . .
Thea’s lips parted.
Mouthwatering.
His breath quickened as she stared down at him. “Take off my breeches, Thea.”
Her gaze darted to his, then back down to the impressive sight before her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.
Ethan took her hand again and helped her curl her fingers over the top edge of the breeches. “Take them off.” He arched up off the bed, and she tugged his breeches over his hips and down his long legs.
“Touch me.” His voice was low and strained as he lay back against the pillows, waiting for her.
Thea bit her lip, hesitating. Dear God, where did she start? Everywhere she looked there was sleek, tawny skin poured over hard muscle, intriguing dark hair, both on his chest and in a thin line low on his stomach, and everything about him was long and hard and so, so male—
Ethan reached out, took her hand, and pressed it against his cock. “Touch me.”
Both of them gasped when her palm met his hot skin. Ethan’s eyes slid closed as he tightened his hand over hers and began to stroke. Thea watched, fascinated, as he moved their hands up and down over his hard flesh, her breath catching in her throat when a harsh gasp rumbled from his chest. One hand fisted in the bedclothes and his hips began to move as she continued to stroke him with his hand over hers, and she watched, mesmerized by the way her touch seemed to make him lose all control, until he was groaning and writhing on the bed.
Oh God, he was so beautiful, she wanted to watch him all night.
But after another few strokes Ethan tightened his hand over hers, stilling her. “This is what you do to me. Feel me.” He slid her hand up his length and touched her fingertips to a patch of dampness on his belly, then dragged the tip of his cock over her palm, leaving a sheen of wetness there, too.
