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Exhaling softly, she confessed, “I am telling you this now so that you will understand the inexperience I touch you with.”

He made some strained noise. “You’ll be touching me?”

She pushed her face into his throat and breathed deeply of him. “Oh yes…”

“Fucking hell.”

His raw curse pulled a smile to her lips.

“Theo—”

She pressed three fingers over his mouth. “And I am not foxed.”

He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, and she noted his gloveless fingers trembled. The Duke of Hartford. Trembling. For her. Theo knew it with every part of her. Her heart skipped into an uneven cadence. She turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm. How many lonely nights had she spent longing for a taste of pleasure? Someone to touch her with tenderness, someone to hold and to be held in return? She became aware of a low, warm ache inside, and suddenly the night seemed alive with sound and sensation. The awareness of what she was thinking shook her, and heat blossomed through her entire body.

Theo lowered her head, finding his mouth with her own. She slid her hands through the thick silk of his night-dark hair and caught her mouth with his. Within an instant Theo felt consumed with arousal. She parted her lips, and their tongues met in a sensual slide. He licked along her lips, then inside her mouth with erotic sensuousness, pulling a ragged moan from Theo.

Sebastian rolled with her, placing her beneath his body, bracing above her on one of his elbows. He framed her face with his other hand, kissing her most thoroughly. Theo couldn’t help moaning. She had imagined what bedding entailed many times, but nothing could have prepared her for the sensual reality of being ravished by Sebastian. She breathed slowly and evenly, trying not to allow herself to be entirely consumed with want…with hunger.

Her breasts were swollen, the tips sensitive. There was a strange ache between her thighs. She made a small, strangled sound against his lips when his hand moved down to her throat, his thumb flicking over her fluttering pulse.

He eased from her.

“I am going to undress you.”

Something warm and tender shifted inside her chest. “Yes.”

A shiver worked through her when his thumb dragged along the inside of her thigh, taking her dress up.

“I’ll not remove your stockings and garters.”

The gown was now at her waist. Theo gasped when his fingers found the hot flesh between her thighs. His knuckles brushed over her sex, she whimpered, and he swallowed the sound. They kissed deeply and for unending minutes. She was dazedly aware of him taking the dress up and over her head, of his hands untying her tapes and removing her chemisette while he ravished her lips. His mouth on hers was hard and fierce and urgent and wonderful. Sebastian kissed her repeatedly, worshiping her lips, her cheeks, and her throat.

He eased her back against his jacket, and it was then Theo realized she remained clad in only her stockings. She blushed, grateful the dark hid her reaction. Sebastian pushed to his feet, removed his boots, and then his clothes. She watched him, eager to see any part of him, conscious of the empty feeling lingering inside. The darkness hid him from her, and she could only listen to the rustles as he completely removed his garments. He stepped from the pocket of darkness, and the pale moonlight shone on him.

“You are beautiful,” she whispered.

He was lithe and corded with smooth muscles, full of power and elegance. His cock throbbed, long, thick, and more intimidating to her virginal senses than she would like to admit. He came down to her, Theo’s heart pounded, and her hands trembled as she reached out and touched him, trailing her fingertips over his chest. Sebastian cradled her against his chest. The full contact of his broad chest against hers, the feel of his body and heat completely enveloping her was most incredible. He kissed her thoroughly with his sweet, clever mouth, and she responded with wantonness.

His fingers teased over her belly and down to the space between her thighs where she was hot and damp and throbbing. Two of his fingers stroked deep, sending her senses careening at the dual bite of pain and pleasure. “Sebastian,” she murmured against his lips, clutching his shoulders.

“You are so incredibly tight,” he breathed raggedly. “I’ll need to get you wet…”

“I am ready,” she said, trying to pull him closer.

“Not yet; I need you soaked. So wet my cock will slide in easily.”

His mouth trailed fire over Theo’s skin, the curve of her neck, the slope of her breast, the soft skin of her stomach. And even lower. Then he was there, removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue.

He was licking herthere. She felt robbed of air. “Sebastian?”

He sucked carnally at the nerve-rich nub of flesh. Theo slapped a hand over her mouth to silence the scream. Despite the coolness of the night air, Theo burned, sweat dampening her body. Another lick…a nibble, and Theo went breathless, the flash of fire in her belly arching her hips off the grass. Arrows of exquisite sensation shot through her at every lick, and kiss against her sex. She hadn’t known this was possible, that such pleasure could be had. Pressure built in sharp spikes, and she instinctively reached down and thrust her fingers through his hair. Her thighs trembled, and her breathing labored. She lost count of the number of times he brought her to pleasure with his wicked tongue.

Tiny moans and whimpers, raw, needy sounds of lust escaped her when he pushed first one, then two, then a third finger into her wet, aching sheath, stretching her sex, filling her, readying her for his penetration. There was pain…but also a deep, unfathomable pleasure as he worked his fingers in and out, deeply, and slowly until she writhed under his sensual assault.

He released her from the tormenting pleasure of his mouth and rose above her. She widened her legs, cradling his weight between her thighs. He fitted perfectly. Theo could feel the fine tremors of his body where his chest pressed against hers.

“Your mouth…your quim…your body is one to savor,” he murmured, reaching between them to fit his cock against her softness.


Tags: Alyssa Clarke Historical