She bit down on her bottom lip. “I am not entirely inexperienced, Roman.”
Roman eyed her for several moments, weighing up this new knowledge. Did she realize what she was doing to his self-control?
Hell, who was he kidding? He’d lost that the moment he first kissed her. Maybe even the second he’d touched her.
Or perhaps he’d been on this path from their very first angry words to one another.
“And by that you mean…?”
He held his breath as he awaited her answer.
“I made love to a man. Once.” Her pulse flickered at the base of her neck, and she stared at his bare chest.
“To Archie?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
Jealousy was a ridiculous emotion. He hated it. It drove people to live in ways they did not even wish to, to fight like his stepcousins over money and property. He’d be lying if he did not feel a little jealousy now, though.
“I wanted to be certain we were a good match.” She lifted her shoulder slightly. “We were not.”
“I suppose I had better be grateful for your bold actions.” He urged her to look up at him with a finger to her chin. “Had you not done such a thing you might well have wed him and then I’d never have you in my arms.”
“That is true.”
“And wearea good match.” He’d make certain she knew that by the end.
“Oh, I have no doubt.” She pressed palms to his chest and urged him back then turned. She flicked a glance over her shoulder. “Undo my laces.”
As he did as he was bid, his fingers shook. Tempted to mutter enough curse words to turn the air blue, he finally parted the fabric and pushed it down her shoulders. She turned and slid out of her gown before shimmying out of the delicate shift and letting it all pool at her feet.
His mouth dried. Her stays emphasized the curve of her waist and the rise of her breasts and white stockings led his gaze up shapely legs toward her juncture.
“Are you going to stand there all day?”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, I am not.”
He moved swiftly, sweeping one arm about her waist and lifting her feet off the floor to move her to the bed. He threw her down in one swift move, making the bed ropes creak in protest.
Roman laid the flat of his palm against the juncture of her thighs, pressing but remaining still. Clementine ground against it and moaned. She was wet and the scent of sex permeated the air. He barely held back a possessive growl at the sight of this woman laid out all for him.
He dipped a finger into her slippery heat, a light teasing touch, and she bit down on her bottom lip as he traced her folds, his gaze never leaving hers.
“Roman!” she cried. “Please!”
He chuckled and pressed deeply into her, her hips lifting from the bed, her eyelids fluttering shut. He lingered only moments more but before she could protest at the absence of his hand, he parted her legs and began kissing up the delicate skin of her thighs.
Clementine’s eyes flew open as she watched his head move closer to her juncture. Then as his tongue touched her sex, she relaxed and gave herself up to him. Roman swept over her responsive center, luxuriating in the taste of her, teasing before taking her soft flesh between his teeth.
Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips moved in time with his licks and sucks. Her legs curled around his head and tension rippled through her, but he kept hold of her hips, forcing her to accept the onslaught of his tongue. It dipped in again and ruthlessly sucked at her until she came apart on a cry, her legs tensing about his head.
As she gathered her breath, Roman rose and stretched out alongside her. “You are even more lovely when you come, Musgrave.”
Clementine laughed slightly and touched his smile. “Even in bed you would call me that?”
“It suits you. It’s what you are.”
“That is true. A scandalous, scandalous Musgrave.”