A person, but also a woman.
She would have cried, but tears might ruin such an incredible moment.
His fingers worked magic over her scalp, even as his mouth trailed down her neck and to her shoulder.
“Perfect.” He growled.
He loosened his hold for a moment and she shivered. But he wasn’t letting go. No, he wasn’t finished kissing her yet.
He dragged his teeth along the edge of her bodice—which was lower than anything she would ever have worn given a choice. Delia arched her back. This other woman she’d become was quickly losing control. Such pleasure as this was so utterly foreign that it was also a little terrifying.
Feelings—wicked sensations—surged from her toes to her heart to between her legs—aching, throbbing, starving feelings. She’d not realized the power of touch. People only touched her when necessary. To steer her—to greet her—and even then, it was usually fleeting and… meaningless.
She felt herself being lifted, carried to the bed. She must be dreaming. Surely she was dreaming.
“This color was made for you.”
Delia opened her eyes to see Jack hovering beside her, not quite over her. She was not dreaming. His gaze was…
Hungry. But more than that.Ravenous.
This was real. This was not a dream. And Delia was very much alive.
What was she doing? What was she allowing him to do?
“You like me?” She asked the question before thinking it through. But why else would he want to kiss her and touch her like this? He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen, even if he was dark rather than fair-haired and blue-eyed as she’d often dreamt a hero should be. He was charming and confident. He possessed charisma—something she’d always lacked.
In her old world, anyhow.
The flames from the hearth flickered over his high cheekbones and chiseled profile. He tilted his head.
“I like you very much.” And then he dipped his head to the nipple he’d exposed, taking it between his teeth. “Do you like this?” he managed to ask.
Oh, yes. But was that something a lady admitted?
“I do.” She would be candid with him. “I didn’t know it could feel so… like this…”
He drew back just enough to stare down at her, looking satisfied.
“Don’t think of it as a chore. I’m going to show you things, Delia.” He was inching the gown up, and in one easy motion, she lay before him in next to nothing. “Hopefully, you’ll show me a thing or two as well.”
Her head was spinning. What did he mean? He wanted her to show him things? What kind of things?
The warmth of his hand skated up her leg, and she clamped her knees together. “What are you doing?” Those wonderful feelings she’d had leading up to this were ebbing away.
Jack paused, staring into her eyes.
“I think you know. Is this part of your game?”
“Game?”
“I don’t want games tonight, Delia. I simply want pleasure.” He trailed his fingertips along her outer thigh.
Delia’s blood, which had been boiling moments before, turned icy. “Pleasure—?” And before she could stop herself, she uttered words she immediately wished back. “But are you in love with me?”
She wished them back because he didn’t need to answer with words. The confused and then horrified expression on his face spoke volumes.
Five