When his hand shifted slowly upward to cup her breast, her pulse spiked. His palm molded to the curve of her breast, massaging gently in a slow, languid motion that was unbelievably sensual.
She ought to stop his caresses, Venetia knew. She had no business indulging in fantasies when she desperately needed to keep her defenses strong. But she didn’t want this wonderful intimacy to end. Not just yet.
Heat swelled inside her as he discovered her nipple beneath her bodice. His long fingers gently squeezed the peak, making her arch reflexively into his palm.
He must have taken that as an invitation to proceed, for soon his hand glided downward, sliding over her rib cage, his fingers burning her thigh….
“Traherne…” she murmured.
“My name is Quinn, love,” he urged, his voice rusty and low.
She couldn’t reply, not when this breathless languor had overtaken her and sapped all her willpower. Her body tingled, while her feminine center throbbed with warm yearning. His touch was magical, his strong fingers stroking delicately over her bare skin where the skirt of her nightdress had ridden up.
Her eyes remained closed as she rode a dreamy wave of pleasure. When he raised the hem farther and covered the soft mound of hair at the juncture of her thighs, she gave a shuddering exhalation and grasped at his forearm to stay him.
Despite her response, though, his fingers went on sliding over her already slick flesh, probing her moist secrets with a deliberate pressure. At the same time his knee pushed hers apart from behind, exposing her further to his caresses.
Venetia abandoned any thought of protest. Instead, her senses feasted on the shivering sensations he was stirring in her. She forgot everything else but the erotic feel of his ministrations, forgot even how to breathe. Her body quivered, pleasure racing through her veins.
Then he slipped one finger inside her cleft and fire sparked in her. Venetia gasped softly as another shudder rippled through her limbs.
A second finger joined the first, opening her a little wider. The feeling of his penetration was indescribably glorious. She felt herself melting.
His thumb rubbed the nub of her sex in a repetitive glide while his finger teased her, moving in and out, lingering and withdrawing from her weeping flesh. Of their own volition, her hips strained wantonly to get closer as the coiling tension grew. The gossamer friction was a delectable torture. Her fingers clutched at his arm as her body grew tighter, hotter. The pleasure built and built with his gentle thrusts.
Her hands fisted in the covers and she heard her own shallow, ragged pants as he brought her to the peak of arousal. Suddenly, she could bear it no longer.
Venetia gave a soft cry and shattered. For a dozen heartbeats she shook and pulsed with sweet spasms.
His attentions left her weak and dazed for a long while. The soft caress of his breath stirred wisps of hair at her temple as she lay cradled in his a
rms, wondering at the novelty of passion.
His voice was low, intimate, when he finally spoke. “Did you find that pleasurable, sweeting?”
She couldn’t utter a denial for it would be a lie. The explosive fire had been exquisite, better than she could ever have imagined.
“You know I did,” Venetia eventually managed to say, her voice a hoarse rasp.
“There is far more I want to show you.”
“That would be extremely unwise.”
With a light touch on her shoulder, Traherne rolled her toward him, so that she lay on her back, gazing up at him. “Not at all.”
He stroked her cheek with a finger. In the pale morning light, with his gold hair ruffled and a shadow of stubble roughening his jaw, he looked very male and oh, so sensual.
His eyes had darkened to sea blue. She saw lust there and desire and unmistakable need. His palm cradled her face with infinite tenderness.
“Kiss me, sweet Venetia…”
She wanted desperately to obey. Venetia watched, spellbound, as he bent toward her.
His breath fanned warm against her lips before his mouth settled on hers. Another heated rush of feeling assaulted her. His kiss was languid but took her breath away.
She tangled her fingers in his gilded hair as his teeth nipped at her lips. When he increased the pressure and kissed her more deeply, she opened to his exploration. His tongue penetrated her lips in an intimate invasion, meeting hers, playing in a leisurely dance, coaxing, enchanting her again. She was thoroughly bewitched when, to her surprise, his mouth left hers.
However, his attentions had only moved lower, his lips brushing over the column of her throat, her bare collarbone, the cambric covering her breasts, her belly…as if driven to explore further.