“No, I’ll unhook it from the front.” She turned to face him, as her shaking hands unfastened her plain corset and dropped it to the floor.
Hugh looked like a man on the edge of disintegration. How she loved that what happened between them was so important to him. She watched hungrily as he tugged his shirt over his head and sent it flying into the corner. That magnificent chest was just as breathtaking as she remembered from last night.
This time, she didn’t have to hold back from touching him. She ran seeking hands down those ridges of hard muscle. His trousers didn’t do much to hide the hardest part of all. The way he responded to her had once been terrifying. No longer.
He caught her by the waist, grabbing handfuls of linen shift, and hauled her closer until her breasts met his chest. She stroked his powerful back, feeling the subtle shift of muscle under her palms. More ruthless kisses that left her shaking with excitement. The heat of his mouth, his blatant need, made the blood pound between her legs. Dark, irresistible desire churned in her belly, as her body turned hot and liquid.
On their wedding night, she’d started to feel like this, as though she lost her footing in a raging sea. It had scared her into running away. She’d felt like this when he’d touched her in the carriage, and she’d discovered that these intoxicating responses were the gateway to blazing sensation.
Tonight instead of recoiling from the flames, she flung herself forward, seeking immolation.
With a groan, Hugh tore his lips from hers and scraped his teeth down the sensitive skin of her neck. A dizzy, quivery feeling gushed through her, and her knees turned to water.
“Oh,” she gasped, tilting her hips toward his erect rod. He groaned again and bit her neck. The faint sting sharpened her arousal. As her body convulsed, she dug her fingernails into his back.
He rubbed her loose shift up and down her bottom, creating a teasing friction. Then he edged a few inches away and tugged the shift over her head. That left her wearing filmy white drawers, black satin shoes, and white stockings gartered at the knee. She wasn’t naked, quite, but she felt like she was.
Hugh’s eyes flared as they focused on her breasts. Her nipples, already tight and aching, hardened to the brink of pain. Her hands fluttered toward her chest, before she deliberately forced them back to her sides. It took courage to face him without concealment, but she refused to be frightened. Fear had already stolen too much time.
His gaze lifted to meet hers. What she found there moved her to the depths of her soul. His expression held endless wonder.
“You’re a goddess, Jane.” The awe in his voice clutched at her heart. “I’ve wanted to see you like this for so long.” The humor she loved creased the skin around his eyes. “Or perhaps more like this.”
Trembling, she waited for him to touch her breasts, but instead, he drew one pin from her upswept hair, then another. A long tress snaked down over her shoulder to curl over her bare breast.
“Shall I let my hair down?” she asked huskily.
He still looked like he witnessed a miracle. The power she pretended to possess became real power. She might be inexperienced, but with Hugh spellbound in her presence, she was his equal.
“No, let me,” he said gruffly. “I’ve dreamed of your hair.”
He’d dreamed of her? The discovery pierced like a knife. That insistent demand between her legs heightened, made her feel hollow and hungry. Only Hugh could fill her emptiness. Only Hugh could feed her craving.
He undid her hair, taking his time to untangle each lock until the red mane tumbled around her shoulders. The silky drift of hair across her nipples added a new level of sensation. As he took out each pin, he murmured praise. A nonsense litany. Lovely. Beautiful. Pretty. Soft. Shining.
The way he absorbed every detail made her feel precious. She felt like he was the first person who truly saw her. His unwavering concentration on her was extraordinarily powerful. Absurd tears pricked at her eyes. His passion was a mighty force indeed, but this quiet tenderness threatened to shatter her.
When he turned his attention to her breasts, a moan broke from her lips. He stroked and squeezed her until she quivered. “Please…”
A smile hovered about his lips as he cupped her breasts. Through the rising fever, she saw what he was doing. “You’re teasing me, you devil.”
“And myself.” He raised eyes so dark, they were almost black. The desire she saw in his face made her heart somersault. Desire that had built over days of dancing closer, then away, then closer once more.
The dance ended now. Her heart thumped so hard, each beat made her shake. She set her hands on his shoulders and leaned forward. “Kiss me there.”
Another flare of heat in his eyes before he bent his ruffled dark head to take one nipple between his lips. She’d reached such a pitch of arousal that the kiss felt like a whiplash. Heat flashed through her, and a broken cry escaped. She jerked, when he flicked his tongue against the exquisitely sensitive tip, then drew hard.
Feverishly his hands traveled across her back, then shaped her bottom. Her drawers sagged and through the storm of pleasure, she realized he’d untied them. The next time he touched her, he stroked bare skin.
Panting, he raised his head from her breast. Adamant hands curved under her bottom and hitched her off her feet and up, until her mound crushed against him. She shuddered as she met his hot flesh through the fine wool of his trousers.
Jane cried out again, her secret places clenching on absence instead of him. This yearning became torture. He groaned and bumped forward, building her arousal. She grabbed his shoulders and wrapped her legs around him, so the pressure shifted to between her thighs. As her sex jammed into him, a wave of searing pleasure tightened every nerve.
“Please, Hugh…” she begged incoherently.
“Soon,” he groaned and still carrying her, he walked toward the bed. It was only a few feet, but with her curled around him, each step created exquisite torment. By the time he swept back the covers and laid her on the sheets, she was gasping and quaking. He set her down as if she was likely to break with the slightest bump.
Hugh quickly slid her stockings and shoes off, then stepped back to rip off his trousers. When Jane saw him naked, the breath crammed in her throat. He was splendid. Massive and powerful, like some mighty force of nature. She remembered how on their wedding night, she’d thought he looked like Zeus. She hadn’t been far wrong.