He was the sweetest thing she’d had in her life in a longtime. And she wanted more of him. Maybe it was the playacting of the last couple of days, but she wanted to know this man, to love him like a real husband. She glided her hands across his ribs, then up over the soft smattering of hair covering his chest, feeling the stampede of his heart. He was so alive and strong. She wanted his strength, and in return she would give him her softness, something she sensed he needed even if he never would admit it.
His hands drifted up her back and into her hair. His fingers entwined in her curls, guiding her head back. Sliding his tongue deeper into her mouth, he took over the kiss. He leaned into her as he tightened the arm wrapped around her waist. Rapidly he was becoming the aggressor, but she wasn’t afraid. Not like she had been with Berkley. But Berkley had been a gentleman up until the time he had gotten her alone in his carriage on a deserted country road. From Braddock she’d expected nothing but fierceness and been moved by his kindness.
She pulled her mouth away from his and nipped his ear. “Is this what you were afraid of, Christopher?”
His hands slid down her back and cupped her bottom. He pulled her into the crook of his thighs. The heat radiating through his clothes rivaled the burn on his skin. “What are you doing, Lorelei?”
But he didn’t give her a chance to answer. He nipped at the skin over her collarbone, then kissed her breast through the white cotton of her shirt.
The cloth between them intoxicated and frustrated her. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, gripping his shoulders for support. She didn’t know what she was doing. Her mind no longer had control over her body. From the moment he’d ridden onto Corey’s desolate homestead, Braddock had summoned desire, unwanted and forgotten, within her even as her own arousal shamed her. But since then so much had happened, she didn’t know why feeling so good should be wrong. What did it matter if they enjoyed each other? There was so little of it going around.
“I want to take you to bed,” he said from somewhere in a dream.
“Yes.” Her voice sounded different, deeper, like a stranger’s.
He sucked at the cloth covering her breast until it was completely saturated. The wet cotton slowly gave way to the feel of his tongue as he flicked it over her nipple. The jolt left her wanting more. She fumbled for the top button of her blouse.
He encircled her wrist, halting her progress. He moved from the table and guided her near the bed. “I want to undress you.”
The time to stop had come, warned a small voice in her head. The voice reminded her of the woman she had been, the proper lady she thought she was before her world had collapsed around her. She almost wanted to laugh at the old voice’s weakness. She had no intention or inclination to stop. With arms limp at her sides, she stood like a dresser’s doll, eager for him to do what he would. He hesitated at the first button, but she met his stare without blinking.
His gaze dropped to his fingers as he fumbled with the buttons. He had trouble pushing the small, cloth covered balls through their tiny holes. She didn’t feel the need to offer to help. He seemed fascinated with the task, as if undressing her were truly a wonder. Lorelei took a deep breath. Her chest rose and fell against his warm hands. He brushed his knuckles down the thin chemise, the only thing left between him and her bare skin. After an eternity, he opened her white blouse and skimmed it off her shoulders, grazing her bare skin wherever possible. Instead of being chilled by her lack of layers, she felt heat rise from her skin in an anxious fever.
When he reached for her homespun calico skirt he stopped, looking for how the garment was attached. She took his hands in hers and guided him to the tape hidden in the folds. With one quick pull, the top skirt fell to the floor. Her knee length chemise and one petticoat were all that remained of her modesty. She knew she should be embarrassed, but all she felt was urgency. Her usual layers would have made this process excruciating. Her skin already jumped with anticipation.
He rubbed his palms up her arms and over her shoulders, then back down again, pressing over her ribs and down her hips. Her body coiled into a knot of wanting at his touch. The secret place between her legs pulsed with a desire she had always been ashamed of until now. At this moment she wanted to follow that impulse wherever it led.
His hands returned to the waistband of her one petticoat, and he didn’t hesitate this time but went right to the tie and pulled it. The white cotton undergarment pooled around the discarded skirt. He lifted her from the pile of her clothing and swung her nearer the bed. His heart hammered against her chest and his breath came warm and ragged against her neck. He dipped his head and kissed her deeply, with more intensity and hunger than ever before. She returned his onslaught with the same fervor.