For The One(112)

“I need help getting this off…” I said.

“I really want it off.”

I laughed a little. “I, um, figured that out. I really want it off, too. As beautiful as it is—”

“It’s not as beautiful as you are,” he said, and then he continued to kiss me, taking an earlobe between his lips, caressing it with his tongue. My eyes rolled back in my head as a sizzle of pleasure zapped down my nerve endings straight to my core, heating everything in its path. Everything ached for him now.

I’d been aching for him for a while, in fact. And hopefully what was about to happen would satisfy that ache.

Slowly, I pulled away from him. It wasn’t easy. It was like walking against a windstorm, with resistance every inch of the way. But the moment he saw that I was turning around, he let me go.

“It’s laces, just like your doublet. Only they’re in the back,” I said, trying to catch my breath, knowing there was no way I could calm my racing heart.

Without a word, he tugged at the laces with abrupt, sharp movements. At first his movements were hurried, but gradually he slowed. Each time he pulled a lace from an eyelet, his hand touched my bare back and I shivered. He caught on quickly, making sure he touched me as he removed the laces.

My eyes drifted closed again and my awareness centered around his breath on my neck. He ran a rough index finger along the exposed part of my spine, seeming to enjoy the shivery reaction his touches evoked from me.

When the lacings were done, and before I could turn back around to face him, he tore off his doublet and pressed his hard chest to my back. “I like making you shiver.”

“It means I really want you.”

He was kissing me at my temple, my ear, my jaw. “I know what it means, Jenna.”

I laughed. Of course he did. “Wil, I want to have sex with you.”

“I know that, too.”

“I hope you want it.”

“You already know that I do.”

“Then why are we still talking?”

He angled his head to capture my mouth with his and I tilted my head back as his kiss deepened. His hands were suddenly inside my dress, sliding around to cup my breasts. When he rubbed his hard, calloused palms across them, I almost shrieked with pleasure right then and there. My sensitive nipples were now taut peaks and he stroked them with his thumbs, as if plucking strings causing vibrations down to my deepest depths. I fell back against him.

This was happening. Finally. And I hadn’t even had a chance to tell him about my feelings. Slowly, I pulled away and turned back to him.

“Can we—?”

But he shook his head and pulled the front of my dress down to my waist. “No more talking,” he said roughly before ducking his head to suck one of my nipples into his mouth. The contact was like fireworks—the good kind, not the kind that made me scream in terror. No, these fireworks were brilliant, scorching, overwhelming.

His mouth and tongue were doing wicked things. I let out a small grunt of surprise when his teeth ever so lightly grazed that sensitive point. I thought it was an accident until, seconds later, he did it again. My back arched, pushing more of my breast into his mouth.

He responded by gently taking my shoulder and gently lowering me to his plush mattress without ever stopping what he was doing. Soon he was lying beside me, still covering my chest with hot, wet kisses. When he shifted, his thigh pinned mine to the bed and my hands gravitated to his hard chest.

And then I knew—just as I’d been suspecting for months—this was going to be so good.





Chapter 30

William

Jenna is making sounds—small sighs and gasps and a few louder moans that increase in volume the more I caress and taste her. And the more she does, the harder I get, until it hurts almost everywhere. I’m so tense, I feel like I’m going to explode.

I want to explode. Inside her. Right now it’s what I want more than anything. Almost more than breathing. It’s like…being hungry and then eating, but never feeling full. The more I taste her, the hungrier I get.

I reach down to pull the rest of her dress from her body and she helps me by lifting her hips from the bed to let me remove it. Her hand is still stroking my chest in the way that I like, with firm, hard strokes instead of that tickling light touch that I can’t stand.

Jenna is not wearing a bra under her corset bodice, but she has a pair of modern women’s underwear on. I’m glad she didn’t go with more period-appropriate underclothing, because these are small, lacy…sexy. They’re low-cut and a pretty shade of lavender that looks gorgeous next to her skin under the silvery light from the moon above my tent. The next time I paint her, she’ll be wearing that shade of lavender. Or nothing at all.