Luck Is No Lady(84)

The kiss was fierce but over too quickly.

He pulled back, his eyes blazing with the need consuming them both. Dropping his hands to his sides, he took an unsteady step back.

Fear that he had changed his mind raced through her. She could not allow it.

With her eyes locked on his, she lifted her hands to his cravat.

He stood stock-still as she unwound the neckcloth from its intricate folds and drew it from around his neck to drop it on the floor. Then she reached for his coat. Grasping the lapels, she peeled it back over his shoulders until she could tug it down his arms. That too fell to the floor. His waistcoat was the next to be removed.

Her breath was shallow as she loosened his shirt to expose the muscled expanse of his chest beneath. She couldn’t resist placing her palms flat against the warm surface of his bare skin, sliding her fingertips over the hard curves and angles as she shoved the shirt aside.

He stood stiffly patient, allowing her the delight of discovery, though she sensed the rising tension in his body.

She took her time in a slow exploration of his chest and shoulders before she realized the shirt would have to be lifted over his head to be fully removed. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she tugged the light fabric from the waistband of his breeches. Reaching beneath the hem, she slid her hands up along his sides, feeling the wonderful tension of lean muscle over his rippled abdomen and rib cage. He obediently lifted his arms so she could shove the shirt up over his head. She was forced to step toward him and rise up on her toes to free him completely from the garment.

As his upper torso was fully bared to her view, a tingling rush of delight ran through her blood at the sight. The shirt fell forgotten from her hands as she reached to press her palms to his skin again. Her hands skated over the contours of his chest, shoulders, and arms. She took a tender moment to explore the healing scar on his upper arm before her fingers drifted gently across his low belly. She watched in delight as his muscles clenched beneath her touch.

He was all heat and hardness.

And control.

She didn’t realize just how much he held himself in check while she delighted in her sensual exploration of his body until she glanced back up into his face and saw the tight clench of his teeth and caught his heavy-lidded gaze.

“You have no idea what that does to me,” he muttered gruffly.

Emma licked her dry lips. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I would rather show you.”

She instinctively dropped her gaze to the prominent ridge of his erection visible beneath his fitted breeches. She had sensed his arousal as she explored his bared body, but had not allowed herself to look directly at the evidence of it until that moment. The breath she drew was ragged and deep at the thought of his full desire being exposed to her view.

He laughed, a raw, heated sound. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”

Lifting his hands to her shoulders, he turned her away from him. Then he gathered the length of her hair in one hand and swept it over her shoulder to allow access to the row of tiny buttons down her back. Moments later the dress loosened and he eased it down her body. The satin made barely a sound as it slid over her hips to pool on the floor. She stepped free of the gown, kicking off her heeled slippers. He reached for the ties of her short stays, loosening the confining garment until that too was dropped aside.

She turned to face him again in nothing but her silk stockings and a whisper-thin shift.

His ravenous gaze swept across her breasts, her belly, the length of her legs.

She could feel every bit of his appreciation. Her nipples puckered against the soft cotton of her shift. Her stomach muscles clenched with need. And the hollow between her legs grew damp and aching.

She clenched her bottom lip again between her teeth as she waited for him to touch her, her entire body on fire for the drift of his fingers and the heat of his palm.

With the back of his hand, he swept the mass of her hair back over her shoulder, exposing her further to his view. His fingers trailed gently across her collarbone, then followed the lace trim of her shift to the center of her chest where tiny white ribbons held the neckline secure.

He tugged at the ribbons, drawing them free.

Her breath caught in her throat. Anticipation made her light-headed and weak-kneed.

Hooking a finger under the material at her shoulder, he slowly dragged it down her arm. The cotton caught over the peak of her nipple, and he gave a gentle tug to free it, exposing her left breast to his view.

His hand quickly followed his gaze as he palmed the weight of her breast, lifting it gently for his thumb to brush over her nipple.

The feel of his hand covering her, shaping her, felt decadent and wonderfully wicked. She curved her back into a subtle arch as she tried to press herself more fully into his hand. Heat swirled in her belly, then pooled between her legs, and a groan threatened in the back of her throat. She swayed on her feet.