Twelfth Night with the Earl (The Sutherland Sisters #3)(34)

Thea wrapped her fingers around his wrists, to . . . what? Pull his hands away from her? Pull him closer? Even as her fingers tightened around him she wasn’t sure which, but then she felt it . . .

His heartbeat, fast and strong against her back, beating in time with hers.

She turned in his arms and stared up at him for a long moment, at the golden, tousled hair falling across his forehead, his blue eyes gleaming under lids gone heavy, at his mouth, his lips, and heat seared her, scorched every part of her body.

She pulled away just far enough to look into his eyes, rested her palm on his cheek to urge his mouth closer to hers, and raised herself to her tiptoes. “I want you, too.”

He went utterly still when she kissed him, as if stunned by the shy touch of her lips against his, but in the next breath a low groan rumbled from his chest, and he clasped her face in his hands and looked down at her as if he never wanted to let her go. He brushed a finger against her lower lip. “Your mouth is so sweet, love.”

She kissed his fingertip, and he took her lips again with another groan. His fingers sank into her hair, holding her still as he kissed her harder, his mouth opening over hers, devouring her.

She wrapped her arms around him and her lips opened under his with a breathless sigh, and then he was kissing her everywhere, her lips and her neck, her throat, and she was panting for him, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling hard.

His hands slid down her back to her waist, squeezing her there before they moved lower to cup her backside and urge her against him. A strangled cry left her lips when she felt him pressed against her, his body hard and urgent. She could feel how much he wanted her, and she wrapped her arms around his waist to pull him closer. “Ethan—”

He tore his lips from hers and set her away from him with gentle hands at her waist. “Not here. Come upstairs with me, sweetheart.”

She looked into his eyes, and without a word she took his hand and led him from the kitchen. He didn’t speak as they mounted the stairs, and not a word passed his lips as she led him down the hall, but his warm hand was wrapped tightly around hers, and she could feel his gaze on the side of her face as she opened the door to his bedchamber.

He followed her inside, and before she could draw a breath he’d closed the door behind her and pressed her against it, holding her there with his hard body. The room was dim, the only light the fire in the grate, but she could feel his blue eyes burning as he stared down at her.

“In case Martha decides to pay another early morning visit.” He reached behind her to turn the lock on the door.

She slid her arms around his waist and trailed her fingertips down his back, over his shirt. “I’ll be gone before Martha wakes up.”

He’d been dropping heated kisses over her throat and neck, but now he paused and pulled back to look at her. “So early? But that only gives us a few hours.”

She pulled his shirt loose from the waist of his breeches and returned to his back, stroking his bare skin this time. “Then you’d better hurry, hadn’t you?”

“Hurry?” He drew in a sharp breath as she ran her nails lightly over the arch of his back. “Oh, no—I don’t think so, love. I plan to linger over every morsel, savor every bite until my sweet tooth is satisfied. Where shall I start?”

Thea stared up at him, hypnotized by his low, husky voice and the way his chest heaved with his quick, hard breaths. Dear God, he looked ready to devour her. “I—”

“Here?” He loosened the buttons at the back of her gown and pressed his open mouth to her bare throat.

Thea couldn’t answer, but she gripped his hair with her fingers to hold him to her, and let her head fall back against the door to offer her neck.

His breath left his lungs in a rush. “Or here? Is it sweeter here?” He nipped his way down her neck, then tugged her dress to her waist and buried his face between her breasts.

A cry left her lips when he opened his mouth to suck at her skin though the thin muslin of her shift. “Ethan—”

She broke off with a moan. Dear God, he was licking her.

“Tell me where you’re sweetest, Thea.” He was groaning, his mouth becoming more and more desperate as his tongue moved over her skin, tasting her. “Is it here?” Before she could say a word, he dropped to his knees in front of her and slid his hands under her skirts.

Thea gasped as his palms caressed her, from her ankles to her calves, and behind her knees. She stiffened when he went higher still, pushing gently on the inside of her thighs to urge them open. “Ethan?”

“Shhh, sweetheart. I would never hurt you. You know that, don’t you?” He looked up at her, stroking up and down her thighs while he waited for her reply.

Thea looked down at him, and heat rushed into her lower belly at the hungry look in his eyes. Whatever he wanted, she was nervous about it and desperate for it at once. She bit her lip, her gaze on his, and nodded.

His eyes slid closed for a brief moment, and when he opened them again, he looked almost wild. “Lean back against the door. Rest your weight on it—yes, like that. Now put your hands on my shoulders.”

She did as he asked, and when she was ready he gave her a look so scorching it made her entire body tremble.

“I can’t . . . I can’t wait.” His voice was shaking. “I want to taste you so badly.”

Thea’s fingers tightened on his shoulders. Taste her?