Tempt Me at Twilight (The Hathaways #3)(85)

It occurred to Harry that the Hathaways were making a solid success of the estate not in spite of their lack of aristocratic heritage, but because of it. No traditions or habits had been passed on to them. There had been no one to protest “but this is how we’ve always done it.” As a result, they approached estate management as both a business and a scientific undertaking, because they knew no other way to proceed.

Leo showed Harry the estate timber yard, where the backbreaking work of cutting, hauling, and ad-sizing logs was all done by hand. Massive logs were carried on shoulders or with lug hooks, creating countless opportunities for injury.

After supper that evening, Harry sketched some plans for moving timber with a system of rollers, run planks, and dollies. The system could be constructed at a relatively low expense, and it would allow for faster production and greater safety for the estate laborers. Merripen and Leo were both immediately receptive to the idea.

“It was very kind of you to draw up those schemes,” Poppy told Harry later, when they had gone to the caretaker’s house for the night. “Merripen was very appreciative.”

Harry shrugged casually, unfastening the back of her gown and helping to draw her arms from the sleeves. “I merely pointed out a few obvious improvements they could make.”

“Things that are obvious to you,” she said, “aren’t necessarily obvious to the rest of us. It was very clever of you, Harry.” Stepping out of the gown, Poppy turned to face him with a satisfied smile. “I’m very glad my family is getting the chance to know you. They’re beginning to like you. You’re being very charming, and not at all condescending, and you don’t make a fuss about things like finding a hedgehog in your chair.”

“I’m not fool enough to compete with Medusa for chair space,” he said, and she laughed. “I like your family,” he said, unhooking the front of her corset, gradually freeing her from the web of cloth and stays. “Seeing you with them helps me to understand you better.”

The corset made a soft thwack as he tossed it to the floor. Poppy stood before him in her chemise and drawers, flushing as he studied her intently.

An uncertain smile crossed her face. “What do you understand about me?”

Harry hooked a gentle finger beneath the strap of her chemise, easing it downward. “That it’s your nature to form close attachments to the people around you.” He moved his palm over the curve of her bared shoulder in a circling caress. “That you are sensitive, and devoted to those you love, and most of all . . . that you need to feel safe.” He eased the other strap of her chemise down, and felt the shivers that chased through her body. He drew her against him, his arms closing around her, and she molded to him with a sigh.

After a while, he murmured softly into the pale, fragrant curve of her neck. “I’m going to make love to you all night, Poppy. And the first time, you’re going to feel very safe. But the second time, I’m going to be a little bit wicked . . . and you’ll like that even more. And the third time—” he paused with a smile as he heard her breath catch. “The third time, I’m going to do things that will mortify you when you remember them tomorrow.” He kissed her gently. “And you’ll love that most of all.”

Poppy couldn’t quite fathom Harry’s mood, devilish yet tender as he finished undressing her. He laid her back on the mattress with her legs dangling, and stood between them as he leisurely removed his shirt. As his gaze traveled over her, she blushed and tried to cover herself with her arms.

Flashing a grin, Harry bent over her, pulling her hands away. “Love, if you only knew what pleasure it gives me to look at you . . .” He kissed her lips, teasing them open, his tongue slipping inside the warm interior of her mouth. The hair on his chest brushed over the tips of her br**sts, a sweet and ceaseless stimulation that drew a moan from low in her throat.

His lips wandered along the arch of her throat to her br**sts. Capturing a nipple, he stroked with his tongue, making it taut and stingingly sensitive. At the same time, his hand went to her other breast, his thumb circling and prodding the peak.

She strained upward, her body trembling and flushed. His hands drifted over her in light paths, across her stomach, lower, down to the place where a sweet erotic ache had centered. Finding the humid, delicately layered flesh, he teased her with his thumbs, opened her, making her ready for him.

Her knees drew up, and she reached for him with an incoherent sound, trying to draw him over her. Instead, he sank to his knees and gripped her hips, and she felt his mouth on her.

She quivered beneath the gentle articulation of his tongue, every intricate movement provoking, tormenting, until her eyes fluttered closed and she began to breathe in wrenching sighs. His tongue entered her and lingered for an excruciating moment. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, Harry.”

She felt him stand, heard the rustle of trousers and linens being dropped. There was hot, gentle pressure at the entrance of her body, and she made a shuddering sound of relief. He pushed inside as deeply as she could accept him, a deliciously substantial invasion. She was stretched, utterly filled, and she worked her h*ps against him, trying to take even more. A slow rhythm began, his body pressing hers at just the right angle, driving the pitch of feeling higher with each luscious ingress.

Her eyes flew open as the accumulated sensation rolled up to her, relentless in its strength and velocity, and she saw his sweat-misted face above hers. He was watching her, savoring her pleasure, bending to take her helpless cries into his mouth.