The Unlikely Lady (Playful Brides #3)(57)

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she breathed.

*

That was all Garrett needed to hear. He pulled Jane’s arms above her head and wrapped the cravat around them, securing them at the wrist. Then he wove the top of the material around the settee’s open wooden arm. He made a tight knot. He’d never been so thankful for his army training before. He might not be a sailor, but damned if this knot wasn’t good enough for his purposes.

Jane’s eyes sparkled, but a hint of apprehension lurked in them. He didn’t want her to have any doubts.

He kissed her temple. “If you want me to stop, just say so.”

“It depends,” she breathed, her gorgeous chest rising and falling. Garrett couldn’t look away. He wanted her naked and writhing beneath him. But tonight he’d settle for caressing those gorgeous breasts.

“On what?” he answered, his voice muffled as he kissed the tops of both.

“On what you intend to do with me.”

His mouth met hers again in a fierce tangle. Then he pulled away and his gruff voice sounded in her ear. “I intend to make you come.”

Jane closed her eyes. “You … you do?”

“Yes. Do you know what that means?”

All she could do was nod. “I’ve…” She bit her lip. “I’m very well read.” She turned to the side.

“Let me assure you,” he said, as his fingers made quick work of the buttons on the back of her gown. “This is one thing that’s much better to experience than to read about.”

Jane twisted to help him unbutton the gown. He pulled it down to her waist. Her stays and chemise were all that remained between the two of them. “I’m quite sorry for this,” he said, just before he pulled something from his boot.

“For wh—”

The quick flash of a blade before her eyes told Jane he had a knife. He sliced her stays down the middle in one quick maneuver. She sucked in her breath, hard. How had he done that so quickly and effortlessly? Were rakes trained in this manner? Impressive, to be sure.

Still bracing himself on one elbow, he peeled away the remnants of the stays and then slowly, so excruciatingly slowly, he cut the straps of her chemise, first off one shoulder, then the other. His finger traced the line of the fabric where it hovered just over the tips of her nipples. She shuddered.

“Garrett, please.”

The knife dropped to the carpet with a soft thud. His hot mouth fell to the exposed skin above the shift. “That’s right. Say my name. Beg me.”

*

Jane closed her eyes and arched into his hot mouth. This was the most erotic thing that had ever happened to her. Not that bluestocking spinsters had much occasion for erotic things to happen to them, but suffice it to say she was glad she’d asked this man to meet her in the upstairs drawing room tonight.

“Garrett, please,” she whimpered, closing her eyes, feeling every touch, every kiss, every lick with every bit of her soul.

His lips moved lower, nudging the fabric away from her breast. Jane gasped. His wet mouth covered her nipple and … sucked. Oh, God. Yes! She clenched her jaw and twisted her head to the side. The pleasure was exquisite. So good. So, so good.

His mouth and teeth tugged at her while his hand came up to play with the other peak of her breast through the fabric of her shift. Somehow the soft scratch of the fabric with his thumb flicking back and forth made her mad with wanting. “Please,” she begged.

“Please what?” he murmured against her scorching skin.

“My other breast.”

His smile burned against her. “What do you want, Jane?” He moved his mouth an inch, two. “Do you want my mouth here?” He flicked his thumb against her sensitive nipple again.

“Yes. Please. Now.” She tugged at the bonds that held her hands above her head. He gave her what she wanted. His mouth scorched across her nipple and Jane closed her eyes and moaned.

Why was this so incredible? Who knew that being trussed up like a hare while the most handsome man in the world did amazingly sensual things to your body was this much fun? None of her books had taught her that.

But she wanted to touch him, wanted to run her fingers through his dark hair, pull his mouth up to hers, wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, kiss him again.

His mouth tugged again and again on her breast. His thumb flicked achingly back and forth against her other nipple. She moaned again and strained against the bonds.

“Easy,” he said hotly against the soft flesh of her breast. “We’ve barely got started yet.”

Her breath left her body in a whoosh. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “Barely even—” Her breath was a rush of heat and lust.

“That’s right.” His grin was positively wicked.

One hand left her breast while his hot, wet mouth still tugged at the other.

She shuddered as his free hand moved down, down, down, outlining her legs beneath her silvery skirts. He found the bottom of the fabric and flipped it up, his hand moving slowly back up her leg, along her stockings, only this time it skimmed along the hot skin of her inner thigh.

A tremor racked Jane’s body. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. He was going to touch her. There.

His hand slowed as it made its way unerringly toward the juncture between her thighs.

She tugged against her bonds again, but it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t have stopped him even if she could have. It was delicious torture to be unable to touch him. Instead, she mentally begged him to find just the right spot.