He grinned wolfishly, tugging gently with his teeth. “Like this?”
“Stop!”
He released the fabric and used his hands to push her dress down, revealing one perfect breast. “Like this?”
Her only answer was the quickening of her breath.
“Or like this?” he asked huskily, taking her into his mouth.
Iris let out a keening cry, and her hands sank into his hair.
“Definitely like this,” he murmured, teasing her with his tongue.
“Why do I feel that . . . ?” she whispered helplessly.
He looked up in bemusement and echoed, “Why do you feel it?”
Her flush spread from her cheeks to her neck and down. “Why do I feel it . . . down . . . there?”
Maybe he was a rogue. Maybe he was just very very wicked, but he could only lick his lips and whisper, “Where?”
She shuddered with desire, but did not speak.
He slid her slipper from her foot. “Here?”
She shook her head.
His hand slid up her slender calf to the inside of her knee. “Here?”
“No.”
He smiled to himself. She was enjoying their game, too. “What about”—he brought his fingers higher, resting them at the soft crease between her hip and her thigh—“here?”
She swallowed, and her voice was barely audible when she whispered, “Almost.”
He moved closer to his goal, trailing the tips of his fingers through the soft thatch covering her womanhood. He wanted to look at her again, see the impossibly blond curls in light of day, but that would have to wait. He was too busy watching her face as he slid his finger inside her.
“Richard,” she gasped.
He groaned. She was so wet and ready for him. But she was tiny, and as they both well knew, still a virgin. He would have to make love to her with great care, moving slowly and with a gentleness at complete odds with the raging fire burning within.
“What you do to me,” he whispered, taking a moment to regain at least a portion of his composure.
She smiled up at him, and there was something so sunny and open in her expression . . . He felt it echo across his own face until he was grinning like a loon, almost laughing with the sheer joy of her company.
“Richard?” she said, her grin right there in her voice.
“I’m just so happy.” He sat up to yank his shirt over his head. “I can’t help it.”
She touched his face, her small hand light and delicate along the line of his jaw.
“Stand up,” he said suddenly.
“What?”
“Stand up.” He eased himself off the bed, then tugged at her hand until she followed suit.
“What are you doing?”
“I believe,” he said, sliding her dress down over her hips, “I’m disrobing you.”
Her eyes fell to the front of his breeches.
“Oh, I’ll get to that,” he promised. “But first . . .” He found the delicate ties to her chemise and pulled, catching his breath when it fell to the floor in a cloud of white silk. She was still wearing her stockings, but he wasn’t sure he could wait long enough to divest her of those, and at any rate, her hands were at his waist, urgently slipping the buttons undone.
“You’re too slow,” she muttered, practically yanking his breeches down.
The threads of his desire stretched impossibly taut.
“I’m trying to be gentle.”
“I don’t want you to be gentle.”
He grabbed her under her buttocks, lifting her to meet him, and they both tumbled to the bed. Her legs slid open, and without even trying he found himself at her entrance, using every ounce of his control to keep himself from plunging forward.
He looked at her, his eyes asking—Are you ready?
She grabbed his bottom and let out a frustrated cry. It might have been his name. He didn’t know; he couldn’t hear anything beyond the blood rushing through his body as he surged forward, sheathing himself within her.
It was all so fast. He felt her tense, and he lifted himself up as best he could. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”
“Don’t stop,” she growled, and then all speech was lost. He plunged into her, over and over, driven by an urgency he did not fully comprehend. All he knew was that he needed her. He needed to fill her, to be consumed by her. He wanted to feel her legs wrapped around him, to feel the thrust of her hips as she rose to meet him.
She was hungry, maybe even as hungry as he was, and it only served to inflame his desire. He was close, so close, he could barely keep himself from exploding. And then—thank God because he didn’t think he could have lasted another second—he felt her clench around him, tight as a fist, and she cried out. He came so fast, she was still pulsing around him when he was done.