Charming Sir Charles (Dashing Widows Book 5) by Anna Campbell

Author:Anna Campbell [Campbell, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anna Campbell
Published: 2017-02-26T18:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Ten

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Even through the rush of rising excitement, Charles knew he should question this sudden capitulation, this quick switch from distance to desire. He should slow down, declare his intentions, inquire after Sally’s, gain some commitment that her consent meant to her what it meant to him.

But he’d spent endless weeks longing for her, separated from her by a pane of glass he couldn’t shatter. To have her with him now, warm, welcoming, willing, how the devil could he pause and take stock before proceeding?

“Oh, my darling,” he breathed, flinging off his coat and seizing her hand. He brought it to his lips and covered it with kisses, all the time watching desire turned her green eyes to dark jade. Even through the dim light, he read the naked demand in her expression.

Setting one knee on the chaise longue, he straddled her. He slid his arms around her back and brought her up for another kiss. He couldn’t get enough of that luscious mouth, of her tangy flavor. She curled her arms around his neck and responded with the readiness that had shocked him at first and still filled him with surprised gratitude.

The hint of inexperience in her kisses touched his heart, reminded him to cherish her. One day, she’d tell him about her marriage, but now he knew enough to understand that she needed his care as well as his ardor.

“I want you so much,” she murmured, trailing her lips along the side of his face. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Sally…”

“Please.”

He kissed her neck, delighting in how she trembled. Nor was he much steadier. His shaking hands took forever to loosen the lacing at the back of her green dress.

Gently he slid her bodice down to reveal her beautiful breasts. At the sight of her pearled pink nipples, need jolted him like a sharp blow to the belly.

“Oh,” she squeaked and raised her hands to cover herself.

“Let me see,” he said in a choked voice.

For a moment, she hesitated, then slowly she lay back and lowered her hands. With a pride that made his heart crack, she raised her chin.

“Perfect,” he whispered, and stroked and squeezed until she squirmed with longing.

When he took one pebbled nipple between his lips and flicked his tongue across it, she cried out and buried her hand in his hair. The rhythm her fingertips set up against his scalp matched the ravenous beat of his blood.

Dear God above, he had to have her.

He slid his hand under her skirts and found her skin. Warm. Smooth. He pushed the loose drawers up until he could slip his hand between her legs, stroking her through the frail lawn. She was wet and aroused. After doubting that she wanted him at all, he loved that she couldn’t hide her swift response. The heady scent of her arousal threatened to send him mad.

With sudden ruthlessness, he rose and knelt between her legs. He shoved up her skirts and reached down to rip her drawers, revealing her to his avid eyes.

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