The Earl's Bride by Joanne Wadsworth

Author:Joanne Wadsworth [Wadsworth, Joanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-12-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

“I’m already yours, James.”

Sophia spread one hand over his chest, her heartbeat pounding against her ribcage.

“If anything happened to you because I didn’t take enough care with your safety, then I’d gladly slit my own throat so you remained out of harm’s way.” He wound a long lock of her golden hair around his fist and kept her imprisoned against him.

“I’m safe right now.” Her head spun, both from his immense closeness and the headiness of his powerful touch. “Stake your claim.”

“You truly wish for me to do so?”

“Yes.” He’d kissed her only moments ago and sent her mind spinning, her desire flaring. She certainly understood he wouldn’t be able to make a formal offer for her, but if he made her a promise from his heart which she could hold onto, then doing so would be just as powerful. Slowly, she eased his jacket from his shoulders and let the fabric slide to the floor where it crumpled into a heap. No faltering. She would show him with her actions exactly how much she loved him. She unknotted his cravat, tossed it aside then flicked his shirt buttons open before smoothing over the hard muscles of his abdomen, his torso strong and rigidly firm. On her toes, she touched her mouth to his, her fingers digging into his muscled flesh.

“You will be the end of me. I’m certain of it.” Groaning, he caught her head in his hands and took their kiss deeper, longer, an entwining of their very souls. “I want to devour you, Sophia, but I won’t ruin you.”

“Devouring sounds delicious.”

“You need to cease encouraging me.” He nudged her backward, not toward the bed, but until her back came up against the wall, the rigid lines crossing his belly tightening so magnificently.

“I trust you.” She’d given him her trust the first day they’d met, when he’d caught her as she’d toppled from a wooden pail while trying to rescue a wee kitten from its precarious perch between two branches. Never would she take that trust back.

“Then let me show you the woman I see before me, the one I wish to stake my claim of, the one I shall always adore.” He loosened the laces at the neckline of her nightgown and slid the fabric down her arms. The ivory linen caught at her elbows, her breasts spilling free, then gently, he turned her to face the tall-standing oval mirror propped in one corner.

Her reflection shimmered back at her. She stood bared to her waist, the man at her back shirtless and a head taller than her, the light from the glowing fire glittering in his passion-filled eyes. He trailed a finger along the arch of her brow down to the sweeping hollow of her cheek then along her jaw. She tingled everywhere he touched.

“You’ve skin as pale as alabaster and as soft as satin.” A sweep of his hand down her neck, his voice low and husky, his gaze moving over her breasts. “You’re so beautiful.

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