True Pretenses: Lively St. Lemeston, Book 2 by Rose Lerner

Author:Rose Lerner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: con artist;heiress;Christmas;Jewish hero;cross-class romance;small town;Regency;marriage of convenience
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2015-01-13T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Ash’s head spun a little when he stood, but he fetched her fur-lined cloak and laid it out on the stone. “Lie down.”

She obeyed. He put his hands on her silk-stockinged ankles above gossamer slippers and slid her skirts up the dizzying curves of her legs, resisting the temptation to unhook her brightly embroidered garters.

“I thought no one would see them,” she said. “I know I shouldn’t be wearing colors, but buying new ones seemed such a waste.”

“I like them.” He had never thought before about how intimate it was, to know what someone’s underthings looked like. They’d be sitting at dinner, respectable as you please, and he’d know these were there. He crooked a finger around the ivory satin before abandoning them for the bare skin above her stockings. Curving his hands under her thighs, he drew them apart. Her skirts pooled. When she pulled them out of the way, there was her cunt, laid bare to him.

He felt like a virgin, a fumbling boy overwhelmed by the very idea that women had bodies. In the dim light her pale skin and darker hair looked like milk and honey, like the Promised Land. Kneeling, he reverently kissed her inner thighs, the left and then the right.

She lay very still, but she wasn’t calm or patient now. He could feel the tension radiating from her. Mostly lust, of course, but he remembered her saying, It’s more like fear that you won’t think I’m a lady anymore, and thought that there must be some of that mixed in. He hated the idea of fear threaded through this moment. But promising he’d never use this against her would only make her realize he was thinking of all the ways he could.

“Thank you,” he said at last, smoothing his thumbs along the creases of her thighs. “I’ll treasure this memory forever.”

She didn’t answer, so he bent his head and licked up her until he found the right spot. When he sucked it gently into his mouth, she drew in a deep, heaving breath, her hips tilting up and her thighs pushing into his hands.

He raised his head to tell her it had been a while, and she could give him instructions if she liked.

“Please do that again,” she said in a taut voice.

He obliged her. She tasted incredible and smelled better, nothing like flowers at all. He loved the way she surrounded him, how she moved slow and urgent as planets revolving. Her skin was like nothing else, not satin or silk or cream, just human flesh, hot and wonderful in his hands. He loved the way her curls poked at his nose, loved her short, desperate breaths, loved her.

He teased her slit with his finger. She was so wet he slipped in almost without meaning to. She froze, clamping around him. “Sorry,” he said, wiggling his finger. “May I?”

There was a long, hopeful moment. “Yes.”

“Good. I want to feel it when you spend.”

He could feel her give up whatever control she’d

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