An Officer but No Gentleman Read Online Free PDF Page B

perhaps that would be enough. It was the only deal he could make with himself that would preserve his sanity as he stood there, half-dressed and fully aroused. “Now that you mention it,” Grahame drawled. “I think I could do with a piece of pie.”
    Elowyn dipped her finger into the pot and licked it with a flick of her tongue. “I thought that might be the case.”

Chapter Seven
    Elowyn was ready for him. He’d taken just enough time to put on a shirt before crossing the hall. Grahame shut the door soundlessly behind him, taking in the terrain out of old military habit. Her room was a far sight cozier than his chamber. She and her maid had taken efforts here with sheets and pillows from home. Candles and the firelight added a seductive element, or maybe that was just her. Grahame was starting to think any room would be more seductive with Elowyn in it.
    “You’re a quiet mover for such a large man.” Elowyn stepped into the light. She loosened the belt of her robe, offering him a tantalizing glimpse of skin and shadow.
    “I can be. Stealth comes in handy in the military.”
    “And in dining parlors, too, apparently.” Elowyn ran the tip of her tongue over her lips.
    Elowyn shook her hair free from the single tie that held it. The chestnut hues caught the light of the fire, dancing like a veritable autumn flame. She held his eyes, her mouth curving into a knowing smile. With a shrug, the robe began to slip—first one shoulder, then the other until the robe pooled at her feet, leaving her entirely naked to his gaze. The fact that she did not mind his rather blatant perusal registered somewhere in his brain. And why should she? Elowyn was marvelous naked.
    High, firm breasts with pink nipples played peek-a-boo beneath the long curtain of hair draped over them, not unlike Botticelli’s Venus, he thought. Her skin was pale, too, porcelain-smooth in its perfection, a perfection so different from the tanned roughness of his own. Grahame stepped forward, his body aching to worship this goddess of autumn and flame. It was time to do his part. But Elowyn stopped him with her eyes and an infinitesimal shake of her head. Apparently, her part was not yet done.
    “Have a seat.” She gestured to the chair pulled close to the fire. Grahame sat, hardly able to look away from his Venus. The firelight played across her body, adding grace and mystery to her every move. She stood in front of him, the ramekin in her hand, and Grahame’s mouth went dry. She meant to do it. She meant to seduce him. Elowyn tossed her hair back over her shoulders so that nothing obscured his view now. With deliberate slowness, she scooped up the crème with her fingers and began to draw her hands down her body, circling the areolas of her breasts, then the breasts themselves with the crème . She cupped and lifted each breast, running her thumbs across her nipples for him, her neck arched in delight, a little moan on her lips until Grahame thought he’d come in his chair. Yet he could not look away.
    Always, the trail of her hands led downward, past the flat of her abdomen and the curve of her hip, a map to her pleasure, a key to her expectations until they rested on the auburn mons of her triangle. The silent invitation was not lost on him. She wanted his mouth on her in the most intimate of ways.
    Elowyn stepped back and lay on the bed, legs parted, her inner femininity exposed to him. Her hand moved between her thighs with the last of the crème and Grahame forgot all else. Her voice beckoned, a goddess calling to her supplicant. “Now you may come and feast.”
    Grahame shed his shirt, his hands moving swiftly to the waistband of his trousers, nuisance that they were. He hadn’t spent much time with them on tonight.
    “No, leave the trousers.” Elowyn gave the languorous command from the bed. “We’ll take them off later.” As long as his erection didn’t get there first. The way he felt right now, he wouldn’t be surprised if his cock