Deliciously Debauched by the Rake Read Online Free PDF Page B

breathed. “And pleasure you.”
    Dumb, unable to speak for the tension of desire gripping her unmercifully, she nodded.
    â€œTurn around, my darling,” he murmured.
    All around her, a slender goddess in black whirled about and the black silk skirts flowed like mysterious waters, catching the light and holding it as the fabric settled in sensual clinging folds. The bow in the tie at the neck pulled undone in a heartbeat. The ribbon at the waist followed. Designed just for this, it slipped down her length to puddle around her feet. He swung her around to face him, his hungry gaze skimming her body, lingering at her breasts rising stark white above the black lace edge, and then moved on to where the chemise barely covered her femininity and revealed the length of her thighs and the garters above her knee.
    He knelt before her to remove her shoes with reverential movements while she kept her balance by holding on to his broad, powerful shoulders. Next came her garters, his fingers working swiftly at the silken bows she’d tied with such care. They, too, were removed. He slid his hands up her calves over her knees and gently caressed her thighs before dipping his dark head to the apex and kissing her through the muslin.
    She hissed in at the sensation of hot breath and pressure on that most sensitive place.
    He groaned, a sound of pleasure mingled with pain, and kissed her again. She wanted more, much more, and she curled her fingers in his dark hair, pressing him closer. Sweet pleasure. But it did not last long. Against her wishes he rose. His gray eyes smoky, eyelids heavy, he kissed the point of her chin. “Patience.”
    He didn’t seem to have an awful lot of patience as he divested her of chemise and stays, leaving her naked to his hungry gaze. She could not remember when she had been so blatantly nude. Indeed, she’d always been a little prim and proper, and had never felt quite comfortable flaunting her body, though he had seen her naked in his bed many, many times.
    His eyes seemed to drink her in as he followed the contours of her body with his large, warm hands. She thought she might melt into puddle, his expression contained so much longing and tenderness.
    She couldn’t bear the tenderness. “Now you,” she ordered.
    His nostrils flared as if he would object, but he stepped back and stripped off his own clothes, revealing he was just as aroused as she. She loved his bold shaft. The size of it and the heft of his stones. Excitement, anticipation had her trembling. Eagerly, she let him lead her up the marble steps to the dais and then up a couple more to a platform that would allow her to step down easily into the shell-like bath.
    She paused to gaze down into the scented water. It smelled of roses. Just like the blooms he had given her last night. Across its surface floated yellow petals. He mounted the steps behind her, looking over her shoulder, his erection hard and warm against her buttocks. “A new beginning deserves a new color,” he murmured in her ear.
    Inwardly, she winced. “What if it is an ending?”
    â€œOh, it is definitely that,” he replied. “It deserves its own color, too.”
    Black. For mourning. Roses didn’t come in black. She stepped down. The water, perfumed with oil and just hot enough to be comfortable, reached almost to her knees and enticed her in. The air in the room was also deliciously warm, she realized. Even naked she felt not a shiver. The warm, silky water, played over her belly and breasts and she watched him step down to join her, so lithe and strong and manly. Beautiful.
    She’d been fortunate to keep him for so long.
    Oh, dear, now was not the time for sadness to blur her eyes and fill her throat with burning. Shaking off the sudden rush of emotion, she reached out a hand that trembled a little more than she wanted. Seeming not to notice, he took it and while the tub was wide enough for them to lie side