“Yes.” He decided against lighting a candle. The window had no curtains, and so the partial moonlight streamed in. He could see how her skin glowed like alabaster especially as she pulled off her gloves.
He stripped off his coat and waistcoat, wanting full use of his arms. Meanwhile, she wandered through his tiny room, stepping into the only open place near the window. While he set his clothing aside, she stood looking out at the street below, at the expanse of rooftops, and perhaps, at the indifferent moon. He, on the other hand, got to look at her.
The feathers were nearly all gone, and the moonlight highlighted the silver stitching along the silk. A design that…
“Are these wings?” He couldn’t stop himself from tracing the line along her back. She shivered as he touched her, and her eyes drifted closed.
“Yes,” she whispered. And in that word, there was so much more than an answer to his question. It was gratitude, anticipation, and need all compressed into that single sound. And it was all the permission he needed.
He kissed the skin along her neck. Her hair had mostly tumbled down, and so he used his fingers to pull the tendrils aside. She let her head drop to the side to give him better access as he nipped her sweet skin.
Her scent was stronger now than earlier. Or perhaps away from the cloying atmosphere of the ball, he could sense her more clearly. She’d used lemon on her hair. She tasted of salt and strawberries. He had no idea how, but that’s what came to his mind.
And then there was her musk. Not something he usually appreciated, especially on a woman. But her scent filled his nostrils, and his body began to take over. His hips pushed forward, grinding his erection against her. Her bottom tightened against him. For a moment, he thought she was appalled by his base actions, but then she pressed backward against him, rubbing herself enough to make him insane with want.
His hands were shaking as he tugged at the shoulders of her gown. It took him a moment to realize that the dress had to go over her head or be ripped. He almost did it anyway, but he wouldn’t shame her that way.
So he pulled her backward—away from the window—and began to gently tug her gown up. Her skirt lifted, and she gasped.
“That feels…the silk feels…decadent,” she whispered.
Decadent was good, so he took his time, swishing it against the silk of her stockings. She seemed to like it, making a sound that was as much a moan as a purr.
“I am going to teach you such things,” he whispered. It was a vow he made to himself. Tonight she would know what she could experience. What lovemaking could be.
So he made a sensuous dance of lifting her dress off. She was out of the moonlight, but he could still see her in his mirror: a woman ripe for the taking with silk stockings gartered at her thighs, a corset that cinched her waist and pumped her breasts, and a chemise so fine it was nearly translucent.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Look in the mirror,” he said as he angled her to see. “Watch what happens when I touch you.”
He didn’t loosen her corset yet. Instead, he tugged apart the thin straps of her chemise and let the edges drift down. The skin of her bodice had flushed rosy, but in the mirror, he could see that she was watching him. Steady. Calm. Too quiet, in fact. He resolved to make her scream.
So he stroked across her chest and then dipped a finger beneath the fabric to pop across her nipple. She gasped, her body momentarily tightening. And then when she relaxed, her body settled a little more deeply against him.
He played that way with both her nipples. Brushing underneath, pinching them as best he could, before pulling away. He learned that when he pinched hard, she gasped, but she moaned when he managed to twist them a little. And she sighed sweetly whenever he brushed his fingers across her chest.
But soon she began to get restless. She reached behind herself to tug at the ties of her corset, and so he pressed another kiss to her shoulder. “Allow me,” he said.
Even in the dark, he had no trouble untying her laces. He quickly divested her of the tight garment, and then she pulled off her chemise. That left her standing before him naked except for her stockings and slippers.
She looked lush there in the half light. While he was untying her corset, she’d gathered her hair, pulling it to the side so that a riot of auburn curls draped across her right shoulder.
He grabbed a candle, lighting it with shaking hands. He was much too eager for what was to come as he carefully set it so the light would hit her just right. “You are going to see the most beautiful thing.”
Then he settled himself on the edge of the bed. His room was so small, there was little space between bed and the full mirror propped against the wall.
“Will you do exactly as I say?” he asked. “Will you follow my lead and…” He swallowed. “And stop me when I want more?”
She nodded, but he could tell she didn’t understand. It was up to him to remain honorable. To teach her just so much and not take more. It was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done.
And yet, just then, as he pulled her to sit on the edge of the bed between his spread legs, it felt like the most wonderful thing in his life.
“Don’t you want to take off your clothes?” she asked.
More than anything, but he needed the reminder. “It’s better if I don’t.”
She twisted in his arms and tugged at his shirtsleeves. “At least let me feel you.”
He hesitated, wanting to give in. Then she took away the decision, unbuttoning his shirt with quick and clever fingers. Quick because he was nearly unbuttoned before his next breath. Clever because she used the backs of her fingers to stroke his belly as she worked. His muscles leaped beneath her fingers, and he closed his eyes to better appreciate the feel of her touching him so intimately. It was all he would allow himself, and so he would live it to the extreme.