‘I know,’ he said. ‘Believe me, I am feeling very annoyed with myself.’
His cock was hot against her pelvis, the pressure sweet as she pulled herself higher against him. He groaned at the feel, but no more than she. How did he set her blood on fire so quickly?
‘I decide,’ she whispered. ‘You do not make my choices for me.’
He looked in her eyes. Their gazes held for a long time, and she thought for a moment that he understood. But in the end, his expression turned fierce.
‘You decide for you, but I am part of this equation.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Yes, you are.’
They were still standing face-to-face when she felt the buttons on the back of her gown slip apart. His hands were clever as always, and soon her dress sagged then slipped off her shoulders. But this was not China. She wore almost as much below her gown as above. The dress slipped away, but beneath that she wore stays atop her shift.
He looked down, his gaze hot as he stroked his finger across her chest. He skated to the edge of her shift, teasing the ribbons there, but not pulling them.
‘I have dreams about your breasts,’ he murmured. ‘I remember how they feel in my hands. Your nipples enchant me.’ The edge of his thumbnail cut over the fabric to her tightened nipple. He scraped it there while her breath caught with every pass.
‘I think about your legs,’ she said. ‘I watched you climb the ratlines, the way your muscles bunched before you jumped from one to the other. The way you caught yourself, swinging while your shoulders hunched, and you pulled yourself up.’ She shook her head. ‘I watched you a thousand times. I can still see it.’
And she could, her eyes closing as she remembered him in the sails. Him behind her in his bed. Him with his hands on her breasts and his body surrounding hers. How he’d made her body sing.
How she wanted to feel it again.
She reached for the ties to her stays. She could undress herself as easily as he did. She could—
‘No.’
‘What?’
‘I cannot touch you like that and stop. I cannot…’
‘I want it.’
He released a long shuddering breath. ‘I get to choose, too. I will not ruin you.’
‘But—’
He cut off her words with a kiss. He cupped her face, he teased the roof of her mouth, and then—
He swept her up in his arms. She gasped and clutched his arms, anchoring herself to him as he set her down in the berth. There was room there for them both, but he did not set her longwise. And he kept her face forwards while he gently set her down.
‘Cedric—’ she began, but he shook his head. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say anyway, so she fell silent as he knelt before her.
‘We can do this,’ he said, his voice tense.
She didn’t know what he meant, but she didn’t care. In this, he knew what he was about. And she was his willing partner.
His hands skimmed down her legs, quickly cupping her feet before inching his way up her calves. She wore stockings and slippers, but they might as well not have been there for the heat she felt at his touch. Strong fingers, large hands and the mesmerizing squeeze as he steadily rose up her legs.
Her knees fell open and her toes curled. Then the cool air hit her thighs as her skirt bunched over his arms. Would he touch her there again? That spot between her thighs?
‘Have you explored on your own? Have you touched yourself?’
He held her gaze as he asked, and she couldn’t imagine lying to him for all that it made her cheeks flush.
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice hoarse.
‘And did you think about me?’