“I’m not sure if I can sleep in a bed with another person,” she mused. “Or tangled up like this.”
“Once you’re used to me touching you, you’ll enjoy it,” he promised. “You might sleep better, knowing I’m near.”
“You should know, I’m a light sleeper.” Jasmine huffed. With her nose in the air, she warned, “If you snore, you’ll have to sleep on the settee.”
“Thesettee?” Matthew’s voice rose in pitch, and he laughed. “Cruel wife, my legs will dangle off the end!”
“Best to breathe freely then.”
“Maybe I’ll haveyouon the settee.” He dug his fingers into her side and attacked every place she was ticklish. “You’ll have toobeyme.”
She erupted in laughter, squirming and shrieking. “Anything but that!”
Before the tickling sensation became too much, Matthew relented. Breathing hard, Jasmine snuggled closer. After another hiccuping laugh, she said, “You should know, I’ll be a handful. I like getting my way.”
“Oh, I know. I’m ready.” He placed his hand on her knee, thumb stroking idly. “You’ll find a pushover with me. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy.”
“Is that so?”
Jasmine covered his hand with hers. With her fingertip, she tracedMatthew’s index finger, leaving a trail of black powder and fire in her wake. Her fingernail grazed his skin as she slid her finger up, then back down. Up. Then down. He skipped a breath. Surely she could feel his thundering heartbeat through her back, because one corner of her lip lifted, and she pressed his hand an inchloweron her leg. Her satin dress bunched under his grip, lifting to show the lace on her petticoat at her ankle. With her every movement, she tested her power over him.
She could have itall.
“Tell me what makes you happy,” he whispered. “Name it, and I’ll do it.”
“Hm.I’m happy now. Being here, with the family. With you.” She nuzzled her cheekbone against his chin. “Only one thing would make it better.”
“What would that be?”
Her voice was sure as an order. “Kiss me.”
All thoughts silenced as his blood left his brain. The word ‘no’formed in his mouth, because it was what heshouldsay—but he couldn’t. Every muscle screamed for action. She wanted him—and she was sober. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. As if they had all the time in the world, she waited for him to make his move. Her breath landed on his lips, beckoning him.
Matthew breathed, “Jasmine, you torture me.”
“Please,” she whispered. “I want to get used to you.”
He cupped her cheek and lifted until their mouths aligned. She parted her lips to touch her tongue to his, and he groaned into her. Her tongue delved deeper into his mouth, flooding him with the taste of lemon tarts—so sweet he wanted to lay her down on the blanket and devour her.
Everyinchof her.
At his limit, his restraint nearly crumbled. He drew back, but she advanced. When she kissed him again, she pulled his bottom lip intoher mouth. Riding a dangerous line, he held her by the nape of her neck and took control. Asserting hard pressure, he danced his tongue over hers, drawing a low moan from the back of her throat.
Using everyounceof his willpower, he separated from her.
“Stop.” Through harsh breaths, he whispered, “I can’t.”
Rejection hollowed her voice. “Can’t…?”
“Don’t misunderstand.” He held her tight, as if he could absorb her. “Iwantyou, but I want to do this right.”
“Matthew…” Jasmine buried her head in his shoulder, muffling her voice. “Are you in—”
Seth’s voice called out.
“Matthew, you’re up!”
Not anymore. “I’ll be right there!”