“Millie.” He chuckled softly. “Oh, Millie”
“Stand up,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She glanced up, catching the flicker of a smile.Thatwas better.
“Now, you set to taking out my hair pins,” she instructed as he pulled off his waistcoat. “And I’ll see to your other fastenings.”
Dutifully, he began searching through her coiffure for the hidden metal sticks. He cast each aside, willy-nilly, anywhere but on the bed. Little ringlets fell here and there, silken strands across her face and nape.
She was too busy to give her full notice. First, she encircled him with her arms and, blindly, felt for and released the tie at the waist of his trousers. Then she set her fingers to the three buttons. She squealed in triumph and delight as his trousers dropped to the floor.
“Success!” She grinned up at him. “And this my first time, too!”
He cupped her face, smiled down into her eyes, and then devoured her with a rough kiss.
She was not disappointed in the sight of him bare.
No, not in the least.
*
Neville’s beloved mayhave had a sharp tongue, but her mouth was small and sweet, and her lips joined eagerly with his own.
A few moments ago, a haze had come over him, and then a focused rush so strong, he’d almost whipped up Millie’s skirts and destroyed every secret, cherished hope he had for theirmarriage by ripping off his trouser flap, lifting her hips, and then burying himself inside of her, fast, hard and deep.
Only a sharp, lightning strike of awareness of everything he could lose had made him stop.
He’d almost taken his wife from behind, and on her first time, too.
Guilt sat, sick and swampy in his gut.
But those moans! Those little, wiggling whimpers!
Millie’s strange mix of innocence and boldness would plague him even if he were a saint.
He’d intended to pause. Maybe even tell her they should delay consummation until they’d both had some rest. But then, she’d taken off his trousers, and there was nothing he could do to stop what was coming next.
He still had on his shirt, and she, her shift.
But now her dark brown hair, appearing almost auburn in the orange candlelight, fell wildly about her shoulders, reminding him of the indecent vision he’d had right in the middle of Almack’s, of her in breeches!
After feeling every inch of that arse, he didn’t think he could handle her in breeches.
Not, at least, for several satiating months.
“So,” he spoke against her lips, “you’d like to see me bare.”
“You brought up the topic first.”
“True.” He sucked on her intoxicating bottom lip. “Shall I first take off your shift?” She tasted of wanton and wine. “Or would you like to take off my shirt?”
“Your shirt, please,” she meekly asked. “Only fair if you go first, as you have more experience.”
He’d had no experience like this. He pulled back, and, suppressing the fear she would turn away in disgust, gathered up the fabric and whipped off all that remained of his clothes.
She exhaled. “No corset.”