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Authors: Sue London
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to scrubbing everything clean. Her fingers on his scalp actually felt quite nice but she finished with alacrity and poured the hot rinse water over him.
Sputtering under the onslaught he said, “I will assume that I've annoyed you.”
“Not especially.”
He caught her wrists and pulled her into his lap in the tub with a splash.
“Well done,” she said drily, “now you've annoyed me.”
He kissed her. Kissed her until she melted against his chest. Until the water cooled and the fire had burned down in its grate. Nipping her ear he murmured, “I should take you upstairs.”
“If either of us can get me up the stairs in this sodden dress.”
He pulled the sleeves down. “Leave it here.”
“If you keep pulling at it like that you'll tear it.”
He pulled harder until it ripped. “You mean like this?”
She bit his chin. “You are a terror to my wardrobe.”
“I can't have you struggling on the stairs. Or catching your death of cold.”
“So now you'll have me run about in my wet chemise?”
He looked at how the drenched silk clung to her curves. “At all times, if possible.”
She leaned close to whisper in his ear. “Why, Mr. Bittlesworth, whatever will the servants think?”
He stood, lifting her from the chilling water. Her sodden, rent dress fell to the stone floor with a soft splash.
She shivered. “I might yet catch my death.”
He carried her to his room where they made love under the blankets until they were both quite warm again.
* * *
Imogen awoke in a tangle of bedclothes with her lover's breath feathering over her lower back as he snored. It tickled and was oddly endearing. She must have shifted, because she heard his breath catch as he awoke. One arm snaked around her belly as he kissed her back.
“Robert,” she said, wriggling.
“Yes, Miss Grant?” He kissed one cheek of her derrière, then the other.
“I need to use the necessary.”
He nipped and kissed her hip. “Urgently?”
“A bit, yes.”
“Perhaps we should test your self-control.”
“Robert!”
Her struggling ceased after he turned her on her back and licked his way up her inner thigh. Lord, but the things this man could do to her. He refused to let her up until they had achieved another shuddering climax together. She made her way to the chamber pot on unsteady legs.
While she was behind the screen he asked, “Any plans for today?”
“Today is going to be different than our other days here?”
“We have little time left. I wondered if you wanted today to be different?”
When she came around the screen she saw that he was still sprawled on his back in the bed. She might never get her fill of the delicious, uninhibited, and decidedly naughty Robert Bittlesworth. If they had so little time left she knew precisely what she wanted. She crawled atop him and relished the feel of his strong hands grasping her hips as he looked up at her curiously. “I think,” she said, drawing her fingernail lightly down his chest, “that we should stay right here. All day.”
“Just like this?”
She giggled. ”Perhaps we could move around a bit.”
His smile of approval at her humor was tinged with too much affection. She didn’t want his affection, just his passion. She kissed a trail down his chest to see if she could arouse that passion again.
* * *
Robert awoke in the middle of the night. He couldn’t remember a time when he had slept as much, or as well. Some of it was undoubtedly his warm, delightful bed companion. He reached out to touch her, surprised that he didn’t have at least a hand on her, as he always seemed to when they were in bed. The bed was empty, the sheets already cooling. He sat up, on alert. Robert was a light sleeper. How had she slipped from bed without his notice?
He took stock of his surroundings. Pale moonlight filtered in past the curtains. The fire had burned down and only the slightest scent of smoke stayed in the air. It was quiet, with even
Sputtering under the onslaught he said, “I will assume that I've annoyed you.”
“Not especially.”
He caught her wrists and pulled her into his lap in the tub with a splash.
“Well done,” she said drily, “now you've annoyed me.”
He kissed her. Kissed her until she melted against his chest. Until the water cooled and the fire had burned down in its grate. Nipping her ear he murmured, “I should take you upstairs.”
“If either of us can get me up the stairs in this sodden dress.”
He pulled the sleeves down. “Leave it here.”
“If you keep pulling at it like that you'll tear it.”
He pulled harder until it ripped. “You mean like this?”
She bit his chin. “You are a terror to my wardrobe.”
“I can't have you struggling on the stairs. Or catching your death of cold.”
“So now you'll have me run about in my wet chemise?”
He looked at how the drenched silk clung to her curves. “At all times, if possible.”
She leaned close to whisper in his ear. “Why, Mr. Bittlesworth, whatever will the servants think?”
He stood, lifting her from the chilling water. Her sodden, rent dress fell to the stone floor with a soft splash.
She shivered. “I might yet catch my death.”
He carried her to his room where they made love under the blankets until they were both quite warm again.
* * *
Imogen awoke in a tangle of bedclothes with her lover's breath feathering over her lower back as he snored. It tickled and was oddly endearing. She must have shifted, because she heard his breath catch as he awoke. One arm snaked around her belly as he kissed her back.
“Robert,” she said, wriggling.
“Yes, Miss Grant?” He kissed one cheek of her derrière, then the other.
“I need to use the necessary.”
He nipped and kissed her hip. “Urgently?”
“A bit, yes.”
“Perhaps we should test your self-control.”
“Robert!”
Her struggling ceased after he turned her on her back and licked his way up her inner thigh. Lord, but the things this man could do to her. He refused to let her up until they had achieved another shuddering climax together. She made her way to the chamber pot on unsteady legs.
While she was behind the screen he asked, “Any plans for today?”
“Today is going to be different than our other days here?”
“We have little time left. I wondered if you wanted today to be different?”
When she came around the screen she saw that he was still sprawled on his back in the bed. She might never get her fill of the delicious, uninhibited, and decidedly naughty Robert Bittlesworth. If they had so little time left she knew precisely what she wanted. She crawled atop him and relished the feel of his strong hands grasping her hips as he looked up at her curiously. “I think,” she said, drawing her fingernail lightly down his chest, “that we should stay right here. All day.”
“Just like this?”
She giggled. ”Perhaps we could move around a bit.”
His smile of approval at her humor was tinged with too much affection. She didn’t want his affection, just his passion. She kissed a trail down his chest to see if she could arouse that passion again.
* * *
Robert awoke in the middle of the night. He couldn’t remember a time when he had slept as much, or as well. Some of it was undoubtedly his warm, delightful bed companion. He reached out to touch her, surprised that he didn’t have at least a hand on her, as he always seemed to when they were in bed. The bed was empty, the sheets already cooling. He sat up, on alert. Robert was a light sleeper. How had she slipped from bed without his notice?
He took stock of his surroundings. Pale moonlight filtered in past the curtains. The fire had burned down and only the slightest scent of smoke stayed in the air. It was quiet, with even
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