not
in the room at the time.”
“Did
you want to be?”
“Did
I want to be what?”
Feeling
as though a thousand butterflies were dancing in her belly, Sarah bit her lip
and blurted out, “In the room.”
Devlin’s
eyes widened ever so slightly. “I… That is to say… Is there anything you need,
Lady Dawson?”
It
was now or never. Looking Devlin straight in the eye, Sarah drew a deep,
steadying breath even as her knees trembled and her heart threatened to beat
right out of her chest. “You,” she whispered. “I need you.”
This
time there was no mistaking the Viscount’s shock at Sarah’s forwardness. His
entire body stiffened and he took one step towards her before he stopped
himself, jaw clenching tight. “Lady Dawson, you do not know what you are
saying.”
Now
that she had admitted her deepest, darkest desire Sarah felt as if a great
weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Of their own accord her feet began
to move, carrying her purposefully across the distance that separated her from
Devlin. His arms remained rigid at his sides, the only sign he was having
difficulty controlling himself in the clenching and unclenching of his fists.
Tipping
her chin up Sarah studied the fathomless depths of his stormy blue eyes and
what she saw caused her lips to curve and an unprecedented sense of confidence
to settle serenely on her shoulders.
“Call
me Sarah.” She raised her hands and pressed them flat against Devlin’s chest.
He inhaled sharply at her touch, and Sarah’s smile grew. Through the thin
fabric of his shirt she could feel his heartbeat. It thundered under her palms,
revealing Devlin was not quite as composed as he would have her believe. “And I
know exactly what I am saying.”
“Sarah…”
he spoke her name on a ragged breath, his expression pained as he gazed down
upon her. “Are you certain? I do not want you to regret—”
Sarah
rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to Devlin’s, effectively silencing
him. For a fleeting moment he did not move, and she hesitated, suddenly unsure
if she had been mistaken in her assumption that he desired her as much as she
did him, but then on a muffled groan his arms closed around her slender body
and he pulled her into his embrace.
For
Sarah, whose only experience with kissing came from what she had heard
whispered at tea parties and balls, the sensation of having Devlin’s lips
contoured to hers was blissfully new and exciting. She had no idea what to do,
but he guided her patiently, running his tongue along her bottom lip, nibbling
at the corners of her mouth, and – surprises of all surprises – kissing inside her mouth.
His
hands moved in soothing strokes up and down her spine, slipping lower and lower
with every pass. Instinctively Sarah moved closer to him, pressing her body tight
against his and winding her fingers up through his hair.
Firelight
bathed them, flickering over their joined silhouette as Devlin easily scooped
Sarah up and carried her to the bed. He laid her upon the mattress with
reverence, his gaze boldly traveling the length of her delicate frame before he
stretched out beside her, wrapping one arm around her ribcage while the other
cupped the back of her head.
“Relax,”
he whispered against her ear before he lowered his head to nip at the exposed
curve of her neck. Sarah shuddered, then sighed with pleasure as he pressed his
mouth to hers and drew her tongue to his. “You taste like honey.” The hand at
her waist began to slowly wander up towards the swell of her breasts. He cupped
one and then the other, his thumb flicking over her hardened nipples through
the soft cloth of her nightgown while she arched her back and gasped in wonder
at the feelings he was bringing to life inside of her, as if she were a violin
and he a musician, plucking notes from her body she had never even known
existed.
With
a deft pull Devlin undid the laces at the top of her nightgown, baring her
shoulders and breasts to his
in the room at the time.”
“Did
you want to be?”
“Did
I want to be what?”
Feeling
as though a thousand butterflies were dancing in her belly, Sarah bit her lip
and blurted out, “In the room.”
Devlin’s
eyes widened ever so slightly. “I… That is to say… Is there anything you need,
Lady Dawson?”
It
was now or never. Looking Devlin straight in the eye, Sarah drew a deep,
steadying breath even as her knees trembled and her heart threatened to beat
right out of her chest. “You,” she whispered. “I need you.”
This
time there was no mistaking the Viscount’s shock at Sarah’s forwardness. His
entire body stiffened and he took one step towards her before he stopped
himself, jaw clenching tight. “Lady Dawson, you do not know what you are
saying.”
Now
that she had admitted her deepest, darkest desire Sarah felt as if a great
weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Of their own accord her feet began
to move, carrying her purposefully across the distance that separated her from
Devlin. His arms remained rigid at his sides, the only sign he was having
difficulty controlling himself in the clenching and unclenching of his fists.
Tipping
her chin up Sarah studied the fathomless depths of his stormy blue eyes and
what she saw caused her lips to curve and an unprecedented sense of confidence
to settle serenely on her shoulders.
“Call
me Sarah.” She raised her hands and pressed them flat against Devlin’s chest.
He inhaled sharply at her touch, and Sarah’s smile grew. Through the thin
fabric of his shirt she could feel his heartbeat. It thundered under her palms,
revealing Devlin was not quite as composed as he would have her believe. “And I
know exactly what I am saying.”
“Sarah…”
he spoke her name on a ragged breath, his expression pained as he gazed down
upon her. “Are you certain? I do not want you to regret—”
Sarah
rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to Devlin’s, effectively silencing
him. For a fleeting moment he did not move, and she hesitated, suddenly unsure
if she had been mistaken in her assumption that he desired her as much as she
did him, but then on a muffled groan his arms closed around her slender body
and he pulled her into his embrace.
For
Sarah, whose only experience with kissing came from what she had heard
whispered at tea parties and balls, the sensation of having Devlin’s lips
contoured to hers was blissfully new and exciting. She had no idea what to do,
but he guided her patiently, running his tongue along her bottom lip, nibbling
at the corners of her mouth, and – surprises of all surprises – kissing inside her mouth.
His
hands moved in soothing strokes up and down her spine, slipping lower and lower
with every pass. Instinctively Sarah moved closer to him, pressing her body tight
against his and winding her fingers up through his hair.
Firelight
bathed them, flickering over their joined silhouette as Devlin easily scooped
Sarah up and carried her to the bed. He laid her upon the mattress with
reverence, his gaze boldly traveling the length of her delicate frame before he
stretched out beside her, wrapping one arm around her ribcage while the other
cupped the back of her head.
“Relax,”
he whispered against her ear before he lowered his head to nip at the exposed
curve of her neck. Sarah shuddered, then sighed with pleasure as he pressed his
mouth to hers and drew her tongue to his. “You taste like honey.” The hand at
her waist began to slowly wander up towards the swell of her breasts. He cupped
one and then the other, his thumb flicking over her hardened nipples through
the soft cloth of her nightgown while she arched her back and gasped in wonder
at the feelings he was bringing to life inside of her, as if she were a violin
and he a musician, plucking notes from her body she had never even known
existed.
With
a deft pull Devlin undid the laces at the top of her nightgown, baring her
shoulders and breasts to his
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