A Night to Surrender (Spindle Cove #1)

A Night to Surrender (Spindle Cove #1) Page 27

She nodded, so entranced by his low, sensual whisper that she’d lost any capacity for denial.

“I want to see it,” he said. “Let me see it.”

“What?” Surely he couldn’t be suggesting she remove her gown here, in the middle of the village green.

His hands slid to her back, and the closures of her gown. “You wore it for me, so let me see it. Just the shift, love. Just the shift. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a girl in a plain white shift?”

Susanna didn’t like speculating on the answer to that question. She only knew she hated all the girls who had come before.

His lips brushed her cheek, her neck. The scrape of his whiskers set her senses ablaze. “Let me see you. I only want to look.”

“Only look?”

“Maybe touch, just a little. But only through your shift. I swear, nothing more. I’ll remain clothed. If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop.” He tipped her chin. “You can trust me.”

Could she? She felt herself nod.

His hands slid around her ribs and went to the closures at the back of her gown. “Are these false buttons?”

Without waiting for her answer, he eased the top hook free. Then another. And another. Her bodice began to gape in front. Cool night air rushed over her skin, drawing her nipples to tight peaks.

“Bram. We can’t do this. Not here.”

“Should we go somewhere else?” He loosened another closure at the back of her gown. Her left sleeve slipped from her shoulder in a ripple of violet, baring more of her crisp white chemise. Her ribs pressed against her stays as she struggled for breath.

Her gaze darted to the Blushing Pansy.

“No one can see,” he murmured, pulling her close. His lips brushed the side of her neck. “They’re all occupied in the tavern. Don’t think of anyone else. It’s just the two of us right now.”

Another hook surrendered, and she felt her gown falling away. He drew the right sleeve down her shoulder, trailing kisses down the side of her neck. As if by instinct, she tilted her head to give him better access. His tongue slid lazily over her pulse, setting her senses aflame.

“Bram . . .”

“It’s all right,” he said. “It’s all right to want this.”

His words soothed her nerves. Still, her fingers trembled as she drew her arms out of her sleeves. Once she’d freed them, the violet silk bodice fell slack at her hips. From the waist up, she was clothed only in her corset and chemise.

His hands went to the small of her back, where her corset laces were secured in a tight knot. He fumbled a bit as he picked the tapes loose, as if his hands were unsteady. That subtle hint of uncertainty was comforting.

The laces slid free of their holes, and her corset fell away from her body. Air rushed into her lungs, dizzying and fresh. He let the garment fall softly to the grass. With it went all her confidence. She might as well have been stark naked, considering how vulnerable and exposed she felt.

“What shall I do?” Her voice shook.

His breath caressed her ear. “Just breathe.” He pressed a kiss to her jaw. “Just be here with me. Just be you.”

Warmth bloomed in her heart, suffusing her entire body.

Just be you, he said. He didn’t want her to be different. He didn’t wish she were someone else. He just wanted her to be herself.

She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him full on the lips. Because those precious words deserved a kiss. But most of all, because she was being herself—and kissing him was what she most wanted to do.

They sank into each other, deepening the kiss by slow, sensuous degrees. His tongue teased and coaxed, and she responded in kind. They kissed in an unhurried, almost playful fashion. For a minute. And then matters became serious indeed.

“I need to see you.” His hands tugged at her gown, pushing it down over her hips. “All of you. Now.”

She helped him, shimmying in place until the fabric gave way and slipped to the ground in a shimmering pool. He took both her hands and helped her step free. Then he stood back from her a pace, angling her to catch the best light. His gaze roamed over her. Every inch of her. Beneath the thin muslin, her nipples strained for his touch. The longer the silence stretched, the more impatient she grew. Then more uncertain. Her shift was thin, but it was so dark. Just how much could he see? Did he like what he saw? How did she compare with all those other girls he’d seen in plain white shifts, so very long ago?

“Lovely.” A ragged sigh shook free of his chest. “So lovely. Thank you.”

He drew a single fingertip up the inner slope of her arm. As his touch swept over her scars, she held her breath. But her wounds didn’t give him a moment’s pause.

“I don’t know what it is,” he said, tracing over her shoulder and dipping his fingers to the neckline of her shift. His touch blazed a fiery trail across the tops of her unbound breasts. “But there’s nothing in the world more enticing than a shift like this. Sweet and pure, yet so revealing. Lace, ribbons, silks, furs . . . Nothing can compare.”

His hand slid down, cupping her breast. She swallowed anxiously. But he stayed calm, kneading the soft globe with tantalizing pressure and rolling the taut nipple beneath his thumb.

With a thoughtful tilt of his head, he turned his attention toward her other breast. Now he cupped them both in his hands, plumping the left, then the right . . . as though he were testing and weighing them against each other. Men were so very strange. He pinched both her nipples at the same time, and she gasped with surprise and pleasure.

She covered the noise with a nervous laugh. “Couldn’t you at least kiss me when you do that?”

“Gladly.”

His lips brushed the hollow of her throat. Again, and then again. Light, feathery kisses that tore apart her resistance, shredded any resolve. His hands roamed her curves.

“Bram . . .”

“Just kisses,” he murmured, his lips covering her racing pulse. “Just kisses. I swear, I’ll press you no further. I’ll stop the moment you say the word. Only let me kiss you, Susanna.” He trailed his tongue down her neck.

And she sighed her approval, tilting her head to aid his descent. Just kisses. What harm could a few kisses be? It was no more than they’d already done. In her desire-drugged mind, he made so much sense.

His bent his head, and his tongue made a sure, deliberate pass over her nipple. Then he drew the linen-covered peak into his mouth.

She cried out, shocked by the sudden burst of pleasure.

“Hush,” he murmured against her breast. “Just kisses. That’s all. Just kisses.”

Just kisses. Ha. Oh, certainly, these were just kisses. And the Great Pyramids of Egypt were merely little stacks of stone.

Sensation rocketed through her entire body. She’d never known anything so unbearably, exquisitely sweet. He licked and teased and pulled at her nipple, swirling his tongue in ever-widening circles until the fabric of her shift clung wet and heavy to her breast and the rosy flush of her skin showed through.

He gave her other breast the same careful attention, mouthing every curve. Pasting the linen to her aroused flesh.

“Yes,” he breathed, drawing back to look at her. With his hands he framed her bosom, pulling the wet fabric tight until the dark buds of her nipples were thrust into relief. “Sweet heaven. Like rosebuds in a drift of fresh snow. And this”—he kissed his way down her belly, sinking lower and lower—“this, Susanna, is what will bring a man to his knees.” He pressed his brow to her navel. His mouth settled in the cleft of her thighs, warm and dangerous.

“Bram,” she whispered, frantic. “Bram, please get up. This can’t be good for your injured leg.”

He made a dismissive noise.

Well, now she’d botched matters. The stubborn fool would rather dive off a cliff than admit to a little pain. He certainly wasn’t going to rise to his feet now.

He groaned a little, nuzzling her thigh. His big hand cupped her bottom. “You wanted this, remember? You said you’d bring me to my knees.”

Of course she’d wanted him on his knees. Begging, pleading. Acknowledging her power over him. And now she had him doing exactly that—but something had gone all wrong. She was the one being conquered.

“Just kisses,” he said, framing her waist in his hands and pulling the fabric of her shift taut. “Just kisses, I swear. Let me show you how good it can be. I know exactly what you need.”

He pressed his open mouth to the linen covering her cleft. His tongue darted out, stroking her straight through the fabric, circling over that small, secret place that could bring her so much pleasure. Bliss forked through her, and her knees buckled.

Her breath caught, and she clutched wildly at his shoulders. “Bram, I can’t . . .”

His hands tightened about her waist. Pausing briefly, he murmured, “I have you. You’re safe with me. I won’t let you fall.”

“But—”

“Do you want me to stop?”

She couldn’t make herself answer.

His husky laugh teased her in unbearable ways. “I didn’t think so.”

He applied himself with purpose now, stroking more firmly with his tongue. Waves of pleasure pushed through her, and she surrendered to them, going limp in his strong embrace. With his shoulder, he gently prodded her knee to the side, spreading her wide to his kiss. Exquisite sensation mounted higher and higher. The moist heat of his mouth mingled with the dew of her arousal. Dampness surged between her legs.

His attentions centered on that sensitive, swollen bud at the crest of her sex. He licked and stroked and nibbled until she was helpless with pleasure. The muscles in her thighs began to quiver. A whimper eased from her throat.

And the world began to constrict. The remote din of music and laughter faded. The wind ceased to blow. Everything was forgotten. Nothing existed but the two of them: his wicked, talented mouth and her intense, spiraling joy. He pushed her higher and higher, until she tumbled straight over the edge into a soul-shaking climax.

She cried out with it, rocked by waves of pleasure.

As she came back to herself, he held her tight, pressing his brow to her belly and whispering soothing words. His thumbs sketched comforting circles on the small of her back.

She sank to her knees, and he pulled her down to the ground. There they lay beneath the willow tree, their limbs tangled and knotted as tree roots. Their combined breath made a little cloud of fog—as if they had their own sky hanging over them, here in this world apart.

He flexed his strong arms, drawing her close. It wasn’t until he had her molded against his chest, surrounded by his heat, that she realized she was trembling.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her brow.

She wasn’t afraid, just . . . overwhelmed. What did this mean to him? What did it mean to her? Just kisses, she reminded herself. To him, these were just kisses. He didn’t want romantic attachments.

Don’t get any ideas, she sternly told her heart.

“Don’t be frightened,” he told her. “You’re so passionate. So beautiful. There’s so much more I could show you. So much pleasure we could share.”

“Tell me,” she heard herself say.

She didn’t know what possessed her to play innocent. Susanna certainly understood the concept of intercourse, if not from personal experience. She knew what the books said about coitus and human reproduction, and she’d worked alongside midwives, and she heard how the scullery maids giggled and gossiped among themselves. But she wanted to hear what it meant to him. What he thought it would mean between them.

He took her hand and brought it to his body, cupping her palm over the bulge tenting his breeches’s fall. “Feel this?”

She nodded. How could she fail to feel it? It wasn’t precisely a negligible size.