Lord of Scoundrels - Loretta Chase [95]
Darling. The room was whirling merrily about him.
"I wanted to be sensible," she went on. "I didn't want to bother you. I knew it would lead to trouble. But I couldn't help it. You are so…virile. You are so thoroughly a male. You're big and strong and you can pick me up with one hand. I cannot describe what an extraordinary sensation that is."
Virile he understood. He was that. He also understood there was no accounting for tastes. Until she'd come along, he'd always been attracted to largish women. Very well, then. Her tastes inclined to big, strong men. He was certainly that, too.
"I'd heard all about you," she said. "I thought I was prepared. But no one had described you properly. I was expecting a gorilla." She drew her index finger down his nose. "You were not supposed to have the face of a dé Medici prince. You were not supposed to have the physique of a Roman god. I wasn't prepared for that. I had no defenses ready." With a small sigh, she brought her hands to his shoulders. "I still haven't. Physically, I cannot resist you at all."
He tried to find a place in his dictionary under "Dain" for dé Medici princes and Roman gods, but the phrases fit nowhere, and merely contemplating them made him want to howl with laughter. Or weep. He couldn't decide which. He decided he was becoming hysterical. He wasn't surprised. She had a knack for doing that to him.
He stood up. "No need to worry, Jess. Lust is no problem. Lust I can deal with very well, thank you."
"I know." She eyed him up and down. "You deal with it to perfection."
"In fact, I'm prepared to deal with it this very minute." He began heaping pillows against the headboard.
"That is most…understanding of you," she said, her glance darting from the pillows to him.
He patted the heap. "I want you to lie here."
"Naked?"
He nodded.
Without the smallest hesitation, she stood up and undid the sash of her dressing gown. He watched the robe fall open. She gave a lazy shrug.
Femme fatale, he thought as, entranced, he watched the heavy black silk slither down past her slim shoulders, over the creamy skin and achingly feminine curves, and fall with a sensuous hiss at her feet.
He watched the graceful movement of her slight body as she climbed onto the bed and settled back against the pillows, unashamed, uninhibited, unafraid.
"I almost wish I could be naked all the time," she said softly. "I love the way you look at me."
"You mean the panting and salivating?" He untied his own sash.
"I mean that sleepy, sulky look you get." She laid her hand upon her belly. "It makes my insides hot and muddled."
He flung off his dressing gown.
She inhaled sharply.
His swelling shaft sprang up, just as though she'd called to it. Dain looked down and laughed. "You want virile. Virile you get."
"And big and strong." Her voice was husky. Her softened grey gaze traveled up and down his frame. "And beautiful. How the devil was I to resist you? How could you think I could?"
"I didn't realize you were so shallow." He climbed onto the bed and straddled her legs.
"I suppose it's just as well," she said. "Otherwise…" She slid her hand up his thigh. "Oh, Dain, if you had guessed what was going through my mind when I met you…"
Gently but firmly he removed her hand and set it upon the mattress. "Tell me."
"In my mind, I took off all your clothes. I couldn't help it. It was a dreadful few moments. I was terrified my reason would snap, and I'd actually do it. There, in the shop. In front of Champtois. In front of Bertie."
"You took off my clothes," he said. "In your mind."
"Yes. Ripped them off, actually. As I did a short while ago."
He bent over her. "Do you want to know what went through my mind, cara?"
"Something equally depraved, I hope." She stroked his chest. Again he took her hand away.
"I wanted…to…lick you," he said slowly. "From the top of your head…to the tips of your toes."
She shut her eyes. "Depraved, yes."
"I wanted to lick you and kiss you and touch you…everywhere." He kissed her forehead. "Everywhere