She bit back a giggle at the memory of the sampler she’d made for Daisy last Christmas. It read,Life is often a badly stuffed sausage. Daisy had hung it on the wall of her office at King & Co., and most visitors assumed it meant something very profound, instead of being a joking reference to disappointing male genitalia.
“Are you planning to swim?” Thornton’s voice broke into her reverie.
“Goodness, no! The water’s absolutely freezing, even in the height of summer. It comes straight down off the hills. But it’s wonderfully clear.”
She spread out the rug she’d tucked beneath her arm. “I thought we could just have a picnic.”
She patted the place next to her and he lowered the basket she’d insisted he carry from the cart. She peered inside, amused to note that Mrs. Ward hadn’t abandonedher theme of foods conducive to romance. A bottle of champagne, some strawberries, and a loaf of bread joined a jar of honey, a wedge of local cheese, and a slice of cold meat pie wrapped in a cloth.
Justin let out a snort. “How many people did you tell them you were inviting? You could feed half of Wellington’s army with that. In fact, I’ve sailed across the Atlantic with fewer provisions.”
Tess laughed and held out two glasses. He opened the champagne with a pop, and she wrinkled her nose as she took a sip and the bubbles tickled their way down her throat.
She broke off a hunk of bread and ate some, and she was halfway through her second strawberry when she sensed him watching her. She turned her head, and her heart did a little flip as he sent her that wicked smile she’d come to recognize as trouble of the finest sort.
He took the strawberry from her fingers. “Allow me.”
He stole a bite of the fruit himself, then offered it to her, and his pupils darkened as she parted her lips and took a bite.
“I’ve dreamed about this wicked mouth of yours.” He leaned in and kissed the strawberry juice from her lips. “Please tell me your collection of naughty prints includes a picture of a woman pleasuring a man with her mouth.”
Tess’s heart began to pound, but she didn’t feign ignorance. She’d glimpsed just such a thing in Case’s collection, and it had piqued her curiosity to an unholy degree.
Daisy claimed that whatever felt good to Tess would be equally pleasurable to her partner, and considering how much she enjoyed Justin kissing her, down there, it seemed logical that he might like the same.
Tess gave him a little push, taking the initiative, and he rolled onto his back without the slightest bit ofresistance. She followed him down, continuing their kiss, and he groaned when she moved on top of him, her chest pressed to his.
He tasted of champagne.
Delighted that he was letting her take the lead, she kissed her way down his jaw to his chin, sliding her hands over the swells of his chest and abdomen until she reached his falls. She cupped him through the fabric, thrilled that he was so hard, so ready for her.
He let out a labored breath, almost a laugh. “Perfect, naughty duchess.”
With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned his falls and he sighed as she clasped his bare skin. “God, yes.”
Tess bit back a smile. She’d held him in her hand like this at Careby’s, in the dark, but now she was at full leisure to explore. He threaded his fingers through her hair as she slid down his body and settled herself between his thighs.
When she lowered her lips and kissed him, he hissed out a breath and rocked his hips. Hesitant at first, she pressed kisses along his warm flesh, loving the dichotomy of soft skin and hard muscle. She gave the tip a tentative lick.
“Bloody Hell. That’s good.”
Blood was pounding in her temples and her whole body felt warm, as if his pleasure was somehow transferring itself to her. A heady sense of victory, of power made her dizzy.He loved what she was doing!
Buoyed by his reaction, she opened her lips and took him inside her mouth and he clutched her head with a smothered sound of pleasure. Tess closed her eyes, remembering how he’d teased her with the maple syrup, and swirled her tongue.
She lifted her head. “Say my name.”
His groan of frustration echoed through the trees. “Tease!”
Tess smiled up at him, wicked and wanton. “Can’t you remember?” She gave him another taunting lick, loving the salty taste of him. He thrust into her hand. “I’ll give you a clue: it’s not Scarlet.”
In a lightning move, he rolled them both over onto the grass, and she let out a startled shriek at his unexpected ambush. There was no escape; his hands rucked up her skirts and she wriggled—but only to assist him, as desperate for him as he was for her.
He didn’t remove her drawers. He simply found the slit in the fabric and pressed into her in one smooth slide that made both of them catch their breath.
For an instant he stilled, savoring the moment, and then he caught her thigh, urging her leg up and around his hips. The perfection of the fit, the way his body matched hers in every curve and hollow, made her bite her lip in wonder.
He raised himself up on his forearms, still pressed deep within her, and smoothed his thumb over her lips.
