Genevieve’s heart pounded in her chest, her breath catching in her throat as she leaned into his touch.
“Nor I,” she confessed, her voice barely audible above the rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels.
His lips claimed hers, urgent and unrelenting.
Genevieve was trembling with desire. Her fingers itched to tear his shirt off him, her body aching for his touch.
She craved the feel of his breath on her skin, his hands exploring every inch of her, and his throbbing member buried deep inside of her.
Wilhelm’s hands roamed over her gown, his touch delicate yet deliberate, while her fingers tugged at the collar of his white linen shirt, exposing more of his skin. She tilted her head back, offering her neck to him, and a tremor coursed through her as his tongue trailed slowly over her skin, tormenting her.
“More,” she moaned softly, her breath hitching as his hand brushed the dewy skin of her inner thigh.
“Patience, love,” he whispered in her ear. “Just a little longer. We are nearly there.”
The carriage thundered through the night, its wheels rattling over the cobblestones as the landscape rushed past.
As soon as the carriage reached the manor, Wilhelm scooped Genevieve up in his arms and rushed through the front door, up the staircase, and into his bedchamber.
Before she could fully get her bearings, she found herself lying on the plush mattress in his room, bathed in the silvery glow of the moonlight.
Her heart raced as Wilhelm shrugged off his coat and waistcoat, revealing the chiseled lines of his torso, each movement mesmerizing.
His eyes were smoldering with unquenched desire.
As he joined her on the bed, his fingers deftly loosened the laces of her corset.
“I told you I could not wait to untie this,” he grinned seductively.
Leaning down, he captured one breast in his mouth, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles around her nipple in a way that made her squeeze her thighs together.
Lost in the throes of lust, her senses heightened, and her body engulfed in flames, Genevieve quivered uncontrollably as his lips and tongue traced and tasted every inch of her skin.
Through half-closed lids, she realized that the moonlight had illuminated a series of long, faint lines that were etched across his back.
What is?—
That thought evaporated as he gripped her hips, lifted her, and thrust into herhard.
Her moans grew louder with each movement until her body erupted into a series of ecstatic fireworks.
As comfortable silence fell over them, Genevieve lay on his chest, inhaling the scent of his skin, her fingers drawing gentle circles on his torso.
A memory flashed through her satiated mind, causing her half-closed eyes to snap open.
“Wilhelm,” she whispered softly against his skin.
“Hmm?” he murmured, his eyes still closed.
“What are those?” She lifted her head slightly.
He blinked his eyes open as he looked at her. “What are what?”
She bit her lip, then sat up. “Those… marks. On your back.”
Wilhelm stiffened and rolled onto his back. “They are nothing,” he said tightly, his face shrouded by the darkness.
Genevieve’s heart ached. She rolled him to his side and gently traced his scars, which stood slightly above the rest of his smooth skin.
