“No.” A tiny smirk wavered on his lips, the tension between them softening. “You don’t have your spectacles on anyway. I’ve no desire to see you squinting at me the entire time.”
“Very well.” She sighed. “Just get on with it.” Theo lay back in the tub, not bothering to cover herself. The wine had made her very brave indeed.
One long finger slid up the soapy slope of her breast, barely touching the skin. The tip glanced lightly against her nipple, rubbing softly against the small peak. It was delicious torture. The best kind.
She bit her lip to keep from moaning with pleasure. “I’m not going to enjoy this.”
“Probably not,” he said, pinching the taut peak. “I’ve never had the least complaint before, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”
“I’ll imagine Blythe the entire time,” she said half-heartedly, hating the jealousy at the very thought of all those unnamed seductive ladies who had bedded Haven. It was bad enough feeling second best to Violet Emerson.
“Even though he doesn’t want you?” Haven said quietly, teeth grazing the slope of her neck. “And I do?”
“Haven—” Her breath caught on his name. His hand floated over Theo’s stomach, fingers lightly stroking her skin. When his mouth fell to hers in a slow, deliberate kiss, Haven left no doubt of his intentions. His fingers tangled in the hair of her mound before moving gently across her slit.
The featherlight caress was exquisite. Theo’s legs widened in slow inches, her hips brushing up against his fingertips, begging him silently for more. “I feel nothing,” she whimpered.
“Oh, my dear wife. Now who isn’t being honest?” Haven placed his free hand possessively around her neck, squeezing gently, warning her not to move. “I fear there is no escape from the horrible, fortune-hunting marquess you were forced to marry.” His fingers moved leisurely against her in the water in light, teasing waves.
“No, I don’t suppose there is.” Her hips rotated against his hand, wanting more of the bliss radiating from the spot between her thighs. The tips of her breasts breached the water of the tub, the tiny buds taut and sensitive.
A low purr lingered over her neck. “The miniature, while a work of art, did not do your bosom justice. But I’m not sure you got the color of your nipples correct.”
A tremble went through her as one of his fingers sunk deep and slow, curling gently inside her, before retreating to glide around the delicate nub, aching for his touch. Pausing, he pinched the sensitive flesh between his fingers, oh so gently, before resuming his teasing path to her core.
Theo gave into everything, the decadent pleasure coiling within her, Haven’s scent filling her nostrils, the feel of his teeth grazing her neck.
“Who are you thinking of now, Theodosia?” he growled. “Don’t you dare lie.”
“You.” The word broke across her lips. Haven’s fingers drew out the most exquisite sensations. She was close to begging, wanting desperately to reach the summit he dangled before her. Something Theo knew would be marvelous.
He pressed a kiss to her lips before speaking again, his voice thick. “I told you I wanted you from the moment you spilled ratafia on my coat. I adore your spectacles. I often imagine you wearing them and little else. Your talent with a brush leaves me awestruck.”
“And my dowry,” she whispered.
A wrinkle marred his brow. “I will be honest and admit it. But my want of you, Theodosia,” he paused to press a kiss to the tip of one breast, “which is bloody considerable, has absolutely nothing to do with your dowry. One does not preclude the other. I liken it to finding out that the ripe berries I’ve been eyeing—”
A tremor rippled over Theo’s skin, sinking deep into her bones.
“—come with a large helping of fresh cream.”
A hoarse whimper came from her. “Please, Haven.”
“I have never,” wickedness imbued his words, “wanted anything so much as you, Theodosia Barrington.” The heat of an open-mouthed kiss pressed against her throat. “Never question it. Anything but that. Promise me.”
Theo would have agreed to anything if Haven allowed the pleasure curling tightly between her legs to uncoil. “I promise.”
His mouth fell on hers, hard and possessive, taking what little breath was left in her body as his thumb pressed against her, releasing a wave of sensation.
The water splashed out of the tub, covering the floor as she arched, eyes closing as her hips pushed upward. His mouth trapped her cry of pleasure, his fingers never once halting in their torture, pulling every bit of sensation out of her body and leaving her gasping for breath.
With a predatory growl, Haven dragged her from the tub, hefting her to his side like a large, dripping wet bag of grain. He pressed her down on the bed, his hands running possessively over the freckles spraying up toward her collarbone, then between her breasts to her stomach, his fingers tangling in the soft hair of her mound.
“Jesus,you’re beautiful.” The words were filled with reverence.
“So are you,” she answered.
“You can’t see at all, can you?” One side of his mouth lifted. He didn’t look away from her as he shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it to the chair. His thumbs hooked into his trousers and pulled them off, watching her carefully.
