The Earl's Daughter by Cassie Lyons Read Free Book Online Page A

hand as she rose from the floor, and led him to the bed. When she felt his hand in her hair, her entire body tingled, everything from her ears to her toes.
    “Are you sure this is what you want?” Peter tugged at the ends of her hair as he whispered the question. “You won't regret it?”
    “Never.” Her fingers brushed his lips, which she longed to kiss. “I could never regret being with you.”
    “But is it what you really want?” he asked again. “I don't want to take advantage of your sorrow.”
    “You're not taking advantage of anything,” Sylvie assured him. “You are merely fulfilling the heartfelt wish of a woman who is desperate to have your hands on her.” When the words were out of her mouth, heat rushed into her cheeks. She never imagined she could utter such scandalous words—and certainly not to a man who drove carriages for a living. “I only ask that you be gentle with me. I... I am sure you know I have never done anything like this before.”
    “I had gathered as much.”
    “And...” Sylvie continued reluctantly, “Robert is the only man I have ever kissed. He was the only man I ever expected to kiss, truth be told, and--”
    Suddenly, Peter's lips were on hers, silencing her. His lips were soft and his mouth was warm, and the sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She felt a throbbing deep inside her, and it was a very pleasant feeling. When Sylvie moaned against his mouth, the kiss deepened. His tongue flitted out to taste her lips, and his hand flew to her hip. He pulled up her dress slightly, gathering the material at her thighs.
    Peter pressed his lips against her forehead and murmured against her skin. “You're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”
    “I'm not,” she objected. “Not really.”
    “Only my opinion matters... and I think you're lovely.” Peter tugged Sylvie's gown from her shoulder and trickled his lips across her bare skin.
    “I'm... nervous,” she confessed.
    Peter gently took her hand and cradled it a few seconds before kissing her inner wrist. “I'll take care of you.” When he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor beside the bed, an involuntary moan escaped from her lips.
    “You are... disrobing, I see,” Sylvie quietly observed.
    “I am. Generally, the act requires the removal of one's clothes.”
    “And... my gown...” She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat. “You will... remove it?”
    “If you'll let me.” When he saw her nod, Peter proceeded to peel her gown from her body. Her bosom heaved against her undergarments, which were strained by her heavy breaths. “You're breathtaking.”
    “I... ohhh...” As anxious as she was, it was impossible to manage a sensible thought.
    “Have you changed your mind?”
    “No.” Her answer was firm. “I want this. I want this very much.”
    When Peter tugged off his breeches, her eyes swelled. She never thought she would be in a bed with a man in his unmentionables—unless he was her husband, of course. She felt utterly unprepared for what was to come. There was a curious wetness forming between her legs—a spot that had always remained untouched, even by her. Her anticipation for what was to come had a suffocating effect on her.
    “Please tell me if I do anything you disapprove of,” Peter said. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”
    Sylvie was so transfixed by the sight of his body, she barely heard him speak. It was dark, but she could make out the contours of his body. His build was average, but athletic, and she longed to feel his skin against hers. She thought he looked a bit reluctant, so with trembling fingers, she removed her own petticoats.
    His fingers worked their way up her legs, encircling her calves, and gently kneading her thighs. Sylvie unfastened her bodice as Peter removed the last of her undergarments. When she was laying naked before him, she clamped her legs together and resisted the temptation to cover her nipples. She felt