Trusting the Rogue by Danielle Lisle Read Free Book Online Page B

enjoying her soft moans and how her body leaned into his barely there touch.
    He walked around her, allowing his hands to shape her body, exploring her through the many layers of her clothing. Those needed to go. It was dark, and while he could see shadows, the ties of a dress were delicate and could not be rushed. That thought too spoke of the woman now before him—Andrew realised for once in his life, he was in no hurry for self-gratification. Oh, he wanted her—uncontrollably so—but he would savour her, pleasure her. There would not be a moment wasted this night.
    While he moved the fingers of one hand to her buttons, he mapped her body with the others, lingering in contact with her skin as he found flesh exposed by her sagging gown. She leaned deeper into him, the little sounds emerging from her lips fuelling the fire within him, moment by moment.
    Soon the dress had pooled at her feet. One layer gone, yet more to go. The ties of her corset slowly released at the sure command of his fingers. The boned garment sagged about her before he pushed it down. Her thin shift followed before her naked back was exposed to him.
    He moved the tips of his fingers to the lower curve of her back, just above the crease of her rounded bottom. He ran them leisurely up the arch of her smooth spine, fascinated by the texture, softness and sweet smell of her clean skin.
    Was there nothing about her that he did not find divine?
    Her hair was pinned high upon her head. He wanted it free, to feel its texture. Though the darkness deprived him of the ability to observe her pleasure, he would allow all his other senses full view, to witness her beauty and marvel at its loveliness.
    One by one, he plucked the pins free, one hand still roaming over her delicate flesh. He slid his fingers along the gentle ripple of her ribs to her side until he reached the plump softness of her breasts. Her breathing stalled, as did his hand, before he moved it along the underside of the softness. Her breath soon turned choppy, her chest rising and falling. He allowed his knuckles to gently graze the hardened tips of her nipples, but offered her no more. Not yet.
    The smooth strands upon her head were now free, the discarded pins lining the floor. It was his turn.
    Moving around her, Andrew stood before her naked form. He needed her the way he needed air. Without her, it felt as if he would cease to exist.
    He untied the cravat about his neck, then allowed it to drop. He moved his fingers to the buttons of his waistcoat, before he shrugged it off, his gaze fixed on Hannah’s shadowed features. He knew she observed his movements—her breathing deepened as each piece of clothing hit the floor beneath them, as his shirt did a moment later.
    Andrew reached for her then, curving his hands about her hips as she took a step towards him. She pressed into him, her softness melting against the firmness of his body, his cock stiff between them. Warmth filled him as he felt her against him—it was right. It was where she belonged.
    He could hold back no longer. He would have her, claim her as his. Show her pleasure, joy and passion.
    Claiming her lips for the first time was a more potent sensation than he had ever expected. The softness as they connected with his own sent a spiral of need through him, a desire to toss her on the bed and to experience passion at its heart, but she was not ready for that. He must treat her as a maiden, a woman green to the art of sex, not a woman ready to experience all the pleasures a man and a woman could create together. Later that would come—he refused to think of any other possibility—but now he would please her, his pleasure coming from hers.
    Hannah slid her hands to his chest as their mouths danced, her hesitant touch soon turning stronger, more confident as the moments progressed. Andrew kept his tongue hidden until she embraced his lips with hers, meeting his kiss with her own. Slowly he allowed his tongue to slide across her