Page 67 of When the Scoundrel Sins

“Don’t worry,” he murmured teasingly against her throat as his lips kissed lower. “I do.”

“Quinton!” She smacked her palm against his shoulder to get his attention, then repeated softly with a bit of embarrassment, “I don’t know what to do.”

He lifted his mouth from her neck and cupped her face delicately in his hands. In the shadows, his face was solemn. “Nervous, Belle?”

She nodded. At her silent acknowledgment, he tenderly touched his lips to hers.

“If it helps,” he admitted, “I’m nervous, too.”

That did help…but not much. Compared to those experienced ladies in London, he must think her a boring, backward dolt.

He brushed his thumb slowly back and forth across her bottom lip in a caress that was more soothing than seductive, yet still left her craving more. “I’ll teach you, all right?”

She nodded jerkily, feeling like a wanton for wanting exactly that—for Quinn to instruct her in all the arts of intimacy, so she could bring him the same pleasures he brought to her.

“It’s simple,” he assured her. “There’s only one rule.”

Rules? Dear God, there wererulesto this? A new panic sprung up inside her, and she felt like an utter cake as she asked, “Which is?”

“You can do anything you want. If it feels good to you, do it. And if it feels good to me…” He grinned. “Do it twice.”

She laughed, and the nervousness ebbed from her, replaced by a happy anticipation that tickled at her toes. Only Quinn could make her laugh at such an important moment in her life. And her heart sang because of him.

His grin faded as he stroked his knuckles across her cheek. “You’ll be ruined.”

That no longer mattered. She’d come to her decision. Tonight would be the first and only time she would ever give herself to a man.

Leaning forward, her mouth captured his as she tried to convey all of that to him. She poured every ounce of her aching heart and soul into that kiss, singular in its importance and in the overwhelming love she felt for him.

Tender and sweet, with the tantalizing promise of more, his lips caressed hers in equal measure of both demanding and coaxing for her to deepen the kiss. So she did exactly that, slipping her tongue tentatively between his lips to explore the spicy depths of his mouth and stroke her tongue along his, the same way he’d done to her.

He groaned. His arms clasped around her as he thrust his tongue between her lips in a rapid series of plunges and retreats that left her breathless and aching.

Oh, how much his kisses had changed from six years ago! There was none of the fumbling of before; now there were only smooth, masculine movements that savored at the same time that they intensified with growing arousal. While the eagerness was still there, now pulsing electrically through both of them, it had been tempered by time into a tantalizingly seductive control.

And a very wicked part of her wanted to make his control snap.

He’d urged her to do whatever felt good, so…“I think this would feel good,” she whispered as her hands slid down his chest to unbutton his waistcoat.

“It does,” he assured her between gentle nips of his teeth at her throat.

She laughed. “I meant for me!”

And it did. The brocade was soft and smooth beneath her fingertips as she pushed it open and down over his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. She trembled at the boldness of what she was doing. A secret thrill pulsed through her and landed deliciously between her thighs. Still, she wanted more.

“This, too,” she whispered, then did the same with his cravat, untying the long cloth of white silk and dropping it away.

She hesitated then, not knowing what to do next.

Sensing her uncertainty, he slid his hands up her back, where his clever fingers made quick work of unfastening her dress. The loose bodice sagged low over her breasts, and with a gasp, she crossed her arms over her chest, catching it before it fell away completely. She wasn’t wearing anything beneath the silk gown except for stockings, the tightly fitted bodice making both shift and stays unnecessary. A hot blush flushed her face as she realized what he must think of her, that she must be a wanton to dare to dress so boldly.

But when his hands slipped beneath the silk and caressed warmly over her bare back, all embarrassment fled, and she gained a new appreciation for her dressmaker.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered, brushing his mouth back and forth across her bare shoulder.

“Yes,” she admitted. Oh, a great deal!

She slowly relaxed and released her clamping hold over the bodice. And that—oh,thatwas the exact right thing to do, because his hands at her back slipped around to her front, somehow nudging the bodice down while simultaneously stroking in featherlight touches across the bare skin beneath. When his hands captured her breasts, she shrugged her shoulders and the bodice slipped down her arms and fell away, baring her from the waist up.