Page 59 of The Favourite

Jane blinked. That was a bit much. She glanced down uncertainly at her pale, bare torso. No, nothing had changed. Her breasts had not magically transformed into anything remotely impressive. She had seen far larger ones about court, even when only the top halves had been showing above a low-cut gown.

The only remarkable thing about them was possibly the unsightly blotches of red that were dotted about her skin. Still, Alisander’s fingers trembled where they lay against her sensitive skin. His breathing seemed almost labored at this point, as though he was struggling with something.

“Jane,” he said harshly. “Can I move my hand?”

“Of course,” Jane said, thinking he must have tired of it and meant to remove it. To her shock, he slid it down and cupped her right breast. “Oh!”

“Is this permitted?” he asked swiftly.

“I—yes,” she said, feeling a fresh surge of embarrassment.

“The red does not go down beyond your bosom,” he commented lightly.

“Er, no,” she agreed, staring past his shoulder.

“Your breasts are so soft.” Again his words were hushed and almost awed. He stroked a thumb across her nipple and Jane nearly jumped out of her skin. “Except for these impudent nipples,” he murmured.

“That … that sometimes happens when it is cold,” Jane whispered, feeling mortified.

“They’re so pretty.”

Her nipples? Jane ventured another look at his face, but no, he was not looking at all sardonic. He was in deadly earnest. She could not help it, she had to take another look, but she did not expect the jolt that ran through her, seeing his hand curved about her breast. It affected her powerfully and made her feel peculiar all over.

“Jane, can I kiss you?”

“Kiss me?”

“You sound so astounded,” he replied with a short laugh, and to Jane’s surprise, she felt herself relax a little to hear that hint of teasing in his voice once more.

“Well, yes,” she gulped.

“Yes, you’re astounded, or yes, I can kiss you?”

“Well—both,” she conceded, and no sooner were the words out of her mouth, than he was lowering his mouth to hers. She thought she knew what was coming from a kiss at least, but this kiss was different to the one he had bestowed upon her on their marriage.

After a moment of hot breath and the brushing of their mouths together, it dawned on her that he wanted something more than just the sealing of their lips. What though? Her mind turned blank as he dragged his lips across hers more roughly this time, more insistently.

Something else too … had he moistened his lips with his tongue? The kiss felt wetter. His hand closed about her breast and squeezed. Jane jolted against the mattress, and he rolled more firmly atop her to anchor her in place. He was all around her; he surrounded her.

His cool skin was pressed against hers. She could feel the light scattering of his chest hair rub against her sensitive breasts. She should feel overwhelmed by him, but the strange thing was, that she did not. She could not possibly like this, could she?

His other hand had slipped between the pillows at her back, and was caressing her there, urging her closer still. She closed her eyes and whimpered. He drew back. “Put your arms about me, Jane. I need to feel your embrace.”

Strangely, the thought of that still managed to fluster her. Her arms were clumsy as they closed about his back. He shivered slightly. “Yes,” he groaned. “Like that. But tighter. And open your mouth, I’m begging you.”

Open her mouth? His lips were on hers again, insistent, and almost desperate. He tore his mouth from hers again. “Please?” he asked roughly. Jane found herself nodding at the appeal in his eyes. He groaned as he crushed his lips to hers once more, and when Jane parted her own, she felt the dart of his tongue dipping inside. She froze, but almost immediately, it was withdrawn with a flicker against her lips, like that of a snake.

Jane gasped, and his tongue was back again, bolder this time, sweeping her mouth, but withdrawn by the time she had stiffened once more with shock. This time, he caught her bottom lip between his teeth and gently nibbled her there. “Fuck, Jane,” he groaned. “Tell me you like this. Tell me you like kissing me.”

“I don’t know,” she gasped. He tried to draw back, and she tightened her arms about him at once to prevent him.

“About which part?” he asked gruffly.

“The tongue,” she admitted. “It feels … oh, I don’t know.”

“Hmmm.” To her relief, he did not look disappointed in her. “Mayhap, you should let me ply it elsewhere,” he suggested, pressing light kisses along her jaw.

“Where?” Jane found herself asking, foolishly.