Page 63 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
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Elliot had triedall through dinner to remember Charlotte was his employer—his client. She was not an enticing woman who smelled like summer flowers, in a gown that dipped low enough for him to get ideas about uncovering interesting parts of her body. She smiled at him in such a way when he handed her a glass of sherry that he wanted to snatch it back from her and crush her body to his.
The air had crackled between them from the time he’d handed her a drink before dinner. He was sure she sensed it, too. It had been obvious in the way she’d drawn her hand back from his, as if she’d been burned. Although dinner had been pleasant, and the conversation lively, every time her eyes had met his, he’d felt it again.
He handed her a drink and settled alongside her. He rested his arm across the back of the settee, lightly skimming the smooth skin at the back of her neck with his fingertips. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes.
Elliot studied her as he took a sip of his brandy, then placed the glass down on the table in front of them, never taking his gaze from her. When she didn’t push his hand away, he used his thumb and index finger to encircle her neck, rubbing lightly. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes.” She practically hummed the word. She rotated her neck, and he shifted so he was closer, cursing the blasted arm in a sling, keeping him from pulling her against him so he could feel her fully.
She was all gold and beauty in the light reflected from the fireplace. Her plump lips were lightly pursed, begging for him to kiss them. His eyes were riveted on her generous breasts as they rose and fell in rhythm with his fingers manipulating the flesh at her neck. He leaned in, and left whispers of kisses against the silky skin on her neck.
To his surprise, she turned to him, placing her lips only a fraction of an inch from his. Taking that as an invitation, his mouth covered hers gently, feathering kisses on her lips, then moving to her jaw, the sensitive skin behind her ear.
She sighed and moved closer. When his mouth slid back to her lips, he looked at her, her eyes now open, half-lidded, dark with need.
He plucked the glass of sherry from her fingers and placed it alongside his glass. She watched him, the tip of her pink tongue licking her lips. When her eyes dropped to his mouth, he used his one good arm to tug her to him, breasts to chest, mouth to mouth, fitting them together like puzzle pieces. His control was slight, he could barely hang onto his restraint. He had to slow down, or he would frighten her. Hell, his desire for her almost scared him. Grasping her jaw, he turned her head to take the kiss deeper, consuming her, taking command of her mouth in a savage possession, marking her as his.
Elliot nudged her lips with his tongue and grunted his satisfaction when she opened, and he slid his tongue into the moistness and warmth of her mouth. She tasted like sherry, and mint, and all woman.
His woman.
He was delighted when her tongue joined his and they warred like long-time lovers, touching and tasting. He nipped her lower lip, then soothed the place with butterfly kisses.
Charlotte drew back, leaving him bereft. Hopefully, she had not decided to call an end to their enjoyment. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Do you wish to stop?”
She hesitated, but only for a moment. “No, I don’t believe so.”
Before she could re-consider, he gently touched her lovely face with his good hand and returned his attention to her lips. Plump, moist, sweet. He could not get enough. So many men spoke of how they used a kiss or two as a minor prelude to the other more important parts of love making. To Elliot, kisses had always been a wonderful thing in themselves.
Charlotte’s gentle sighs spurred him to keep his hand busy while he enjoyed the pleasures to be had in her mouth. He smoothly cupped her breast, weighing it with his hand, flicking his thumb over her already taut nipple. Her sighs turned to moans, imploring him to slip his hand into the top of her bodice. He moved his fingers under her breast and massaged.
His lips brushed hers as he spoke. “The time has come, Charlotte. No more games. I want you and it’s obvious you want me. Tonight is the night I intend to take you to bed.”
