Page 77 of The Duke's Rules Of Engagement
She gazed up at him, knowing her face was open with all her feelings for this man and, at the moment, not caring at all. She tightened her embrace, but he grasped her forearms and pulled her arms down to her sides before running his fingers up her sleeves to her shoulders, leaving a trail of heat up her skin that made her shudder.
“Turn around, Jo,” he said. “I want to see the rest of you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Matthew couldn’t believe Jo was here, in his bedchamber, pliant as he turned her so her back faced him. He gently moved that thick mass of beautiful hair to the side, revealing the white, cloth-covered buttons of her dress.
She was a dream. So unlike other women he’d bedded, but as soon as the thought of other women entered, it left his head, leaving his mind filled with only Jo, this magnificent woman standing before him, her beauty, her clear gray eyes, her openness and curiosity, her sweet heat and desire, her beguiling mix of innocence and worldly wisdom.
He bent down and kissed her neck, running his lips over the softness of her skin as he unbuttoned her dress. He worked carefully, though in all honesty, he wanted to rip the damn thing open, followed by all the layers beneath.
This might be the only opportunity he’d have to be with Jo. No, itwasthe only opportunity. Hadn’t she said that? He was going to draw it out as long as he could, enjoy every single moment, every obstacle he had to struggle through to get to all of her.
So he kissed her as he worked, loving the feel of her dewy skin beneath his lips.
Finally, her dress gaped open, and he turned her around to carefully work the sleeves down her arms. He trailed his hands over her body as he pushed it off her and helped her step out of it.
Now, on to her petticoat. It came off comparatively quickly, only one little tie at the waist. By then, her breaths were coming out in short gasps, and her knees were quivering. He led her to a chair near the fireplace and, after quickly getting the fire going so she’d stay warm, he tugged her onto his knee as he worked the laces of her stays and pulled them from her body, trailing kisses over the back of her pale shoulder and arm.
Finally, he plucked the string at the top of her spine and lifted her shift over her head.
She looked up at him with lips slightly parted, naked except for her stockings, ribbon garters, and half boots.
He could hardly breathe. She was so goddamn beautiful she’d sucked all the air from his lungs. He knew he was the first man who’d ever seen her like this. That she’d bestowed this gift only on him. And he was so honored, so overcome by that and by her loveliness, he could do nothing but stare at her for a long moment.
Shifting uncomfortably, she curled her hands into fists at her sides. She licked her lips again—God, did she know what that did to him?—and then said in a husky voice, “What’s wrong?”
Did she really think something was wrong? Everything was soright, he could hardly bear it. He shook his head in a jerking motion.
“Nothing, sweetheart. Nothing is wrong. It’s just…” He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. “You are the most perfect thing I have ever seen.”
His voice was so raw and honest, she must have known he hadn’t lied, or even exaggerated. For the first time since he’d met her, the wordperfectfinally worked. It matched her…perfectly.
He reverently touched her breast, running his fingers over the soft, plump side of it and then over the taut bud of her nipple. She groaned softly but shook her head and pulled back. Her gaze raked over him, up and down, so hot he felt like her eyes had burned the clothes right off his body. “I want to see you first.”
Reaching up, she skimmed his cheek with her fingertips, then trailed her touch down the side of his neck and to his cravat.
She took her time untying his cravat, then slipped it off, the fabric sweeping coolly over his neck. She unbuttoned his coat and waistcoat, then pushed both off his shoulders and over his arms. Before she could touch his shirt, he reached behind his head and pulled it off, leaving his chest bare to her heated gaze…and to her touch. Her hands were suddenly all over him, hot and questing, exploring every contour of his chest and his arms, brushing over his nipples and traveling down his belly to where the arrow of dark hair disappeared beneath the waist of his trousers.
He was already close to coming, his cock near bursting against his falls. He shuddered hard, and then his hands were on her body, too, cupping her breasts, then moving lower until he gripped her waist, where he paused as her fingers desperately worked the buttons of his trousers. Finally, they gaped open, and they both stood and pushed them down. Matthew pressed his cock against his lower stomach as the trousers dropped down to his ankles and he awkwardly kicked them off, along with his shoes.
They straightened.
“Move your hand away,” she whispered, eyes riveted to his cock.
Swallowing hard, he did as she asked, and it bobbed forward eagerly—and rather uncomfortably. She stared at it, chewing on her lower lip. When she looked back up at him, her eyes wide, she murmured, “It’s…huge.”
He laughed, though it came out strangled. This woman was going to kill him. “Just what every man wants to hear,” he managed.
“Is it truly?”
“It is.”
“Honestly, I’m a bit afraid of it.”
He pulled her against him, pressing her breasts and his cock between them. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I have one goal, and one goal alone.”
“What’s that?”
