He closed the placket of his breeks and took her hand. He helped her to her feet and then stood beside her, staring down at her face. His attention locked on her lips, and he kissed her. It was a slow, sweet, delicious kiss that made her knees shake. “Come.” He tugged her hand, leading her to the bed. “I should go,” she said, but only because she thought she should. He chuckled. The sound rounded the room. “Do you really think I’m going to let you go? After that?” “But…” What more could they do? She had finished him. “Hush.” He threaded his fingers through her hair and cupped her face. His thumb traced her mouth in a warm trail. “Hush.” When he guided her down onto the mattress, she allowed it. His expression made clear he had plans for her, plans she would greatly enjoy. But he didn’t join her. Instead, he did what he’d done once before, easing off one slipper and then the other. A memory, a shudder racked her. He sat on the bed at her feet and nibbled on her toes, her ankle, her calf.
