She still had on her pretty embroidered shoes and stockings that stopped at the knee. He had touched the garter of one stocking but not undone it.
He struggled away from her, eager to prolong her pleasure and his own. One might make love with one’s eyes. Studying the beauty of Severin’s body, even letting her tease him by taking off her clothes herself before he continued to touch and stroke and lick—it would be a very great pleasure.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Nowhere,” he replied, sitting back on his haunches. “I only want to look at you like this.”
“As on the night we met,” she murmured. “I left you so frustrated—”
He patted her thigh. “Never mind that.”
Marko got off the bed and shucked most of his clothes at last, keeping his drawers on. She kicked off her shoes, laughing when he caught each one, and unrolled her stockings. “You will have to help me with this dress,” she said.
“Roll over.”
She did and he undid the fastenings at once. She could feel his hot breath on her bare back as he pushed the sides of the gown away from her body. She wore no corset.
“Roll over again. I mean, roll off the dress.” She did and he whisked it off the bed and away, tossing the crumpled silk into a heap upon the floor. “Ah. You are as beautiful as a nymph.”
Severin looked at him, as if, naked, he was glorious. All it would take is one touch, he thought wantonly. Her fingers. Her mouth. I will not be able to control myself. Her gaze moved up and she looked longingly into his eyes.
“Not yet, Severin,” was all he said.
She was eying him with sensual hunger. Stripped bare by him, lying upon her bed, his to take…ah, she was pouting. Actually pouting. Marko was delighted.
“Not yet?” she asked. “Then when?”
“I think that we should take our time.”
“Bah.”
Marko smiled slyly. “I believe you mentioned something about a bath. We could start with that.”
She floated in the hot water, blissfully relaxed. He watched, running a hand through the water now and then and letting it dribble over her belly and breasts.
To be bathed by him was incredibly sensual. She wanted to make it last forever.
Severin tipped her head back and let her tangled hair soak in the water, closing her eyes. She felt a large male hand slide under her back and lift her gently after a minute.
The hand worked creamy liquid into her hair and separated the tangles. She kept her eyes closed, letting the water and cream run in rivulets down her back. He soaked a washcloth in the bathwater and cleaned the excess from her face so she could open her eyes.
Oh my. He was almost too beautiful to look at. His linen drawers were splashed and clung to his thighs in places.
The cream had splashed on the fine, dark hair on his muscular forearms, and one hand was still covered with it. He smoothed that one carefully over her head.
“Do I look like a wet cat?” she asked dreamily. “Bedraggled and miserable?”
“You look beautiful, Severin. And very happy.”
“Liar.”
Marko grinned. “Give me a spoonful of truth and then we will see if I am lying.”
“Maybe later.”
His creamy hand moved down her back. “Lie down again.”
He supported her as she did, and Severin arched her back even more, tipping her chin to the ceiling to get her hair completely under the water. Her lips had to part in this position and she gave a little groan of satisfaction…and then, through the walls of the marble tub, heard an answering growl.
She had noted that animal quality in him, found it wildly attractive. Yet his ministrations were as tender as a woman’s. His hand continued to comb through her hair. The strands were free of each other at last, the snarls undone by the special cream. He used his fingers to gently massage her scalp and Severin arched even more.
Her breasts rose out of the water and she felt a chill tighten the flesh of her nipples.
Then she felt Marko’s mouth come down on one…and suck…and then…he sucked the other. Just her nipples. Clean and tight. The rest of her was soapy or creamy.
He lifted his head and she heard him heave a sigh that was pure lust. Severin let him lift her. She felt boneless. The size of the tub allowed her to float. It was fit for a harem, an unusual luxury for London.
He put both his big hands on her head and pressed out the water. “There. Your eyes look huge when your hair is back like that, Severin. And how they glow. Your wet eyelashes are so pretty.”
“You can find nothing wrong with me. You are better than a mirror.”
“Do you want to look in one?”
“No,” she said hastily. He might think her beautiful, but feminine standards were higher.
She looked at him, feeling purified. She suspected, however, that his thoughts were anything but pure at the moment. Sitting on a low stool, his long legs folded at the knee, he could not conceal the massive erection in his knee-length drawers.
Ah. How wonderful to see him stripped down. Fine leather breeches were not made to withstand bathwater.
The drawers were made of linen that creased where he creased. They cupped his balls just so. His cock had risen well up within them, almost lying against the very inside of his thigh. She could see the dark curls all that glorious male flesh sprang from right through the linen.
Marko looked down. “I cannot help it.”
Severin savored his embarrassment. It was one thing to be an angel of mercy, but it must be quite another to have to care for her with a rod that size getting in the way.
“You are forgiven,” she said.
He stood up and adjusted his various parts so that he could sit comfortably.
Shamelessly, Severin watched. Her hesitancy had vanished utterly from her mind the second she’d seen him lying sprawled on her bed. And now she got to look at him in nothing but a wet shirt and drawers. Bare-legged and barefooted. His hair tousled from the heat and moisture in the air.
And he was so hard.
She wanted more. Severin took the soap and rubbed it over her breasts, although they were perfectly clean. She squeezed the bar a bit too hard and it shot out of her hand, landing on the floor.
He reached for it.
“Never mind. I have enough.” She made a good lather and lavishly caressed both breasts with it. His eyes were riveted on what she was doing. She closed her eyes and purred as she lathered up more, lifting her breasts and pressing them back against herself. Then she opened her fingers over them and captured each nipple between her middle fingers and forefingers.
Again she squeezed and rubbed. She looked down at her nipples and not at him. Severin was sure he liked to think of women pleasuring themselves alone.
Her soap-tipped nipples stood out between her sliding fingers. Up and down. Then around. And again.
Marko gasped, as if the erotic sight were too much for him. Then he leaned forward and placed his hands over hers.
Her fingers kept the nipples up. His palms stimulated the tips. Together they rubbed. Severin lifted her head and he captured her lips in a kiss, thrusting his tongue deeply into her mouth. She