A Season of Seduction by Jennifer Haymore

while.”
Becky fought a grin. “I’d apologize if the wicked part of me weren’t so wildly gratified to hear it.”
His groan as she squeezed him was truly wretched, and Becky almost felt sorry for him.
“Come to bed with me,” he said, his voice an arousing combination of entreaty and command.
She pressed her palm flat against the slight curve of his pectoral muscle and closed her eyes. “Yes. Take me to bed.”
Jack rose, lifting her as if she were light as a feather. Her dress, still draped around her waist, bunched at her hips as he walked into the adjoining bedchamber, kicking the doors shut behind them as they entered the room.
The room was elegantly decorated. Art depicting landscapes of the Continent draped the walls. The carpet was lilac shot through with gold to match the similarly colored wallpaper. Candles burned from a pair of brass wall sconces, casting golden sparks of color through the room. The bed was the centerpiece. Tasseled golden ropes drew back velvet curtains of such a dark blue they appeared black, revealing an elegantly carved oak frame. A multitude of pillows in light purples, blacks, and golds covered the embroidered blue-black counterpane.
It was a room designed for illicit trysts. Becky tried not to think of Mr. Sheffield planning it thus, but she couldn’t help it. A flush burned across her chest.
Jack pulled the counterpane and blanket down and laid her on the soft sheet, propping her head on one of the pillows. She gazed up at him as he hooked his fingers under the fabric of her dress, and she promptly forgot all about Mr. Sheffield.
“I don’t want to tear it,” he said when the material snagged over her bottom.
She lifted her hips, and the soft muslin slid over her pelvis, down her legs, and off her body, leaving her completely bare.
She focused on keeping her breaths even as his hands went to the falls of his trousers. She pressed her lips together and clutched the sheet beneath her in her fists as he kicked off his shoes and the wool slid down his narrow hips. Once he removed his trousers and stockings, he crawled onto the bed beside her.
He gathered her against him until they were pressed together from head to foot, face to face, his heavy erection nudging her thigh. “I’m going to take my time,” he murmured, as if to himself. “It might kill me, but I will take my time.” He cupped her cheeks in his palms. “Remember what I told you earlier.”
“Remember…?” she asked faintly.
“I wouldn’t hurt you for anything. Remember that.”
“I… yes,” she breathed. “I’ll remember.”
He kissed her tenderly, sipping at her lips as if she were ambrosia. She gripped his hard shoulders, her mind whirring, the aching need spreading through her body like a sweet poison.
Grazing over her skin, his hand left her cheek and traveled down her neck and chest to her breast, plumping and kneading, his fingertips scraping over her nipple, making her squirm and gasp into his mouth.
Moving his hand to the curve of her hip, he pulled her more firmly to him. Unable to help herself, she ground her body against him, needing him closer, wanting more.
“That’s right,” he murmured. His hand slipped lower, right to the center between her legs, and she nearly lurched off the bed.
“Too fast?”
“No,” she whispered. “No.”
His hand tightened over her mound, and she gasped. Lightning blazed through her, hot sparks of pleasure.
His fingers pressed deeper. Becky held on to Jack for dear life as he began a slow glide over her sensitive, slick skin. “Oh,” she gasped, her body arcing toward him.
She kept her eyes open, fixed on his face, despite the urge to slam them shut. His gaze remained on her, steady and determined. “I want you to come for me.”
She made an incoherent noise. She’d been close earlier when he’d lavished attention on her breasts. Now, she didn’t know if she could. The sensations were too powerful. Almost overwhelming.
His gaze, so focused on her, so