Page 93 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
It was strange how the night could drag on endlessly when one wished for it to be over, but pass in the blink of an eye when one wished it mightlinger forever.
Benedict was still asleep when Georgiana woke. His warm chest was pressed closely to her back and his arms were wrapped snugly around her. His soft exhalations tickled her skin and stirred the loose hairs at the back of her neck, and she squeezed her eyes closed to savorthe sensation.
If she could have remained here like this with him forever, she would have everything she ever wanted. Something had woken her, though—a log falling to pieces in the fireplace. Despite the darkness, real life was already stirring, already prying into the private cocoon they’d woven around themselves.
London loomed large on the horizon, but she wouldn’t think of it now. Not yet. Not while she was still here with him. Their time together was nearly over, but right now this was her world, the only one that existed.
Everything else could wait.
Georgiana slid from his arms and raised herself onto an elbow, a delicious flutter in her chest as she gazed down at his sleeping face. His sensuous lips were parted, his hair tousled, and a faint flush stained his cheekbones. His cravat and shirt, his waistcoat and coat were on the floor beside the settee where he’d tossed them when he stripped them off last night, and her fond gaze lingered on his bare skin, the smattering of dark red hair on his chest.
He looked like a different man when he was asleep. More powerful somehow, without the layers of clothing covering his body and hiding the hard, tight muscles of his shoulders and arms. Those arms had been wrapped around her, and those long fingers had tangled in her hair, and her own hands had stroked the hard planes of his chest.
Georgiana gave into the urge to brush the wayward lock of dark red hair from his forehead. Benedict stirred at her touch and opened his eyes. His lips curled in a smile the moment he saw her face. “Good morning, Miss Harley.”
“Good morning, Lord Haslemere.” She returned his drowsy smile even as her heart gave a painful throb in her chest.
He pressed a sleepy kiss behind her ear before stretching with a contented groan. “Are you hungry, princess?” He rose from the bed, and Georgiana curled into the warm spot he left behind, pressing her face into the sheets to inhale his scent.
“I’m famished.”
Georgiana peeked over the edge of the coverlet to find Benedict standing by the table, peering into the hamper. His thick hair was mussed, his chest bare, and his breeches hanging low on his lean hips. Despite the heaviness of her heart, her breath caught in her chest. If this was how he looked freshly tumbled from the bed, it was no wonder every lady in London wanted him.
But he wasn’t with any of those ladies. He was withher, and she intended to take advantage of the little time they had left together. “Are there any quince preserves left?”
“We finished them yesterday.” He rummaged through the hamper. “Bread with butter, sliced ham, boiled eggs and…ah, here we are.” He held up a jar with a triumphant air. “Another jar of preserves. Strawberry, this time.”
“I suppose the strawberry will have to do.” Georgiana attempted a pout, but a grin rose to her lips instead. “May I have bread with some butter and preserves, please?”
Benedict’s gaze roved over her, lingering on her lower lip caught between her teeth, and an answering grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “You, Miss Harley, may have anythingyou wish for.”
Not anything. Ican’t have you.
She pushed the thought away, unwilling to say it aloud and break the spell between them. Instead, she arched a coy eyebrow at him. “Anything?”
Benedict was arranging the rolls he’d found in the hamper on a cloth, but at her suggestive drawl, he raised half-lidded eyes to her face. “Anything, Georgiana. Everything.”
“Thereisone thing I’d like.” She beckoned to him with a quirkof her finger.
He took in the long waves of her hair tumbling over her bare shoulders, and the strong column of his throat moved in a swallow. “I’m at your command.” He paused at the fireplace, coaxing it back into a blaze before settling himself on the edge of the bed. He gazed at her for a moment, then held a piece of bread generously slathered with butter and preserves to her lips.
Georgiana opened, sighing with pleasureas he fed her.
“The strawberry preserves meet with your approval, then?” Benedict asked, his voice husky.
“They do, indeed.” She licked her lips. “They’re lovely and sweet.”
He watched her with hot, dark eyes as the tip of her tongue darted out to lick daintily at the corner of her mouth. “Are they? May Ihave a taste?”
“Of course.” She held the piece of bread out to him.
He took it, but instead of biting it he leaned forward and ran his tongue over her lower lip. “Mmm. Thatissweet. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted any sweeter, but just to be sure…”
He held the bread to her lips. Georgiana took an obedient nibble, the sweet flavor rolling over her tongue before the bread was gone again, abandoned on the table, and his mouth was there, hot and tart with strawberries, nibbling on her parted lips before he teased his tongue between them and plunged inside. He devoured her with a seemingly endless hunger until she was moaning, her lips swollen from his kisses and her fingers clutching desperately at his hair. “Benedict—”
“Lie down, back against the pillows.” His voice was strained, his touch urgent as he eased her onto her back with a gentle tug on her hips. “Yes, like that.” He lay on top of her, settling his hips between her legs and pressing his open lipsto her throat.
Georgiana arched her neck, offering it to him. “I thought you were hungry.”
