Page 60 of The Favourite

“Your heated skin,” he murmured against her ear. “Let me bathe it with my tongue. I’ve imagined that before too,” he admitted silkily. “Many, many times.” Jane clutched at his back as he traced the shell of her ear with the tip of his wicked tongue. “Yes?” he asked.

She gave a whimper, then the faintest, “Yes.” Fortunately, he had good hearing, for she could not have repeated it, even to save her life. He did not need encouragement in any case, for no sooner had she uttered her assent, than he was kissing down her neck.

“Let me see, the skin is reddened here. Let me see if it is hot.” He ran the slope of his nose against her throat. “Oh yes,” he whispered. “So hot, however shall I stand it?”

Jane swallowed and had only just started to wonder what, pray, he had to withstand, when he ran his tongue hither and thither up her throat, making her squirm.

“Does that give you relief?” he asked huskily against her skin.

“No, it is even more of a torment!”

He laughed softly. “Poor Jane.” He was inspecting her décolletage now, and leaning in to bestow slow licks on patches of skin which Jane could only suppose were blotchy. She huffed, blowing out her cheeks. Suddenly, his fingers pinched at her nipple, making her cry out in surprise.

“I want it to stay nice and hard,” he explained, seeing her look of outrage.

“My nipple?”

He smirked. “Yes.”

Jane was speechless while he continued his way leisurely across the top of her breasts. “Next time,” he said thoughtfully, “I want you to wear jewels.”

“Next—? What do you mean?”

“Next time I get you naked,” he elaborated. “Don’t you think the cold stones would feel good against your flushed skin?”

Naked, but wearing jewels? Jane had no words. Even if she had, they would have fled as soon as he opened his mouth over her nipple. “Alisander!” His tongue lapped her there, and she squawked and made a grab at his head, catching his hair to drag it back. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“I’m worshipping your bosom, Jane,” he answered, completely unabashed.

“But why?”

“Because it is, undoubtedly, the most splendid bosom in the known world. And also, because I want you to feel good. Does it?”

“Does it what?” Jane’s brain was too befuddled to follow the thread of conversation by this point. Splendid? She glanced down uncertainly once more at her wholly mediocre breasts. They were no such thing! He must be teasing her again.

“How about you let me pay my respects to its fellow? Hmmm?” He lightly cupped her left breast. “May I?”

Instead of answering, she released his hair from her clutches and gave a nod. The instant look of gratified pleasure on his face seemed sincere enough. She did not know what to think. Jane drew in a sharp breath as he sucked her other nipple into his mouth and made a sound of rumbling pleasure that set Jane all of a quiver. She seemed to feel it in some very peculiar places.

“Gods, Jane,” he whispered and just dropped his head so it rested between her breasts. His breathing was ragged, and he mouthed her tender flesh there, rubbing his face against her skin and whispering words that she could not catch. They sounded almost tortured, yet also somehow, blissful.

Suddenly, she was desperate to know what they were. “What did you say?”

“Nothing of import,” he said huskily, lifting his head to look at her. “I want to put my hand between your legs,” he said with sudden crushing bluntness. “May I?”

Jane felt her flutterings come to a screeching halt. “Your hand?” she replied faintly.

“Yes, just my hand.” Something else seemed to occur to him. “Actually, maybe also … my mouth?” he mused. “How should you feel about that?”

His mouth? Between her legs? Jane opened her mouth and closed it again. Suddenly, she felt panicked he would turn amused at her prudishness. She could not bear it if he laughed at her at this moment. Not when she had heard him sound so tormented with pleasure.

“Yes,” she said quickly. Giving permission was far easier than admitting how she felt about it, which was flabbergasted.

His expression turned heavy-lidded. “Ah Jane,” he murmured, and she felt his hands dragging her nightgown up her legs. “Please be …” He paused as his hand slid shockingly between her thighs. “… wet,” he said thickly. They both gasped as his finger slid into her cleft. “Jane,” he groaned. “Oh, my darling.” And her shocked ears could even hear her wetness. His eyes gleamed. “You are … deliciously wet.”

It facilitated the slide of his wicked fingers. There was no resistance at all. She made a strange noise that would have been mortifying under normal circumstances, half-strangled cry, half moan. What was happening? “Alisander!” His name burst from her, in panicked tones.

“Shhh, my darling, just let me …” His fingers played over her, teasing and toying with her trembling flesh. Jane was reeling. He was taking outrageous liberties with her. She ought to be protesting, not whatever it was she was doing right now. Sort of shifting against his fingers, her face hot with effort and terribly out of breath.