She breathed weakly as she felt his hand trailing along her calf, pushing up her gown to above her knees and then higher still, until she felt the warm brush of air against those heated and swollen folds between her thighs.
‘Allow me to pleasure you again, Georgianna,’ he groaned, his breath a hot caress against the dampness of her nipple. ‘Grant me that, at least.’
‘But what of your own pleasure?’ She knew very little about men, but she knew enough to know that Zachary’s erection was both hard and demanding as it pressed, pulsed, against her hip.
‘I am happy in the knowledge that I please you, Georgianna.’
‘No.’
‘I am not pleasing you?’ Zachary pulled back slightly, his expression one of concern. ‘Did I hurt you? Was I too rough with you just now?’
Delicate colour warmed her cheeks. ‘I did not say that.’
‘Then what?’
‘Zachary...’ Her gaze could no longer meet his, aware as she was of the fact that the top of her gown still gaped open, revealing the fullness of her breasts. The bare fullness of her breasts. ‘Pleasure is surely to be given as well as received?’
‘Yes.’
Georgianna moistened stiff lips. ‘Then of course I should like to give you pleasure, too. If you will teach me, show me, what pleases you,’ she added uncomfortably, knowing that she was far less experienced, make that lacking in experience at all, than all those other women Zachary was reputed to have made love with.
Zachary looked down at her searchingly. It had been his experience in the past that there was no of course about it, when it came to a man’s pleasure during lovemaking. Whores were one thing and would do what they were asked for with the giving of coin. Wives, he had heard, preferred the act to be without embellishment and over with as quickly as was possible for the begetting of an heir. Other women in society, those married women who took a lover once the heir and spare had been provided, usually considered it enough that they were giving carte blanche with their body and, as such, had no interest in what she might do to please the man in her bed.
Obviously Georgianna was different from all those other women, being neither whore, nor wife, nor a married woman in society looking for a lover. As he could only assume she also meant she wanted him to show her, to teach her, what best pleased him in particular, rather than...
No, he refused to think of Georgianna’s relationship with Rousseau now. He would not allow anything or anyone else to intrude upon their stolen time together. ‘Are you sure you wish to pleasure me, Georgianna?’ he prompted huskily.
She flickered a glance up at him before looking down again.
‘It seems only fair I should do so, after—after you gave to me so unselfishly when—when we were last together.’ The colour flooded her cheeks once again.
‘That did not answer my question.’
Because Georgianna had no idea how to answer his question! She knew nothing of lovemaking, be it man or woman. She only knew, from these times with Zachary, that she could not be a selfish lover, that she wished to please Zachary as he had pleased her. As her own achingly aroused body said she now must.
‘What would you be willing to do to give me pleasure, Georgianna?’ he prompted huskily at her silence.
‘Whatever you wished me to do.’
‘Anything?’
She swallowed at the intensity of his silver gaze fixed unblinkingly on her blushing face. ‘I believe so, yes.’
He smiled ruefully. ‘Words are easily spoken, Georgianna.’
‘Then I shall answer in deeds rather than words.’ She sat up before sliding down to the base of the chaise to swing her feet on to the floor, before standing up and turning to face Zachary.
His eyes widened in surprise as she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him down on to his back on the chaise before sitting beside him; obviously Hawksmere was not a man used to a woman taking charge in the bedchamber. Or in this case, the blue salon of his London home.
Georgianna was not a woman used to taking charge in lovemaking, either, but in this case it seemed completely desirable.
Besides, she had not spent all of her time in the kitchen, or the storeroom, at Helene Rousseau’s tavern. She had occasionally ventured out to help serve behind the bar if they were especially busy; some of the surprising acts she had witnessed between the male and female customers when she did so had made her blush to the roots of her hair. There had been one act in particular that the gentlemen had seemed to enjoy very much.
If Georgianna only had the courage to now put into practise all that she had witnessed.
‘I believe I should like to kiss you as you once kissed me.’ She licked her lips in anticipation.
‘Georgianna?’
She glanced up enquiringly from where she had already unfastened the buttons on Zachary’s pantaloons and was now in the process of untying his drawers. The bulge beneath the linen, stretching and tightening that material, was making that task more difficult than it ought to be and was certainly causing a lack of sexual prowess on her part.
‘What are you doing?’ He looked pained as she at last managed to unfasten his drawers and reached inside to withdraw the pulsing and throbbing hard length beneath.
Georgianna’s fingers stilled as she looked down at him uncertainly. ‘You do not like it?’
‘Oh, I most assuredly do like it, Georgianna!’ he breathed shakily. ‘I am just— Are you sure you wish— Do you know what you are doing?’
Colour burned her cheeks. ‘I am sure I shall not be as experienced as some of your other ladies, but...’
‘That is not at all what I meant,’ he grated from between gritted teeth, his fingers having curled about the slenderness of her wrists to halt her movements. ‘And I have said there will be no talk between the two of us of any others. I merely wanted to know if you are sure this is what you want. What you would enjoy.’
She glanced down at the thick length of his arousal as she slowly curled her fingers about it, the skin feeling surprisingly soft as velvet.
Georgianna swiped her tongue over her lips. ‘It most certainly appears to be what a certain part of you wants,’ she murmured with satisfaction at Zachary’s obvious response to her touch.
Zachary could not deny that. Had no desire to deny it. Indeed, just seconds ago he had feared he might spill at the first touch of the softness of Georgianna’s fingers closing about him.
He had managed to hold, thank goodness, but he could not deny that his instinct was still to thrust into those encircling fingers, to bid her grip him tighter, stroke him faster, harder, as they worked together towards his release.
‘I merely want you to be sure—’ Zachary broke off with a strangled groan of pleasure as Georgianna lowered her head, her long hair falling in a soft caress against his thighs as she licked the silken tip. A long
