Sybille's Lord by Raven McAllan Page B

for
insisting it was not a formal evening and evening breeches wouldn’t be required.
The knit of his pantaloons was much more sympathetic to his burgeoning pego.
    She
hesitated and looked anywhere except at him. “Not really.”
    “I
want you.” The timbre of his tone, the way his eyes had darkened once more, the
tremor within him as he spoke, all indicated how his senses were reacting to
her innocent question. He wanted to show her there and then. To untie the laces
of her gown, slide the lacy sleeves across her shoulders and down to her elbows
to pinion her arms. Then as her breasts were bared to him, to feast and suckle
and teach Sybille the first stages of passion. Before…
    “Thom?
Are you all right? You seem dyspeptic.” Sybille touched his cheek. “You’re
feverish.” She shook her head. “You should be at home in bed.”
    Thom
groaned and lifted her hand from his face. “I may well be feverish, but not for
the reason you think.” It was time to tell her just how she affected him. He
hoped she wouldn’t have need of smelling salts. He didn’t relish waking up the
household to tell them he’d caused one of the daughters of the house to pass
out.
    Sybille
stared at their linked hands. “I think, my lord, you’re toying with me. It’s
not right.”
      Oh grief we’re back to ‘my lord’ again.
    “Nor
is calling the man about to introduce you to passion, in that tone of voice.
Thom, please.”
    Her
eyes widened, she bit her lips and then smiled. He’d wager she had no idea, but
it was the enticing ‘come to me’ smile of a houri.
    “Thom,
please.” Sybille giggled. “I’m not sure what I’m asking but… please.”
    “You
do realize we are limited at this moment, don’t you?” He had to warn her. “When
I fill you and take you to be mine, I want time. Time to show you how I can worship
every inch of you. Touch you, taste you, fill you, and make you fly.” He turned
their hands over and kissed her palm. “I want, to be crude, to fuck with you.”
    To
her credit, she only blinked, swallowed, went white and then nodded.
    “Then
do it.”
    It
was his turn to blink, swallow, he hoped not go white, and sadly shake his
head.
    “By
my reckoning we have less than an hour in private, it isn’t long enough.”
    “N…not
long enough?” Sybille sounded puzzled. “I thought… no… never mind. Why is it
not?”
    “When
we make love, I intend to show you everything. To worship your body and let you
worship mine. To explore each other so thoroughly there won’t be once inch of
each other we don’t know intimately. When I finally come in you, you’ll be oh
so ready. That is my oath, Sybille, but until we have that much time, all we
can do is play a little.” Very deliberately he stood up, unwound his cravat and
set it over the back of a chair. Then he opened his jacket and waistcoat and
shrugged out of them. “How much we play is up to you.”
    He
waited, barely able to contain his impatience while she assimilated his
remarks. He had no hope she’d say no, and little she’d agree to whatever he
chose without some input.
    Thom
was correct.
    “How?
Where? Show me.” Her words tumbled over each other. “Who says? Can we? What
should…” She put her hands on his shoulders and swayed on her toes.
    He
shut her up in the only way he thought might work. Thom put his fingers over
her mouth, ignored her outraged “oufft,” and replaced his digits with his mouth.
    “Sweet
Sybille, open your mouth and let me in.” Thom mumbled the words as he used his
tongue to pry her lips open, and put his hands on her nicely rounded bottom to
pull her close.
    His
erection pressed into her belly. Her hold on his shoulders tightened to the
point of pain and she gasped and stiffened. Thom took advantage and deepened
the kiss. To his delight, after one second of what he assumed was deliberation,
she responded and let her tongue trace his. Even through the fine lawn of his
shirt and the silk of her dress,