Read The Stanhope Challenge - Regency Quartet - Four Regency Romances for Free Online Page B

he that magnanimous to take a woman to bed and let her decide if she would leave…or return to him? Wonderful for a woman’s independence, but what if that woman was his wife? And she wanted to remain?
    Felice shook off the dismay of tomorrow’s choice. Instead, she put her hands to his chest, the fine wool of his waistcoat smooth and scintillating to her senses. “I will tell you my decision then.”
    His eyes narrowed on her mouth, and he stepped against her, his hand at her nape supporting her as he leaned over and kissed her with ravishing intent. At that moment, she gave up all caution, worry and dismay. She was here where she had longed to be. And he?
    He was taking her mouth, treasuring it, exploring it, absorbing it into his entire being. She let him and met him with her own desires. Her arms clutched him closer and her heart beat faster. Her lips, her breasts, her belly, her loins turned to flame.
    He broke away with a gasp.
    “Allow me,” he told her as he spun her around and with nimble flicks unbuttoned her bodice. She could tell his fingers faltered. Shaking herself in anticipation, she stepped out of her slippers. No sooner did she discard her earbobs than he had her spun about again, her red gown slithering over her curves to the floor. With a few deft strokes, he had the two hooks of her chemise undone, the thing gaping open. With an indrawn breath, he slid his warm hands beneath the thin fabric as he pushed it from her shoulders and over her breasts. He discarded her petticoat next.
    She dared not move a hair on her head.
    Silently, he stood there for a very long moment as he surveyed the naked display she afforded him. Clad only in her thigh-high ivory stockings held up by garters, she displayed every charm and every flaw she possessed. And she dared not breathe.
    “My darling wife,” he said on a broken voice, “you are quite the loveliest creature I have ever seen.”
    “Please, Adam, never tease me.”
    “Tease you? I promise never to do that.” His eyes gleamed. “At least not with words.”
    She grinned at him. “And how will you do it otherwise?”
    “You are the tease! Come to me!” She ran to him and he caught her up in his arms and strode with her to a huge winged chair where he laid her across his lap. “I shall show you.”
    “I fear,” she ventured when she sat there before him quite naked and he fully clothed, “you have me at a disadvantage.” She flicked his cravat then put her fingers to the buttons of his waistcoat. “I cannot sit here naked while you are still trussed up like a Christmas goose.”
    He settled his arms on the rests of the chair and sat back. “Have at me, then.”
    Emboldened, she got to her feet, but he must have thought she was about to leave, for he seized her wrist. She merely intended to straddle his legs. An impulsive decision, she knew, that might offend his sensibilities and induce him to throw her out. Or bind her closer.
    Even as she gathered her courage and sat down on his thighs facing him, she inhaled the fragrance of her desire for him. Did that rise to his nostrils too?
    His nose twitched. His eyes fell closed and when he opened them, they shone with lust. “You are a temptress.”
    “I’m glad you think so,” she crooned as she went to work on his cravat, vest and shirt to tug them off and drop them to the floor. His chest was furred with black down. Beneath, the muscles ran firm. She skimmed her fingers over the sculpted planes.
    He caught her hands and warned her with a look.
    “You have touched me twice now,” she explained with a raw courage she summoned from somewhere deep inside, “and I have not had the pleasure of reciprocating.”
    “You are bold.”
    “You wish me prudish?” she dared him.
    “Never. Your eagerness is refreshing and requires me to summon the greatest discipline. I will teach you the fullest pleasures, if you will allow me my way.”
    “Totally.”
    He brought her palm to his mouth and buried his lips