Edison roared. He squeezed her buttocks in his large hands and lifted her off her feet. “Careful, luv.” His voice was husky with passion as he set her down on the table top.
Her skirts billowed about her waist, exposing the tops of her thighs and the heated cleft between to the open air. He was staring at the juncture of her thighs, lust darkening his eyes.
Even as her cheeks burned, a surge of uncontrollable desire rippled through her like a hot wind, blowing away any last wisps of modesty.
She pressed her hands into the table top behind her and spread her legs, leaving her womanhood open to his gaze. “I don’t want to be careful,” she said. “I want to be wild, and I want you to be wicked. Very, very wicked.”
“Lucifer’s teeth,” he whispered, his voice thin with need. “I can be wicked.”
“Show me.”
He stepped between her legs, spreading her thighs with his knees, and settled between them until his erection pressed against her damp, pulsing center, his trousers the only barrier between them. Then he hooked a finger in the edge of her neckline and slipped the dress off one shoulder, exposing her thin chemise. He pinned her gaze, his pupils dilating as he slowly—ever so slowly—inched the thin silk down her breast, exposing the rosy tip.
He thumbed her swollen nipple. “My pleasure.”
Ada gasped. She wanted… wanted… Her brain, fuzzy with lust, couldn’t seem to form actual words.
Blessedly, she found she didn’t need to ask.
Edison stretched out on top of her. He caught her hands, threading his thick fingers through hers and stretching her arms out above her head. All the while his shaft nuzzled the triangle at the top of her thighs, throbbing insistently with its own need.
“Sweet blazing hell,” she echoed his curse and raised her hips.
Edison moaned and swept her arms out wider.
Crockery crashed to the floor, tearing through the fog of desire. Ada stiffened beneath him, and he immediately pushed himself up, taking his heat with him.
As if waking from a dream, she blinked in the late afternoon light. The kitchen had tall windows and too many entry points. Suddenly shy, Ada shoved her skirts down. “We shouldn’t—”
Lines scored his forehead as if he were in great pain. “No, we shouldn’t,” he agreed. “Not here.”
The plain, dusty kitchen morphed into a vision of Cherise’s stage-like bed. Now she understood. Passion shivered through her at the thought of Edison’s naked back reflected overhead as he took her. His shoulder muscles would ripple as he held himself above her. As he thrust into her, the taut power in his hips and legs would be on full display even as he pulsed inside her.
The erotic power of the scene made her eyes cross.
Edison eyed her as if she were a succulent roast. “We should retire somewhere more private.”
“We should indeed. The sooner the better.”
She pressed a hand to the center of his chest. Beneath his shirt, his heart beat wildly.
She had done that.
Somehow, with the aid of Cherise’s transformation, she—Ada Templeton, inveterate bluestocking—had inspired passion in a man like Edison Sweet. Ada pulled the neckline of her dress back up over her shoulders and smiled a secret smile.
Edison helped her sit up. He tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear. “I’m afraid we’ve ruined Cherise’s handiwork.”
“I can think of more items we could destroy.” Ada made quick work of his tie, tossing it down with her underskirts.
Edison’s eyes blazed. He moved to to lift her up off the table, but she cupped his shoulders, stilling him.
“Save your strength,” she said. “I want you at your full capacity for other activities, Mr. Sweet.”
Edison laughed. Really laughed. A deep belly laugh that made her heart leap. “No cause for concern,” he said once he’d regained his voice. “You’ll have nothing but my best, my… deepest affection.”
She gasped at the heat in his double entendre. Playing with fire indeed.
Grasping her by the hips, he slid her off of the table. Before he let her go, he pulled her hips against him, pressing her belly against his hard shaft.
A little devil whispered in her ear. She thrust her hips against him and wiggled.
His fingers bit into her hips, stilling her, while a look of sheer pain crossed his face. “For the love of God, woman, stop.” He stepped away from her. “Not unless you want to be taken right here.”
If it weren’t for the thought of that errant boy, she would have taken him up on that offer. She’d never performed her wifely duties in anything but the darkest of night, in a proper bed, with no sense of passion whatsoever.
And life was short. Adventure beckoned.
Before she could pull him down to the kitchen floor, Edison clasped her hand, and guided her off down the dim hallway. He bypassed the library completely and moved straight on to the front parlor.
A small sofa, draped in canvas sat beneath bay windows that faced the quiet street.
“Perfect,” he murmured, but when she looked at his face, she realized he wasn’t talking about the chaise.
He pulled her into his arms and claimed her mouth. His kiss was hard. Urgent.
The tips of her breasts, sensitized from his earlier attentions, seemed to pulse against his hard chest, aching for his touch… his lips.
She only realized her gown had been unfastened when he swept it off her shoulders, sending it to the floor in a vivid blue puddle of satin.
Hands around her waist, he urged her toward the sofa.
“Edison!” she protested. “The windows.”
With a growl of frustration he pulled her up the front stairway. What a sight she must be, clad only in her chemise and corset… and those lovely silk stockings.
Once at the top, he lurched toward the room he’d taken, while Ada moved toward her own. Their hands parted.
The light was dimming quickly now, especially on the landing, where the only illumination came from the windows far below in the entryway. His beautiful mouth taut with frustration, Edison reached for her hand. In the late afternoon light, his expression seemed more of a menacing glower. Like some great, powerful beast.
Ada shivered with delight.
Her beast. For tonight he was her beast to command.
She squeezed his fingers. “I give my bed high marks. It’s delightfully soft,” she said, and pulled him toward her room.
Though the rest of the furniture was draped in canvas, the bed beckoned. The tousled blankets were bunched up at the foot where she’d shoved them.
The sight of the rumpled bedclothes seemed to send him into a fury. He took her by the arm, twirling her about the room before tossing her backwards on top of the bed.
She landed on her back. Her legs flailed upwards as she bounced, before settling wide apart, exposing the dark curls shielding her very center.
Breathless with wanting, she laughed.