Devil in Disguise (The Ravenels #7) by Lisa Kleypas

“I think it’s too soon.”

His eyes glinted with mockery. “Maybe you should go fetch Dr. Kent’s book and see what it says.”

That drew a reluctant grin from her. “I don’t recall seeing a chapter on this particular subject.”

“Just as well.” Keir reached out with one arm and pulled her against his brawny chest. “You might have brought the stopwatch as well, and I dinna want to be rushed.”

Her chuckle was caught between their lips as he kissed her soundly. Dressed only in trousers, he padded barefoot to a chair where he had set his clothes. To Merritt’s amusement, he folded the shirt carefully before setting it on top of the neat stack of garments.

Seeing her quizzical gaze, he explained, “It makes Culpepper crabbit if I wrinkle the clothes after he’s worked hard to press them.”

“You’re on better terms with him now?”

“Aye. He and I talk a bit every morning, when he gives me a shave.” Keir came back to her and turned her to face away from him, and a ripple of excitement chased down her spine as she felt him unfastening the back of her dress.

“Why do you let him keep shaving you?” she asked. “I thought you would have started growing the beard back right away.”

Keir sounded slightly sheepish as he replied. “There’s always an ackwart stage of growing a beard, when the stubble grows longer but the rest hasn’t filled in. ’Tis patchy like a pasture after the goats have grazed it.”

“And you didn’t want Uncle Sebastian making comments?”

“No, I dinna give a damn about that—he couldn’t say anything worse than the lads back on Islay. There’s no mercy when one of us is growing a beard—we’ll call him a ‘duck in molt,’ or … no, the rest isn’t fit for your ears.”

“If you weren’t worried about Uncle Sebastian’s opinion, then what was it?”

“I dinna want you to remember me with a beard that looked to be trimmed with a hand mower.”

“You stayed clean-shaven for me?” A smile spread across Merritt’s face, and she turned around to face him. “Whatever stage of beard you happen to be in, you’re irresistible.” She leaned close to brush her nose, lips, and chin through the luxuriant fluff of his chest hair.

One of his hands slipped into the open back of her dress and found her bare upper shoulder. “I’ll have to shave from now on,” he said. “Your skin is as soft as a petal. After a night with me, you were scoured from head to toe.”

“Not scoured,” Merritt said, blushing. “You don’t have to give up your beard for my sake.”

“As often as I plan to bed you, milady, I think I’d better.”

She sent him a flirtatious glance. “That’s rather presumptuous, don’t you think?”

Keir shook his head, smiling. “Only hopeful.”

By the time he’d undressed them both, the yolk-colored light of deep afternoon had pushed through the partially closed wooden blinds, and slid across the bed in a row of golden ribbons. They reclined on the bed, and Keir stretched out on his side with Merritt in the crook of his arm. His mouth worked slowly on hers, tasting, softly tugging, then sealing tight and sending his tongue deep.

“I have an idea,” Merritt said breathlessly, when he began to kiss his way down her throat. “Let’s try to make this as mediocre as possible. We’ll cure ourselves of each other. We’ll be dull and clumsy and inconsiderate, and then we’ll never want to do this again. What do you think?”

His soft laugh collected in the deep valley between her breasts. “I think there’s nothing you could do to cure me of you.”

Merritt ran her fingers through the heavy locks of his hair, savoring the rich feel of it. “I’m going to lie still and be very boring,” she said. “That will be sure to ruin your fun.”

“The only way you could ruin it,” came his muffled voice, “is by making me sneeze.”

A giggle burst from her lips, and then she fell silent as his free hand wandered over her, kneading gently, stroking, teasing tenderly. She was too vulnerable. He knew too much about her now. A shock of pleasure went through her as his mouth captured the tip of her breast, nibbling and sucking. Her closed thighs spread easily at his touch, as if her body had decided to follow his commands instead of her own.

Through the mad pounding of the heartbeat in her ears, she heard his quiet murmurs as he kissed and licked all down her front. “The feel of you … so sweet … I never want to stop … every night, I need this from you …”

The air was cool against the thin hot skin of her vulva. It was embarrassing to be swollen and wet before he’d even touched her there. His hands were so strong, but his fingertips traced the intricate shape of her with unbelievable delicacy. She whimpered as he played with her. Such tantalizing caresses, parting the dark curls, spreading the tender lips. If he touched the peak, with just the slightest graze of his fingers, she would climax harder than she ever had in her life.

But he didn’t. His fingertips glided lightly between the humid folds, down to circle the wet entrance of her body, then tickled their way up to the tight little pearl, circling tenderly without touching it. Oh, God, she remembered how he liked to make it last a long time. He couldn’t do that tonight; she couldn’t endure it. Her face and body were hot, she was sweltering, she would die without relief soon.