George didn’t know the etiquette of the situation, whether it was done or not, but she reached out. If she died tomorrow and had to make accounting for her eternal soul before the gates of heaven and St. Peter himself, she would not regret it: She touched Harry Pye’s cock.

He groaned and lifted his hips.

But she was distracted by her discovery. The skin was soft, like the finest kid glove, and it moved separately from the muscle beneath. She skimmed her palm over the shaft up to the head and found liquid leaking from a slit. Was this the seed of life?

He groaned again. This time he grabbed her and lifted her to his lap, obscuring that most interesting part of his body.

“You’re going to kill me, my lady.” He worked at the hooks at the back of her gown. “I promise on my father’s grave that you may look at my naked body for hours, or as long as I can stand it, later. But right now”—her gown gaped forward, and he pulled it and her shift down— “I need to see your naked body.”

She frowned, about to protest, but he had the entire bodice off now, and he bent his head and sucked on her nipple. She gazed down at his head, shocked; then the sensation caught up with the act and she inhaled. She knew men were fascinated with breasts, but she’d no idea.

Oh, my, was this usual? Perhaps it didn’t matter—he tongued his way to her other breast and sucked on that one as well—because it felt so erotic. So evocative. Now her hips moved, swiveling of their own accord. He chuckled and she felt the vibration through her nipple.

And then he bit gently.

“Oh, please.” She was startled at the huskiness of her own voice. She didn’t know for what she begged.

But Harry knew. He shifted and dragged her gown from off her body. He pulled off her slippers one at a time and let them drop to the floor. She lay across his lap like some odalisque, naked except for her stockings and garters, his cock pressed into her hip. She should have been embarrassed, she knew. If she were proper at all, she would’ve run away, screaming. Which only proved what she’d suspected for some time: She’d lost all sense of propriety. For when Harry lifted his head and slowly, very slowly, perused her naked body, she actually arched her back as if to display herself.