“I was rather fond of the old naked-under-the-skirt fashion, but I won’t complain. This is like unwrapping a most enticing parcel.”

“I’m not a parcel,” George said.

“I know you’re not: you’re a gift.” He turned her around and began to unlace her stays, kissing down her spine as his fingers flew to release her. Then she felt a tugging, and he swore. “Blast!”

He turned her to face him. “I can’t undo it. The wretched thing is knotted.” He bent and kissed her breasts. “Let’s try—aha!” He reached into the stays with his long clever fingers, drew out the busk and tossed it aside. “Now . . .” He peeled the top of her stays down, taking her chemise with it, baring her breasts to the air.

“So pretty.” He cupped them in his hands, and she shivered with the sensation. He teased the nipples with his thumbs, and she closed her eyes as tiny shudders began deep within her body. He laved one breast with his tongue, then placed his mouth over it and sucked. George almost came off the bed as a shaft of pleasure/pain speared through her.

His mouth and hands roved over her, the shudders grew stronger and stronger and she vaguely realized that her body was no longer under her control. Some ancient, irresistible force had taken over. Her legs trembled and fell apart and following some vague instinct, she lifted them to wrap them around his waist.

“One moment; first we need to get rid of—there.” He pulled off her drawers and tossed them aside, then, to her shock, he buried his face in the fur between her legs and inhaled.

“I’m sorry, George. I can’t wait any longer.” His mouth came back to devour hers; she felt a warm, blunt object pushing at her entrance and then a sharp pain. She gasped, suddenly drawn back to awareness. Her body felt stretched, full, as if she might burst.

He checked for a moment and eased out of her, though not all the way. He slipped his hand between her thighs and stroked her with his fingers, and after a moment the shivers started again.

“Better?”

She managed a nod, and wriggled a little. It felt better, so she wriggled again. He groaned. “Lord, George, don’t—I can’t—” With an apologetic grimace he surged into her, and thrust again and again.

And suddenly her body found the rhythm and she moved with him. It felt right, this thing she had been craving for so long. He reached a climax and with a loud groan shuddered into her and collapsed.

They lay there, the duke lying on top of her, breathing heavily, for what seemed like a long time. George lay quietly, savoring the whole extraordinary experience, and quite enjoying the feeling of his weight pressing her into the mattress. Eventually he eased himself out of her and raised himself up on one elbow.