“No, no, I am most certainly not,” Celia stuttered in surprise. “Do you not like them?”

He chuckled again, spinning her back around so that she was staring at his chest. He still wore his evening clothes, although he had removed the formal black coat and tossed it over a nearby chair.

“I like them too much. They are a sinful delight, and I imagine you wearing nothing but these shoes while I’m fucking you.”

Celia blushed. She was so relieved that the former topic of her uneasiness was replaced by a discussion of footwear, she did not even mind the wicked nature of his statements.

“You liked it when I did that once before, didn’t you?” His question left no room for deception. She could at least tell the truth on this subject.

“Yes,” she said softly, her breath catching as a pang of lust rippled through her.

“Sweet little pet. You really are a dream come to life, you know that, right?”

“Yes,” she said again, her voice even softer now. There was an element of danger to Gabriel’s tone that was not present before. A darkness of sexuality and possession she both feared and craved. She loved when he spoke with such brutal honesty about his needs and the awakening of her own desires. With this man, she could allow the outside world to fade away, knowing Gabriel would take care of her in his own fashion. Knowing he would break her in the sweetest of ways and then carefully rebuild her.

“I want to see all of you, Celia. Remove your chemise for me. Or would you rather I rip it from your body? Use the remnants as a gag so no one hears your screams?”

Celia tugged her bottom lips between her teeth, biting down hard as a wave of desire weakened her knees.

Ducking her head, she did as he ordered, and he watched with an avarice gleam in his eyes as she wiggled out of her underdrawers. After a moment of hesitation, she pulled the silky chemise up and over her head in a fluid motion and tossed it aside. Now, she was completely bare to his gaze, and Gabriel’s eyes roamed over the creamy paleness of her skin with greedy hunger.

He began removing his own clothing as she stood and stared at him, her own eyes wide and dark. First his cravat, then his shirt, his dress boots, and finally the black trousers.

He was as naked as she, with the exception of his cravat which hung loosely from his fingers. He began winding the expensive silk material into a coil. Celia found herself unable to look away from the mesmerizing sight of the white silk wrapping around his large hand.

“Celia, do you have any idea what I want to do to you?”

The question sent a shiver through her body. She swayed toward him as though he’d hypnotized her into a state of willing desperation.

“Something very scandalous, I’m sure,” she replied solemnly, her brow furrowing with the slightest hint of anxiety. “Something you’ve thought a great deal about doing. Something I may not enjoy at first but possibly will by its end.”