“Now, where was I?” Alex murmured. He put his hands back on her face and drew them past her determined chin and languorously down her neck. Charlotte felt as if her lower belly were on fire. Even her fingers were trembling, she thought dazedly. She watched his black eyes as if they were the only objects in the world. Alex’s fingers trailed over her collarbone and down the smooth, smooth skin of her chest. He reached the small ruffle that adorned the bodice of her morning gown. His fingers slid inside. Charlotte didn’t know what to think. More than anything she wanted him to cup her breast, but his fingers slipped sideways, along the ruffle. They reached her armpits and Charlotte tensed. She was frightfully ticklish, but somehow, his caress didn’t seem to make her ticklish…. The pressure in her lower stomach increased.

Alex’s hands lingered on her slim sides, inside her dress, for an instant, and then suddenly his right thumb ran over the light cotton of her bodice and touched her nipple. Charlotte jumped. His left thumb did the same. Charlotte gasped and nervously licked her lips.

At this Alex almost groaned. He didn’t know how long he could prolong this particular game. Flames were licking at his groin; the only thought in his mind was to push Charlotte back against the arm of the couch and … and what?

He was the one who wanted a virginal bride. He looked at Charlotte. She was lying back against the couch, her head thrown back, moist lips apart as his thumbs rhythmically stroked her small, straining nipples. She was his; he knew that as clearly as he had ever known anything. But he didn’t want to take her now, in her parents’ house. He wanted to say vows that meant something, and then make love for the first time in the shadow of those vows.

“No,” he whispered. And then he leaned forward anyway. “No,” he said again, his breath warm against her skin as he pushed down the white chambray and took her rosy nipple into his mouth.

Charlotte instinctively arched her back and moaned. Alex’s left hand rubbed her other breast, roughly now, and his teeth feathered over her nipple, nipping and sucking. Charlotte felt boneless, limp. The fire in her lower belly had been replaced by a feeling of wetness and aching, open longing.

“Alex,” she gasped, her voice breaking.