Oh, my goodness. Dulcie couldn’t believe what was happening. Jackson Cornell had his mouth pressed softly against hers so that his lips surrounded her top lip as hers surrounded his bottom one. His fingertips came up and brushed her cheek. She had never felt anything so sweet as Jack’s kiss. He pulled away and Dulcie whimpered, but he was merely repositioning his head.

When he returned, the kiss invoked a hunger she had never known she possessed. Jack pressed his tongue forward and licked her bottom lip before pushing against her teeth. Dulcie moaned and opened her mouth. Jackson hummed his approval and found her tongue with his. As he rubbed the wonderfully textured surface against every bit of her mouth, his hand left her cheek to stroke down her neck. When he reached the base, his hand covered much of her bare upper chest.

Jack pulled away again, this time kissing his way to her ear. “I’m going to touch you, Dulcie. I have to. I’ve waited so long to have you in my arms, I have to touch you.”

“Where?” Dulcie asked breathlessly.

“Your breast, Dulcie.” His deep voice was thicker than usual and it sounded as though she was not the only one having trouble breathing. “I’m only going to hold you in my hand, but if we had somewhere more private I would kiss it. I would lick your skin and suck on your nipple, Dulcie.”

As he spoke his hand covered her breast, warming her through the layers of her dress and her shift and the new corset her dress maker had convinced her was the height of fashion. Jack continued speaking and Dulcie thought she just might swoon. “I would nibble on it, bite down hard then lick the pain away.” He squeezed and Dulcie’s breath stuck in her throat.

Jack turned his face into her throat and licked her skin before asking, “What color are your nipples, Dulcie?”

“What?” She couldn’t make her brain work. It sounded like he was speaking underwater.

“Your nipples, Dulcie. What color are they?”

She swallowed hard. Jackson knowing the color of her nipples seemed exceedingly more intimate than his touches, but she wanted to tell him. She needed to. “They are dark pink,” she whispered. “Almost red. And they hurt so much right now, Jackson. They are tight and hard.”

Jackson growled and squeezed harder, this time catching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Dulcie would have screamed to the exquisite pleasure it sent from her breast to her womb had Jackson not chosen that precise moment to kiss her again. This kiss was more demanding than the ones before. He pressed her mouth open as wide as it would go and plunged his tongue in and out of her mouth. Then she realized his hips were moving against her thigh in exactly the same rhythm; that the juncture of her thighs throbbed right along with his movements. She felt an unusual trickling sensation.

Dulcie reached up. One hand covered his at her breast, pressing him closer, positioning his fingers where they could pinch her again. Her other hand landed on the soft fabric of his shirt. She touched his chest, pressing her fingers into the firm flesh before smoothing up to his neck and tangling in his hair.

He caught her nipple again, this time squeezing and releasing in time to his thrusting tongue and hips. She whimpered again and began moving her hips, trying to rub the strangely pinched spot between her legs. She pulled his hand from her breast and began to guide it down her stomach. Dulcie desperately needed Jack to stop the throbbing below but he pulled his hand away and sat back from her.

 Dulcie tried to pull him back into her arms but he shook his head. Jack stood and turned to the window, pressing his body against the glass. She stood, finding it very hard to get her legs to hold her. When they finally held steady she walked up and stood next to him, pressing her cheek to the cold pane. He opened his beautiful hazel eyes and Dulcie found herself unable to keep the contact. “I’m sorry, Jackson.”

He laughed. “You have nothing to apologize for, Dulcie.”