He wants no misunderstanding

Randy moved slowly between Miss Marlton's knees and placed his hands on the bed by her shoulders. From this position his shirt hung loosely covering his manhood, Miss Charlotte on the other hand was gloriously naked from her midriff down. The womanly curve of her thighs narrowing into her thin waist and the soft curve of her belly and the tuft of dark curls hiding the hint of pink petals. Returning his attention to Miss Marlton's face he couldn't help but grin at her slightly disheveled appearance. Her sparkling eyes whirled and her skin was flushed in excitement, her curly hair spread out in every direction and her full lips were slightly parted as she struggled to catch her breath.

He brushed the strand of hair that covered her cheek back behind her ear. "You are so beautiful."

"Please don't do that, Mr. Fuller..." Randy pulled back his hand in confusion. Was this a game to Miss Marlton? Teasing men and then turning them away? If so it was a very dangerous game to play; most men he knew would take what they wanted from a woman like this and worry about the consequences after.

"I thought you wanted me to touch you."

"Oh yes!" The need in Lady Charlotte's voice was unmistakable, "Do whatever you like." She pulled his hand back to her face and pressed her cheek against it. "Just don't pretend that you find me attractive. We both know I'm as plain as dirt and that the reason you are doing this is to avenge Mary." Randy stared at Miss Marlton in silence, too stunned even to move his hand that pressed against her flushed skin. Even fully clothed, Miss Charlotte was the most attractive woman he had ever known, but to see her all but naked on his bed had him aching with desire. How could she believe she was anything less than perfect?

With groan of frustration Randy lowered his lips to hers and lasted the sweetness of her breath as she met his kiss with equal ferocity. Her hands wrapped around his neck and she pulled him down against the softness of her breasts even as her bare thighs squeezed against his legs. In the end he had to pin her shoulder to the bed with his forearm and pull himself away from embrace. Even with a few inches between their faces he could still feel the softness of her breasts through the thin layers that separated them and even more disturbing the warmth of her bare legs intertwined with his.

"This is not about my sister, Miss Marlton." Randy growled, "and-" he dropped a kiss on the corner of her left eye "-you-" he kissed her other eye "-are-" he nuzzled her ear through the tangle of chestnut curls "-very-" his lips finally returned to hover just above her mouth "-beautiful!" This kiss was slower and deeper than the previous one, and the only reason he lifted his lips from hers was so he could slide the camisole up over her head.

Charlotte hadn't even realized that his hands had been easing the camisole up off her body until he pulled it over her head and off her arms and she was suddenly gloriously naked. She should be protesting, at the very least not be encouraging this man's caresses, but she found herself more confused than ever. Did Mr. Fuller really believe she was beautiful? Was she so enthralled by this man that she'd give him anything he demanded? The questions were erased from her thoughts as once again Mr. Fuller's mouth dipped to claim hers. This time her stiff nipples were crushed against he rough weave of his linen shirt and sparks of desire exploded like pyrotechnics from her breasts shooting through every nerve in her body.

"Oh Lord in heaven!" Her moan was one of complete surrender, and surely Mr. Fuller knew that. With new resolve she wrestled with Mr. Fuller's shirt pulling it up to his shoulders just as he had skillfully undressed her. "Don't stop, Mr. Fuller." She warned the man even as she wrapped her long legs around his hips and lifted her belly against the heat of his manhood. "Don't you dare stop until you've made a woman out of me."

"Are you sure?" Damn this man and his resolve to behave like a papist saint. She wondered briefly if this is how frustrated her suitors feel when they try to pull her away from the crowds so they could sate their carnal desires with her feminine body. The idea of letting Jason Worthington, or any of the other men who courted her both at her father's estate and in the countless dances and soirees of her first few seasons take her like this would have been unthinkable. The truth of the matter was that not one of the men whose lips lingered too long on her wrist or whose hands brushed against her thighs and bosom as they danced aroused in her feelings like these. Not even the few rakes who demanded kisses as she twisted in their arms or the ones who pinned her against the wall of a isolated hallway made her feel like this.

"Please!" Charlotte knew she was begging in a most unseemly manner, but she no longer cared. "Please Mr. Fuller, I can't take any more of this."