Henry's hands moved to her thighs. His fingertips traced the bare skin just above her knees, featherlight. The touch travelled upward, circling the boundaries of temptation until her breathing betrayed her. "Beautiful," he whispered. His fingers stroked higher. "Soft."
Another inch.
"Gorgeous."
"Henry…" Her voice broke around his name.
He looked up immediately. The desire in his face was fierce. His hands drifted, skimming the outside of her thighs, then inward just enough to make her tremble. The night rail bunched higher beneath his fingers, thin linen sliding over her skin inch by inch. He did not look away from her face as he did it.
