She moved one leg and realized Alistair had not yet removed his hand. Fine tremors still coursed through her body. Not trusting her voice yet, she unclenched her fingers and smoothed his hair.
He slowly, oh so slowly, slid his hand out from between her legs, setting off more tremors, and let her skirt slide down her legs and fall back into place. “Sweet Charlotte,” he whispered in her ear.
When her breathing was almost back to normal, she cleared her throat. “What’s next?” Even to her own ears, her voice was unusually husky.
Leaning his forehead against hers, Alistair gave a soft chuckle.
“Isn’t it your turn?”
He’d moved his hips back, no longer in contact with her, so she was uncertain of his state. “I told you, I will wait.”
The sound of carriages clattering past on the street belo
