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"Hello," he said tentatively, his hand still on the latch, the door ajar, as though he couldn't quite decide if, having seen her, he should bolt back out. "My name—"

"No names," she stated briskly. "No false flattery. As little speaking as possible, if you please."

His eyes widened slightly. They were a dark rich brown like the chocolate she so favored. He gave a curt nod. "As you wish."

And closed the door. Apparently, he had decided to stay, and her heart kicked into a frantic rhythm.

"I was told you're in want of a kiss."

She liked his voice. Deep, a little gravelly, perfect for whispering naughty things in her ear. Perhaps she should have started her journey toward sexual discovery with that request rather than going straight to the intimacy of a kiss. She tried not to blush with the reminder that she'd had to ask for this, that it wasn't being given freely. She nodded.

"Did you want it in any particular place?"

She had options? On her hand, she supposed. But she'd had kisses there. Since she'd been wearing gloves, she didn't think they really counted. Once, she'd turned a corner into a hallway and come unexpectedly upon a footman pressing his lips to a maid's neck, both of them making little mewling sounds, unaware of the intrusion. But that wasn't what she wanted. "On the mouth."

He grinned. He had a devastatingly alluring grin that assured pleasure would be delivered. She imagined he had women here—everywhere—falling at his feet. He was no doubt requested by many, which was probably the reason it had taken him a while to get to her. "I meant... did you wish to move elsewhere? Or be in a different position. Sitting perhaps or standing?"

Oh, Lord. He probably thought she was a ninny in addition to being unwanted. Of course that's what he'd been asking. How could she be so incredibly daft? It was the fog that had entered her mind along with the liquor.

"Here." She didn't want to explain that she'd forgotten how to stand. She also realized she'd not sat up as much as she'd thought. Her position was more of a recline.

"All right." He tugged off his gloves. They were dark brown leather, the kind men wore about town, not in a ballroom. His large hands appeared strong and capable. She wondered what sort of experiences he provided, if he fulfilled the fantasies of those who wanted someone a bit more down-to-earth, relatable... or rough. Unrefined. Since a good many of the women here were of the nobility, perhaps while at their various societal affairs, they had their fill of all the men they could want in evening attire, and so they sought something different. He set the gloves on a table near the door.

"I see a sideboard with decanters. Would you care for something to drink?" 

"Just get on with it." Before I lose my nerve.

He studied her for a heartbeat, two, before giving a little nod. "As you wish."

His strides were long, confident. He obviously had no misgivings about doing this. Which was good, even if it wasn't desire that had brought him to her. But his job, his occupation. How she wished that wasn't so.

Odd time to realize it was not only a kiss she craved, but a man looking at her with desire swimming within his eyes, a man touching her because he couldn't not.

When he reached her, he lowered himself to one knee. His lips were full, the bottom one a bit plumper than the upper. Beautiful really. Or maybe that was the opinion of the green fairy. The absinthe certainly made him appealing. And he smelled good. A lemony orange if such a thing existed. His eyes held a kindness. "Don't be nervous."

"I'm not." She was. "How many women have you kissed tonight?" 

"You'll be the first."

"Don't you like kissing?"

"I enjoy it very much, probably a bit too much, but whether or not I kiss a woman depends entirely upon what she wants."

Why wouldn't a woman want a kiss from him? Why wouldn't she want to explore those lips that obviously had been created specifically for sinning? Why wouldn't she want to hold his head in place and simply take? "Are you not any good at it?"

He grinned again, a smile that held the promise of passion and so much more. "You tell me."

Cupping her cheek with one hand, he tilted up her face slightly and lowered that intriguing mouth to hers. It was softer than she'd expected, a pillow that welcomed, tenderly molding itself against her lips as if the fates had designed them as a perfect match to his. Then the tip of his tongue slowly outlined those very lips before following a path along the seam, urging it to slacken and separate as he went. Without further ado, she did as he bade and opened herself up to him. His low growl, almost feral in nature, should have frightened her. Instead, it only served to make her want more.