Not so with Haddon.
As he nipped his way up the inside of her thigh, Marissa arched back, feeling the response of her body, when she should have been pushing him out the door. Haddon was demanding in bed, taking control of Marissa and her pleasure with breathtaking intensity. Her past lovers were not so robust in their attentions, only mildly satisfying her before taking their leave.
Haddoninsistedon Marissa’s response. Devouring her until she was limp and draped over his chest. He’d done so at least three times last night. She could grow used to such treatment.
And Haddon.
Her mind rebelled instantly at the thought.
As soon as he’d taken her in his arms to dance last night, Marissa’s entire being had seemed to fold around Haddon, the sense of belonging to him andwith himso terrifying, she had almost refused when he insisted on sneaking into her room.
I haven’t felt such a thing since Reggie.
Reggie, the father of her youngest son, had been the only one of her three husbands Marissa had actually loved. His loss had been devastating, leaving her adrift and grieving for years. Recovering from his disappearance and restoring her independence had taken great effort.
I can’t go through such a thing again.
Her fingers twisted in the sheets of the bed as Haddon’s ministrations sent small pricks of bliss rippling across her body. The pressure built slowly from the teasing pressure of his tongue until Marissa found herself rocking her hips into his waiting mouth.
Dear Lord, but he was skilled.
Haddon reached up with one large hand and palmed her breast, the callouses on his fingers adding to the sensation. Seeking out her nipple, he rolled the peak between his thumb and forefinger as his mouth moved against her. Haddon carefully drew out her response until a tortured moan escaped her lips.
An insistent rap sounded at the door. The doorknob twisted.
No. No.
Haddon flung one of her legs over his shoulder, spreading her wider, unconcerned that someone clearly sought entrance to her room.
A fist banged against the wood.
“I don’t need my fire lit,” she said in a strained voice, cursing the efficiency of the servants at Brushbriar and their determination to perform their duties.
Haddon’s chuckle was a low hum against her skin.
“Mother.” An annoyed baritone sounded from the other side of the door. “I need to speak to you.Now. Open the door.”
Marissa sat up in surprise, her body crying out in frustration. Swatting at Haddon’s shoulders, she wiggled to get away from him. “Stop,” she hissed in a whisper. “Brendan is at the door.” What was her son doing demanding entry at this hour in the morning?
Haddon pulled away the sheet until his face was exposed, deliberately flicking his tongue against Marissa while she watched, smiling at her the entire time.
“Stop,” she begged. Haddon wasincrediblywicked. “You’ve got to hide.”
“Marissa,” he replied calmly, tossing aside the sheet and setting his chin atop her stomach. “I amnotgoing to hide.”
“But you must,” she said, pulling a pillow over her exposed breasts. “Brendan cannot find you here.” She glanced at the window. Her room overlooked Brushbriar’s gardens. “Perhaps—”
“Nor am I going to jump out the window to crawl down a trellis. You’re not a twittering virgin I’ve seduced.” Haddon didn’t seem the least distressed her grown son was demanding entry and he was—
Haddon blew a stream of air between her legs.
“Stop this instant.” She kicked until he finally rolled out of bed with a grunt, silver glinting from his eyes.
“Maybe it’s best if Brendan knows I’m here.” Haddon’s eyes flashed with determination, turning them the color of old pewter. “Last night—”
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Marissa stopped him before he could say more.
“I don’t think I am. I’ve never felt more sane. Don’t be stubborn.”
