That had him pulling her tighter to him and easing her until her back met the stable wall, tangling his tongue with hers, bending his knees so to press his cock suggestively against her, leaving no doubt about what effect a kiss—aproperkiss—should incite.
Her body’s instinctive response only stoked the flame, as her hips gave a reactive swivel and her fingers wove through his hair. Breathless with newly discovered urgency, here was a woman entirely given over to a kiss—hiskiss.
To make a woman so reliant on her intellect lose all control… Gratification soared through him, even as an elemental determination stirred.
The determination to see her completely undone.
This determination was wholly carnal, and he understood how close he was to taking it even farther—to completion.
No.
The voice in his mind was firm and final.
He couldn’t take her against a stable wall.
No.
Before he could argue away what he knew was right, he placed his hands on her shoulders and broke away. A cry of frustration escaped her, as she slumped against the wall for support. Eyes bright, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, she stared out at him in obvious shock.
All he wanted—body…mind…soul—was to lean forward and kiss her again.
For confirmation.
No small amount of irony there.
She lowered her gaze, as if to gather her thoughts, and gasped.
And Dev became aware—of his raging cockstand.
Any attempt to cover it or shift his stance would only foreground the fact of it further, possibly render it a conversational topic.
Simply, there was no diminishing it.
She swallowed, and her gaze remained fixed.
When her gaze didn’t lift of its own accord, he cleared his throat. Wide, gray eyes startled up and met his. Somany emotions battled within those eyes—guilt…curiosity…knowledge…
Desire.
She might’ve been an innocent, but she understood the meaning of a man’s raging cockstand.
“The,erm,” she began on a croak. She cleared her throat. “The Countess of Bridgewater.”
Dev hadn’t been sure what her first words would be after what had transpired between them these last five minutes—one never knew with Lady Beatrix—but it hadn’t been those.
“What about her?” he asked, wary.
“She’s your reason.” The sentence stood on its own for a beat of time before she expanded upon it. “For the acquisition of Little Wicked. For entering the world of horse racing. For our pretend engagement.”
Dev held his silence.
She rightly took it as confirmation—annoyingly. “She’s why you’re out to prove yourself to theton, no?”
Now,there, she’d missed the mark. “I have nothing to prove to those people.”
She smiled, chastened, but undaunted. “You’re correct. You don’t. Take it from one who was born into their ranks, you’re better than the lot of them.” A slight pause before she amended, “With a few exceptions.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. She had yet more to say.
