He’d take whatever morsels of hope she flung in his direction and stoke them until they became whatever he needed to convince her he was worth the risk.
“I will forge my way past all your walls, dragonfly. I’ll gladly dismantle them brick by brick if that’s what’s required.”
“I only agreed to this because you gave me no other choice.”
“Although I’ve not been reticent regarding my desire to strip you of your garments, I didn’t strip you of your choices, Miss Wainwright.”
“You threatened to persecute my sister.”
“Because you threatened to go to the magistrate about your purloined microscope. My threat was in retaliation.”
She huffed again, slightly less indignantly. “Then do your worst, Mr. Morgan. I shall remain unmoved.”
“I intend to do the exact opposite of my worst,” he said as he gathered her skirts in one hand and used the other one to curl her leg around his waist. “You’re going to be writhing on my thigh before we leave this wardrobe.”
Chapter Fifteen
Jessknewwhatsheshould do. And it wasn’t letting him assume she was in his thrall. Emily had trained them all in self defense, but Jess had no desire to thrust her knee between his legs. She wanted to indulge in experimentation. To test her effect on him as much as he was testing his effect on her.
She shifted against his thigh and tipped her chin up. “I dare you to try, Mr. Morgan.”
“You should know by now, dragonfly, that I never refuse a dare. No matter how reckless it is,” he said as he hitched her more firmly against him.
When he captured her mouth, his assault was ruthless. His lips nipped at hers, demanding entry. Merciless and unforgiving of any misgivings she still harbored. She met his demands with her own. To be seen and recognized and acknowledged. In the spaces she occupied now. With no expectation of her conformity to those she wanted to cast aside and ignore.
Her lips were just as savage. She bit his bottom lip when he stroked his tongue across hers. She tangled her fingers in theunruly tousle of curl at his nape and yanked his head closer. When his tongue stroked into her mouth she quelled the feral urge to bite it in half and welcomed his exploration with one of her own.
“So this is to be a duel,” he murmured into the kiss.
Jess pulled back just far enough to answer him. “Not a duel, a battle. I’m changing the terms of our wager. If I leave you panting for more, Morgan, you’ll give me two lenses instead of one.”
She could just make out his gleeful smile. “The dragonfly shows her claws.”
“Dragonflies don’t have claws, you idiot,” she said.
“It was a figure of speech, madam. To let you know I welcome your little aggressions.”
Her little aggressions? She’d show him exactly how minuscule her aggressions were. She lowered her hand to grapple against his waist. He was tumescent against the fall of his trousers and she grazed him there with the back of her hand. A light, teasing, purposeful touch that made him surge against her.
“I don’t think we have much time until we’re discovered,” she said as she grazed him again.
He grunted something incoherent in response and pressed her even more forcefully against the wall at her back.
She removed the hand at her waist and set it against her breast.
“I accept your invitation,” he growled and molded her against the searing warmth of his palm. She could feel it beneath the layers of her gown and her half-corset and her chemise. As keenly and sharply as she felt him swell against her own palm when she stroked his length with the delicate touch of a single, slender finger.
“It wasn’t an invitation, it was a challenge. I think I can make you fall apart before you do the same to me. You’re closer to the edge, blackguard.”
“Blackguard? You’ve yet to see that side of me.”
His whole body was now flush against hers, her hand crushed between them, his thumb and forefinger a ruthless caress on her breast, tweaking and tugging while they fought for dominance of the kiss.
He sipped at her lips with abandon, and he was as lost to the feel of it as she was. Jess felt as if she were drowning in the spice and heat and danger of him. She wedged her hand free and slid it beneath the hem of his shirt. When she stroked his abdomen, the rigid fortress of muscle quivered, far from invincible. She smiled slyly at the evidence of his weakness.
He was just as affected by the passion unfurling between them.
His caresses ceased and he began fumbling at her bodice, as if he was too impatient to loosen it from the back. She placed her hand in the middle of his chest and shoved.
