Still, he forced himself to go slowly. He had waited this long to stake his claim upon Prudence Winter, to work beyond the guilt and the sense of obligation weighing him down. He did not want to rush either of them. By his estimate, they had a good half hour at least before the servant charged with tending the fires returned.
Which meant he was going to prolong this.
He was going to make it good for Pru.
So good she saidyes when he asked her to marry him.
Here was proof of just how far gone he was: the notion of marriage to Pru did not make him seize with dread. Instead, it made his cock harder. It was as if she had cast a spell upon him. As if she had somehow robbed him of his ability to resist her.
Whatever had changed, there was no undoing it now. The damage had been done. This woman had a power over him no one before her ever had.
He stopped undoing her gown long enough to shrug off his coat, before letting it fall to the floor. His valet would be in an uproar over such a cavalier treatment of the expensive, perfectly tailored garment. He did not have much coin, but what he did have, he spent wisely. It was never said that Lord Ashley Rawdon did not cut a dashing figure.
But either way, Ash did not give a damn. He wanted as few encumbrances as possible between himself and Pru. He was single-minded in his goal. Her bodice gaped. He pulled it down her arms. Stays were in his way, but beneath them, her breasts rose full and lush, hidden from his gaze by her chemise.
Desire roared through him all over again. With her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from their shared kisses, and delectably disheveled, she was the most erotic sight he had ever beheld. He had to close his eyes for a beat against a frantic surge of need.
“Ash,” she said again, her voice hesitant.
An uncertain whisper.
He opened his eyes, drinking her in. “What is it, sweet?”
“This is madness.”
“It is,” he agreed easily, taking one of her hands in his and holding it over his heart. “Feel this?”
His heart was racing. Galloping as if he had just engaged in some form of sport. All from kissing her. Her hand splayed over his chest, beneath his hand, and even that touch was enough to make him wild. It took every bit of his restraint to keep himself from doing what he longed to do the most—guide her hand lower. Along his abdomen, straight to his cockstand.
But this was not about him. It was about her. About convincing her. Showing her the pleasure he could give her. Demonstrating all the reasons why she had to marry him with the only means of persuasion he possessed. He had always excelled at seduction.
“Your heart is beating fast,” she said, her passion-glazed gaze upon his. “Why?”
“It is the effect you have upon me,” he admitted.
She swallowed, her lips parting, as if the revelation left her shocked. “Oh.”
Surely she had worked suitors before him into such a frenzied state. Pru was a veritable goddess with her delicate beauty, her tall, lush form, those eyes like hot chocolate, that hair he could not help but to imagine free of all its pins, spread over his pillow. Wrapped around his fist.
“Pru,” he said then, forcing himself to recall the situation at hand, “do you trust me?”
Because the situation was far bigger than either of them individually. Bigger, even, than the two of them together. It was monumental. Marriage was a lifelong institution.
She took her time answering him, her gaze searching leisurely over his features as if she were not certain of the response she would give him.
“Pru,” he pressed, dipping his head toward hers, bringing their foreheads together. “Do you trust me?”
“I do not know,” she whispered at last. “I ought not. You are a rake.”
To the devil with being a rake.
To the devil with his reputation.
There was more to him, far more to him, than the man he had once been, than the mistakes he had made.
“Perhaps I am a reformed rake now,” he offered, rubbing his nose gently over hers. Once, twice. Again.
Damnation, even her nose was silken and delectable. He thought he could happily kiss the tip of it every day. She inhaled sharply at the simple contact, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. Still, she clutched his shoulders. She did not push him away or bring him nearer.
