Her fingers sank into his hair. The kiss deepened. Their tongues slid languorously against each other. She sucked on his. Desire pooled low in her belly, and lower too. Between her thighs, she throbbed. She was wet and aching.
It was as if no time had passed between their ravenous interlude earlier that day and now. Yet, everything had changed. Her feelings for him had deepened in ways she could not have fathomed hours ago.
“Johanna,” he groaned against her lips.
It felt so very right to hear her true name spoken in his delicious, patrician voice. The desire inside her was building to a crashing crescendo. All the emotion surging within her was overwhelming.
She forgot to care about tomorrow.
Forgot to worry.
Forgot about all the pain and heartache she had been dealt.
In this moment, she was powerful, and she was wanted. And the man in her arms was good, so very good. He was a nobleman, it was true, but he was noble in the truest sense, from the heart. He had been doing nothing but looking after her and taking care of her, worrying over the tightness of her shoes and whether or not she ate, wanting to see her safe, bringing her here to his home, doing his best to protect her from everything and everyone.
She had never met another man like him, and she knew, instinctively, she never would. Just as she knew if she did not give herself to him this night, she would regret it forever.
The time was now.
The man was in her arms.
Felix. Duke of Winchelsea.
But truly, when she kissed him, and in his protective embrace, he felt like so much more than a name and a title. He felt like the other half of her heart, the part of her she had not realized was missing until the moment he had brought it back to her. It had been there, on the tears running down his cheeks. Tears for her, tears for Pearl.
She wanted to worship him. To do everything she could for him. A new, almost crazed need overtook her. Still kissing him, she kept one hand firmly in his hair while the other grasped a handful of her skirts. She hiked them. And then, she straddled him.
Just as she had earlier. But this time, she was not going to run. This time, she wanted more than just the pleasure he could give her.
She wanted all of him. And she wanted to give him pleasure in return. He had given her so much already, and she had only taken.
One of his hands settled on her waist. The other went beneath her skirts, skimming over her calf before igniting a trail of fire all the way to her hip.
He jerked his head backward suddenly, breaking the seal of their lips. His breathing was harsh, nothing more than ragged pants flitting humidly over her lips. Their gazes locked and held.
“This is not what I intended,” he said. “After everything you have shared with me, I cannot—”
She silenced him with a kiss. A long and lengthy and delicious one. Her tongue slipped past his lips, and he made a sweet sound of surrender, kissing her back. This was what she wanted, what she needed now. Desire. Felix.
She did not want his sympathy or his sadness. She wantedhim.
And she told him. With her lips and tongue. With the desire burning white-hot inside her. With her hand, which she slid between their bodies until she found his cock, long and thick and hard. He seemed to burn into her palm through the barrier of his trousers. She palmed him, gratified at how he seemed to swell beneath her caress.
He broke the kiss once more. His expression was as dazed as she felt. He looked almost as if he were drunk, and she was sure she looked the same. She had never known desire so strong, so overwhelming.
She was sure she had never known desire at all until Felix. Had never before understood how one man could make her body come to life.
“Johanna,” he bit out, his voice low. “This is not why I invited you to stay here with me.”
She knew that, of course. Nor was it the reason she had accepted his offer.
“Felix,” she countered, lost in his eyes. “I want you. And you want me.”
“God yes, I do,” he admitted.
He need not have said the words, because the evidence was still hard beneath her hand. But she liked the way he sounded, almost desperate. As if he had to have her. As if he was helpless to fight the way she made him feel.
This time, she answered him with deed.
