A series of images ran through her mind. Blakely maneuvering her through the waltz. and then, later in the library, his expression as he pumped into Mrs. Vivienne Cromwell. She also recalled his look of concern when he assisted her with the spectacles.
She was going to place her backside on top of him.
Emily eased her bum along the length of his side He must have realized he was too high for her, though, as he lowered himself slightly.
Placing her palms behind her, along his spine, Emily scooted on. Once she was settled, he rose a few inches. One of her hands ended up near his neck and the other, near the top of his breeches. She slid her fingers inside and gripped his waistband tightly.
Who would he take her to?
Marcus had played this game before. It was not about the fellows waiting, blindfolded in the chairs. This game was about the beast and the maiden. Of course, the duchess had manipulated the entire thing.
Perhaps she’d not been privy to Miss Goodnight and Miss Mossant’s plans for him. Emily shifted uncomfortably on top of him. Poor dear, he wondered if she’d ever been kissed. She must be nervous as a cat in a room full of knives.
Marcus bent his arms, and she slid forward.
“What are you doing?” she hissed by his ears.
“Tell me who you want to kiss you!” he ordered her.
“I… I…”
“Oh, good Lord.” Marcus turned and crawled toward Prescott.
“No!” she hissed. “What kind of a person do you think I am?”
Ah, he nearly chuckled, he’d been giving her an out.
He then crawled toward the lieutenant. “No!” she said, less conviction in her voice this time.
She wanted Carlisle.
Carlisle would be perfect for her. And yet…
And yet, Marcus did not want to serve her up to the kindly vicar.
Nonetheless, he started moving across the room to the new earl. One of her fists clenched the top of his jacket and the other tugged almost uncomfortably at his pants. She was nervous. Perhaps even afraid.
Oh, hell.
In one smooth motion, Marcus tipped her off and then rose to his feet. Not giving her a chance to back away from him, he grasped the sides of her face. She would get her kiss. A proper one at that.A Lady’s Guide to Physical Pleasure,indeed…
Her smallness impressed itself upon him first. He’d touched her face before, while assisting her with the spectacles, but not with both hands like this, cupping her chin, her cheeks. He’d known many, many…manywomen. How had he never considered her fragility before?
She stared into his eyes like a startled doe, but unlike a startled doe, she did not try to flee. No, Miss Emily Goodnight tipped her head back in an exceedingly inviting manner.
Ah, sweet breath. He dipped his head lower. Petal-like lips. Nothing in the world quite like a woman’s lips. Except perhaps…
He dropped one hand to her waist and pulled her up against him. She’d gasped at his touch and so he had access to the moist flesh within.
Slick, smooth teeth, and then he circled the roof of her mouth. The urge to swoop her out of the room, to have her to himself, baffled him.
What the hell?He released her abruptly and stepped away.
“Blindfolds off!” Emily nearly spit the words out. She’d done something wrong.
“Rhoda is next,” Sophia said but it took all of Emily’s resolve to regain her composure. “And the beast is Lord Carlisle.”
When Carlisle arose, Emily returned to her seat and dropped into it thankfully. She barely paid attention while Rhoda found her seat upon Lord Carlisle.
