Of their own volition, Hugh’s arms wound themselves around his fantasy. That’s what this was, a dream, a drunken hallucination. He might as well enjoy it!
One hand reached for her bottom, and the other wrapped around her waist. With no hesitation whatsoever, he tightened his grip, pressing her against his torso and groin. “Damn straight we should,” he growled in agreement before claiming her lips.
* * *
This was going to work. This was actually going to work! The thought had barely registered in Penelope’s mind when Danbury covered her mouth with his. Encouraged by such enthusiasm, she parted her lips and allowed his very capable tongue free reign. In her mouth!
She’d known he was something of a womanizer. She’d known he was experienced and would be well-versed in the aspects of physical love.
She hadnotknown how it would affect her.
Her control slipped slightly, but she had no cause to be concerned.
Because, the thing about a true gentleman, even a roguish one like Danbury, was that he would never dally lightly with a woman who was alady.
For if he were caught dallying with alady,he could be forced to marry her. And if he refused to make the poor girl an offer, his honor was compromised.
And Hugh Chesterton, Viscount of Danbury, was nothing if he was not honorable.
And technically speaking, Penelope was a lady.
First and foremost, an unwed lady had her virginity. A gentleman had his honor.
Did she feel guilty for presuming upon Danbury’s honor? Ouch, yes, she did. A little.
But really, she reasoned with herself as his hand reached around to claim her breast, he was going to get a great deal out of this as well. When she’d entered the room, she’d only intended allowing him to compromise her in the most innocent sense. But—she couldn’t stop the moan from escaping past her lips—that felt delightful. Was he pinching her? Oh my!
Hugh moved to her other breast and she was able to return to her train of thought. Oh yes, if she allowed him even greater liberties, then the end result would be far more expedient.
She would give up her virginity, and Danbury would act honorably. She’d have her husband and then her baby.
She moaned again as his lips left her mouth and found her neck. Good God, this felt wonderful. The sensations soaring through her had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to make a baby.
No, she thought, as her fingers ran through Hugh’s springy chestnut hair, these sensations were far more primitive. She found herself writhing against him, wanting to be closer.
Danbury growled and lifted her in his arms. As he carried her to the long settee, Penelope congratulated herself on having the foresight to lock the door behind her. She lay back against a pillow, and he held himself above her. His gaze travelled downward and she startled to realize her modest bosoms were no longer covered by her bodice. And then his mouth was on her again. On her shoulder, her neck, and oh, God, on the tip of her breast.
Penelope gripped the sides of his head tightly as he did amazing things with his lips and teeth. She arched her back, reaching, wanting more. And with no thought at all, her thighs fell open and his weight bore down upon her. She hadn’t truly thought things would go this far, had she? She’d entered Cortland’s study with the thought of flirting with Danbury, tempting him. But could that have been enough to extract a proposal for marriage? Most likely not. Others had tried. All of them had failed. When she’d seen how foxed he was, forgetting even to stand when she’d entered the room, she knew this was her chance.
She must carry out this deed if she wanted him to offer for her. She’d deal with the aftermath later.
Hugh stroked the length of her leg. He then pushed her skirts aside and slid his hand up to the very sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh.
Heat pooled at her apex. She hungered for him. His fingers teased her, drifting from one leg to the other, and then to her abdomen, just below her stays.
Penelope thrust herself into his hand. “Touch me, Hugh,” she demanded. She had never experienced anything like this. There had been nights that she’d awakened, alone of course, and touched herself. She’d brought herself satisfaction even, but that had been entirely different.
She was allowing another person,a manto touch her intimately. She knew what he felt. The curling hair that concealed her womanhood, and then the plump creases of skin beneath it. She opened her thighs wider, and his hand took her possessively.
This was so very different than touching herself.
Penelope’s breath hitched when he slid one finger inside. Havoc spiraled within as her need grew.
“You’re so wet for me,” Hugh breathed, “so very ready for me.”
And then his hand was gone. Penelope opened her eyes to find he was undoing his falls. A sharp stab of regret threatened to engulf her, but she would not allow it. If not now, when? If not Hugh, then who?
She barely caught sight of his manhood, protruding from a thatch of dark hair, before Hugh leaned forward again.
