“I was abiding by rule number two. I simply needed to… pause.”
She’d told him she wanted more.
More.
But even after he’d gotten sick, she’d refused to leave. In fact, she’d seemed to dig in a little deeper. Were those actual claws in his heart?
Like a bloody angel sent from heaven above, she’d flitted around his room, gathering the supplies she’d needed to care for his injuries. And after removing his shirt, her touch had been lighter and sweeter than anything he’d ever experienced.
And now. She was here. In the secret domain of his operations.
Only vaguely aware of anything but Amelia, Leopold leaned forward and skimmed his jaw along hers.
She leaned into his touch. “You’re going to kiss me again.” It wasn’t really a question.
“I think so.” He chuckled a little. Leopold pulled away just enough to read her eyes. “Do you want me to kiss you again?”
“I think so,” she said. “But doyouwant to kissme?”
He answered with a low growl, and then looped the rope of her braid around his fist.
When he tugged on it, she tipped her head back, and her rosebud lips parted with a melodic sigh.
So damned pretty. Leopold took a moment to appreciate the view. In the flickering light of the sconces, her ivory neck begged for his mouth. Vulnerable. Tender.
“Mr. Beckworth.” His name on her lips was little more than a moan. Still so formal, at least in this.
It was endearing.
Today, he was physically exhausted, but he was even more exhausted from fighting himself.
And she had come to him. Again.
She wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted.
“Amelia?” He paused and when she opened her eyes, her pupils edged out most of the blue, making them look darker than usual. “Do you still want more?”
“I’ll always want more,” she admitted, making his heart throb harder than his cock—if that was even possible.
Leopold exhaled through his nostrils, his eyes locked with hers. She wouldn’t be with him much longer. All too soon, she’d return to her life as Lady Amelia. The life of the very proper aristocracy, where everyone followed the rules, always.
But today, she wanted him.
He crushed his mouth against hers almost savagely. She welcomed it, and he couldn’t be sure which of them groaned. Perhaps both of them.
And although he’d never liked tea, on Amelia’s lips, it tasted rich and strong but also sweet. Much like this woman.
“I could do this forever,” he said.
When she nipped at his bottom lip, he conceded that he was going to have to revisit more than one of his former opinions.
Because kissing Lady Amelia Crowley changed everything.
At some point, she’d locked her legs around his waist. Their tongues sparred. Their teeth clashed. And her hands, which had been so gentle the night before, dug into his back.
Last night, she’d been on her knees, staring at him with an irresistible combination of innocence and temptress dancing in her eyes. Today, he’d do the kneeling.
Tearing his mouth away, he cradled her cheeks, the prettiest pink he’d ever seen. “I’ll stop if you want.”
