21
Shovinghis spectacles into his pocket, Harry claimed Tessa’s mouth. Tessa, being Tessa, kissed him back with a generous ardor that lay waste to his brain.
The fact that he was concealing his identity, that he had no idea how he would convince Tessa to marry him once he told her the truth (and never mind how her grandfather was going to react), that he wished he could offer her more than what he had…all worries were incinerated by the passion of their kiss.
There was only now. How sweet she tasted. How soft she was.
How perfectly her pert bottom nestled against his bulging cock.
For once, he was glad that she was dressed like a lad for it gave him easier access to what he wanted. What he craved. He tore off her jacket and cravat, burying his face in her neck, nuzzling the downy curve while his hand roved beneath the hem of her shirt. His palm covered one soft breast, his fingers playing with the budded tip, and she whimpered.
“You’re so sensitive,” he murmured. “I’d wager I could bring you to climax just by petting your breasts.”
“I’d put money on it,” she gasped.
His lips twitched at her candor. At the same time, guilt stabbed him at his mistreatment of her. His knee-jerk reaction had been wholly unfair; of the two of them, who was doing the true deceiving? Worse yet, he’d compared her with Celeste. Tessa had broken her word, true, but not to manipulate or hurt him. Her motivations had been pure, born out of loyalty and…love.
I’ve fallen in love with you, Bennett.
God, he didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve her.
And he bloodylongedfor the day when he could hear her call him by his real name. Still, he had her in his arms, and he wasn’t about to let opportunity go to waste. He pushed her shirt up; in the dim light, her skin gleamed like the finest alabaster. Her nipples were tight, beckoning rosebuds, and he leaned to suckle them.
Her hands clenched in his hair as he laved her eager tips. A minute later, she was panting, squirming in his lap. A minute and a half later, he unfastened her trousers, shoved his hand inside—and groaned at how ready she was. He slid a finger through her wet petals, finding and diddling her slick bud, and, a minute after that, she came.
He swallowed her cries, her shivers tightening his stones.
Staring at her pretty, flushed face, he reckoned Ambrose’s driver could circle a while longer. It was worth the risk to make Tessa come again for him, and, besides, it wouldn’t take long. For his sprite was as generous in her passion as she was in everything else. She gave him everything and held nothing back.
The thought made him randier than hell. He kissed the corner of her plump, decadent mouth. “Ready for another go, sweeting?”
Even though he knew the answer, when she whispered, “Oh, yes,” in the sultry voice of a woman who’s been thoroughly pleasured, he thought he might explode on the spot.
But he’d rather do that with his mouth between her legs, her sweet juice on his tongue.
“Lie back, love,” he instructed.
He lifted her from his lap, intending to lie her across the bench, but she wriggled out of his reach.
“I don’t want to,” she said firmly.
Not that he was surprised…but he was surprised. “Well. All right, I’ll tell the driver to—”
He broke off as she tossed her jacket onto the carriage floor by his boots. In a graceful movement, she went to kneel on top of the garment, making room for herself between his thighs. When her fingers started working on the placket of his trousers, he found his voice.
“Er, what are you doing?” He had his suspicions, and the very notion made his erection swell so fiercely that it threatened to pop off the buttons she was busily undoing.
“I don’t want to lie back. Last time, you said I could do to you what I liked you doing to me. And that’s what I want to do.”
Ah, Christ.Paralyzed by lust, he watched as she took hold of his cock. He was so burgeoned that her fingers scarcely fit around the girth, so sensitive that he could feel the pulsing of the raised veins beneath her fingers. Gently prying the erect beast from his belly, she looked up at him, the naughty gleam in her eyes straight out of his fantasies.
“I like touching you,” she said and proved it by running her fist from root to tip.
“I like your touch.”Understatement of the century.
“Am I doing this right?” Her mouth had a teasing curve. “I’m trying to recall the lesson you gave me last time, Professor.”
Hell, did she know that she’d just tapped into his erotic fantasy of her? Of taming his wicked minx, channeling her energy toward more pleasurable ends? With past lovers, he’d experienced varying degrees of intimacy, but never anything like this. Never this combination of lust, humor, and tenderness. Never this desire to prolong the lovemaking so that he could…play.
