“Stop trying to intimidate me with your… your seductive wiles!”
“So you do find me seductive.”
“I donot.”
“You can’t hide the truth from me, Emma.” In a swift motion, he caught her wrists in one hand, pinned them above her head. He leaned in, heat sizzling in the sliver of air between them. “You melt for me every time we touch.”
“No, I don’t—”
In favor of expedience, he kissed her.
She struggled, and he gave her no quarter, holding her in place. He took her mouth, her flavor flooding his senses, his anger exploding into raw desire. Within seconds, she surrendered, yielding with a delicious sigh. Driving his tongue home, he pressed his hard, aroused body against her willing softness.
Restrained, her passion burned even more brightly. Her soft little body stretched tantalizingly against his own hard edges, and he felt like he was on a rack of pleasure as she strained against him, her eyes glazed with desire, her stiff nipples teasing his chest through layers of fabric.
His mind warned him of the dangers; the door was open, anyone could see them.
That only heated his bloodmore.
He tossed up her skirts with his free hand, his lungs burning as he encountered the silken softness of her thighs. He covered her mouth with his own, drinking in her gasp, shuddering as his questing fingers found her damp curls and the slick petals within.
By God, she had the softest, wettest little cunny.
When he circled her pearl, she moaned.
“Be very quiet,” he whispered. “Unless you want to get caught.”
Understanding widened her eyes. At the same time, her hips lurched helplessly against his hand. She bit down on her bottom lip as he played with her love-knot, stroking it, titillating the bold nub as he held her against the wall. Her color rose, her bosom surging, and he knew she was close to her climax. Rolling her clit with his thumb, he slid his middle finger along her plump cleft.
He held her gaze as he pushed inside her virginal hole.
She was hot, wet, so tight. So bloodyperfect.
“God, why can’t I get enough of you?” he rasped against her ear.
Her lips parted on a soundless cry.
He barely restrained his own groan as she came, the lush flutters making his erection jerk beneath his robe, a spurt of pre-spend scorching his belly. He gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to replace his finger with his cock, to take her here and now—
“Annabel, it’s been lovely chatting.” Marianne Kent’s overly loud voice drifted through the doorway. “I think it’s time we go check on Emma and his grace.”
Panting, Emma stared at him in mute panic.
In the next instant, he shoved himself away from her. In the nick of time, he got back into bed and tossed the covers over himself. His heart hammered, his loins throbbed. Every cell of his body hummed with need.
“Emma, are you finished visiting?” Mrs. Kent entered with Annabel behind her. “I have other calls to make today.”
“Y-yes,” Emma stammered.
“We’ll take our leave then, your grace.” Mrs. Kent took her charge’s arm, turned to go.
He collected his wits. “Miss Kent?”
“Yes?” Emma faced him, her color heightening.
“I trust you will not forget ourtête-à-têtetoday.” He gave her his most quelling, ducal stare. “There’s to be no more talk of you sleuthing about. We have an understanding, do we not?”
Annoyance flashed in her gaze. Her chin high, she said, “You have yours, and I have mine.” Even her curtsy was defiant. “Good day, your grace.”
