Her nipples strained against the confines of her corset as his touch roved in a proprietary path down her body, and she lay there, brazenly stretched out for his perusal. Her lungs seized when he pushed her skirts and petticoats up in one swift motion. Air wafted against her stockinged calves, her bare thighs, her damp and aching sex. His shoulders wedged up against the back of her legs, spreading her wide. She trembled as he held her open and vulnerable, gazing at her with ravening hunger in his eyes.
“My wanton princess,” he murmured, “I’ve been dreaming of this.”
He lowered his head.
Oh my goodness.
Shock and pleasure spiked through her. This was unthinkable. Unspeakable. What he was doing with his tongue… She had to bite back a moan.
“You taste like nectar,” he said thickly. “Give me your sweetness, love. I want it all.”
Resistance dissolved in a honeyed rush. She gazed up dreamily at the plasterwork on the ceiling as his mouth claimed her. Cherubs frolicked amongst flowers as he wickedly licked, suckled, and consumed her sex.Lift yourself to my mouth. Let me feast on what is mine.Her head lolled against the carpet as sensation after sensation swamped her. She felt him part her humid folds, his tongue skillfully gliding to her eager peak.
Ecstasy swelled and broke. Pleasure spilled inside her like a bowl full of sugar, sweetness scattering into every nook and cranny. She lay there, boneless, steeped in bliss and sunlight.
“Time to get up.” His voice drifted through her stupor.
Languidly, she thought she probably ought to do so… if she could figure out how to get her limbs to move. Then the world shifted, and she found herself on her feet, Gabriel’s arm steadying her around the waist. Her hands came to rest against his waistcoat, feeling his strong heartbeat as he set her to rights.
“Good as new,” he said.
He gave her a gentle, almost courtly kiss. She tasted herself on his lips, and despite her satiated state, sensual awareness rippled through her.
Glancing down, she saw his bulging arousal. “You didn’t…”
He donned his jacket with studied carelessness, the charcoal superfine covering the affected area. “Today it was my pleasure to see to yours. At a time of my choosing, you will see to mine.”
Said with utterly male confidence, his words sent intriguing possibilities flashing through her head. She blushed—it was amazing that she could still do so after what had just transpired on the library floor. Even more amazing was how perfectly civilized he looked, with nary a hair out of place, his cravat pristinely knotted. He was every inch the proper Angel—unless one looked in his eyes.
Dark grey and devilish, they gleamed with satisfaction.
“We’d better go.” He offered her his arm. “I think you’ve had enough lessons for the day, hmm?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Why the hell did I allow this?
The next day, the question circled in Gabriel’s mind just as his carriage was circling the block of the Davenport residence. He saw nothing untoward about the Palladian mansion, yet his gut was knotted with tension. Around the corner, his conveyance pulled to a stop. The door opened, and Strathaven stepped in. Under the pretense of taking a stroll, the other had been surveying the townhouse up close.
Scowling, the duke dropped onto the opposite seat, tossing his hat onto the cushions. He parted the curtain, his pale gaze centered on the quiet house. “All I saw through the window was a gaggle of ladies gossiping over tea. No sign of Emma and the others. They’re probably searching the place.”
At the thought of Thea prowling through the premises like a seasoned agent, the knots in Gabriel tightened. “Devil take it, I can’t believe I let her talk me into this.”
“Trust me, I know the feeling. But if you intend to marry Dorothea,”—the duke arched a brow—“you might as well get used to it.”
“Of course I intend to marry her.” Moodily, Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck. “As soon as this affair with the Spectre is over, I’ll talk to Kent. Or you, I suppose.”
“We could talk now. Seeing as we have time on our hands.”
Hearing the trace of humor in the other’s voice, he said stiffly, “I’m glad you find the situation entertaining. Considering the ladies may be in peril, I find little amusing about it.”
“I’m not amused; I’m resigned. It’s a common condition when one is wed to a Kent. You’ll learn soon enough,” the duke said mildly. “So why do you want to marry Dorothea?”
“What do you meanwhy?”
The other gave him an innocent look. “If you’re asking my permission for her hand, you ought to at least come prepared with some convincing arguments.”
He was on edge enough as it was and in no mood for the duke’s sardonic wit.
