Hargrove didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he slid the cap sleeve of her gown down her right shoulder.
This was going farther than she’d ever intended with any man who wasn’t her fiancé.Her real fiancé!After all, only a kiss was necessary to be compromised if properly discovered at the opportune moment. But Hargrove seemed intent on much more.
After drawing down her other sleeve, he tugged at her neckline until the entire gown fell, exposing her stays and under it, her shift.
They weren’t in a place where they needed to stop for fear of slippery sea creatures around their ankles, nor even an assembly host or hostess coming upon them. And as her heartbeat raced and her body turned molten, Glynnis wasn’t sure she wanted the viscount to stop.
Or at least, not before she experienced what she’d imagined — his wicked mouth upon her nipple.
“Yes,” she said.
To her delight, with the smallest rearranging of her shift, he gave himself complete access. When the night air caressed her skin, she felt her already-sensitive buds pucker.
“Mm,”he said, the first she’d heard from him in many minutes, just before his mouth latched onto one of her pert nipples, teasing it.
How was it possible she could feel his ministrations as if he were doing the very same between her legs?
Growing damp, she started to squirm as the pulsing sensation increased. Feeling suddenly desperate to shed more of her clothing and fiercely wishing to tear his off as well, she started to work on the buttons of his waistcoat.
His mouth moved to her other breast, sucking her nipple into his hot mouth.
“Yes,” she hissed again. With his vest open, she yanked upon his shirt until it was free of his breeches. Finally, she could touch his skin. Sliding her hands under the linen shirt, she splayed her fingers across his flat stomach.
His skin was smooth and warm, and she wanted to map out every inch of him. To that end, she sent her hands roaming higher over his tautly muscled stomach until she found his nipples, the tiniest of nubs. Gently, she stroked them.
Hargrove growled against her breast. She would have continued her explorations, but suddenly his hands went to her waist. In a swift motion, he lifted her backward, setting her onto the bed. She gasped.
While raising her dress and dragging her long chemise along with it, he stepped between her legs.
With her breasts uncovered and his hands gathering her skirts ever higher, his fingers scraping up her thighs, Glynnis — overwhelmed with sensations and passion, not to mention a healthy dose of trepidation — tossed herself backward onto the counterpane. Her legs dangled over the side of the bed, and Hargrove remained wedged between them.
“Will you ruin me?” she asked him, flinging her arm over her eyes.
***
WITH HIS COCK IMPOSSIBLYhard inside his breeches and his heart pounding, her words filtered into his lust-filled brain. James froze.
He had ruined young ladies before. Of that he had no doubt — usually because they’d willingly, wantonly, wonderfully pushed him too far, dangling their soft, curvy assets before him.
“I will not marry you,” he’d told an eager miss while they were behind a tree at Vauxhall, away from her chaperone.
“I don’t care a whit,” she had declared. “Just touch me again, my lord. Yes, there!” And a minute later, when her skirts were up and she was bent over a stone bench, and he’d repeated his warning about marriage, she’d added, “If you would be so kind as to ease my ardent excitement with your rod.”
James was always shocked by how much these marriage-aged daughters of thetonknew about amorous conduct, and even more surprised by how much pent-up tension they had. So much that even with the risk of being ruined, they let him penetrate their sacred passages. Naturally, after making sure they were satisfied, he always pulled out in time to avoid consequences.
Predictably, a handful of them began to push for an engagement as soon as the deed was done. Patiently, he would remind them a third time of his utter abhorrence to being roped into matrimony. After they’d arranged themselves and smoothed their skirts, he would escort each woman back to wherever she belonged and never see her again.
But this was Miss Talbot. He already knew she had a fiancé. Moreover, he’d managed to resist her before. If he were to wager a guess, he would say she was as passionate as he was and as attracted to him as he to her. Yet that didn’t excuse him willingly destroying her chance of marriage with no more motivation than to relieve his curiosity and his stifled desire.
With the strength of Achilles, James drew back, stepping out of the warm, beckoning area between her thighs.
“I became carried away,” he said quietly, wanting her more than he’d ever wanted any woman. He hoped it wasn’t simple competition with Dodd that had spurred him to this mad behavior.
Miss Talbot rose to her elbows, still reclined on the bed. He darted a hand out and sent her skirts dashing back down to her ankles.
“I suppose we both did,” she said, watching him with her big brown eyes. “Somehow, you stopped yourself from taking it too far for which I am grateful.”
No female had ever uttered those words to him before.
