“Your lips are so much softer than I remember.”
Jasper wanted to sink to his knees.She’d thought about his lips?
He touched his mouth gently to hers at first, nibbling and teasing his tongue along the seam of her lips, but when she opened to him and brushed her tongue against his he surged inside with a groan. “You taste so good, Prue. I can’t get enough of you.”
He held her face in his hands and kissed her over and over again, his mouth soft and then desperate, his hips tight against hers, his cock at full attention. “I laid awake for hours last night, thinking about kissing you, touching you.”
Her gaze caught and held his, her tongue darting out to touch the corner of her lip where his mouth had just been, and good God, his entire body exploded with heat at the sight. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, with that wicked little tongue flicking over her lips.
He dragged the flat of his palm down her throat, pausing to feel the jump of her pulse against his skin. He wanted her, more than he’d ever believed it was possible to want anyone. “I want to see you,” he murmured, trailing his fingertip over the narrow band of velvet that trimmed the neckline of her bodice.
She nodded, her darkened gaze never leaving his face as he reached behind her to loosen the buttons of her gown one by one, his fingers clumsy, until he’d freed her from the last fold of her peacock-blue gown, leaving her in only her shift.
He stood back to take her in, his mouth going dry at the sight of her smooth, pale skin, the tempting shadows of her nipples under her thin, white-linen shift. “So pretty, Prue,” he whispered, sliding the backs of his fingers down her neck to her breasts. He plucked at her nipples with his fingers, brushing his thumbs over the peaks, a groan tearing from his throat as they hardened into tight points for him. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” She curled her fingers into his shirt, her breath coming in rough little pants. “Yes.”
He slid his hands down her body, pausing to squeeze her waist before catching a handful of her shift in his fist. He dragged it up, over the long, slender line of her legs and inched his fingers underneath it, his knuckles brushing against her thigh, his palm hot against the sweet curve of her belly.
She trembled against him, her forehead dropping to his chest as he circled his fingertips over her skin, drawing closer to the warm, needy place between her thighs with every sweep of his hand until at last—at last—he touched her core, caressing her gently. “I want to kiss you here, Prue.”
She gasped, her thighs trembling as he delved between her folds, his fingertip pressing against the hot, slick center of her. “I want to taste you right here. Will you let me do that? Will you let me taste you?”
She let out a choked whimper, and it was all the answer he needed.
Jasper caught her in his arms, but the bed was miles away, so he lowered her onto the top of the writing desk nearby and slid between her thighs, his desperate cock jerking at the press of her soft, warm core against him. “Hold on to me,” he whispered, then he dropped to his knees, nuzzling his face against her thigh. “Do you touch yourself here, sweetheart? Between your legs? Have you ever caressed that sweet little bud until you bring yourself pleasure?”
“Ah!” She gasped at the first touch of his tongue, just the lightest caress, hardly more than a breath, and God, he could listen to her hungry whimpers all night. He wanted to keep her right on the edge of this desk with her legs open to him until she was writhing for him, her throat hoarse from crying out.
But as soon as he tasted her, every thought—the wager, Angelo’s, her promise—emptied from his head until there was no holding back, nothing for him to do but give her what she needed.
She arched her back with a desperate, panting little whimper that went straight to his cock. He teased her quivering bud, circling and stroking with the tip of his tongue, his fingers curled around the backs of her thighs to hold her wide open to his mouth so he could feel the vibration of her every gasp and moan against his tongue.
“Jasper!” She threw her head back, reaching down to twist a hand in his hair and hold him against her as she shuddered through her release. He stayed with her as she peaked, then brought her down with long, gentle strokes of his tongue until the tension drained from her body, and she sagged against the desk with a sigh.
He collapsed against her, pressing a kiss to her thigh. He was aching for his own release, his cock pulsing with every heartbeat, throbbing with need. One or two strokes was all it would take, yet he hesitated, his fingers hovering over the buttons of his falls for an instant before he drew them away again.
Not this time. Not afterthat, when it had been so perfect between them.
Once his breathing had calmed, he gathered her into his arms and laid her gently on the bed, pausing only to trace her mouth with his fingertips before he slipped through the connecting door, leaving her with fluttering eyelids and a dreamy smile on her lips.
It was only after he’d closed the door behind him that he remembered.
The wager. He’d forgotten all about the wager.
CHAPTER22
As mad as Prue’s wager was, it did have one redeeming feature. By the time the evening of Basingstoke’s ball arrived, Jasper no longer cared that she’d won it.
Such was the power of thwarted desire, he no longer cared about much of anything aside from getting the damned ball over with, so he could admit defeat, withdraw his edict against Angelo’s, and take his wife to his bed.
Damned if he could remember why he’d ever objected in the first place.
He marched from one end of the entryway to the other, one eye on the black pumps Loftus had shined to a blinding gloss and the other on the stairs. He’d nearly worn the marble smooth as he waited for Prue to descend from her apartments so they might be on their way to Basingstoke’s ball.
Ten minutes, fifteen, a lifetime—
Thud.
