Page 31 of Snowed In with the Jilted Duke

"Pippa," he groaned, and his mouth slid down to fasten over one breast, lips and teeth and tongue playing with her as his hand cupped and teased the other.

Her back arched as she went aflame, pleasure concentrated on those two points before it flooded through her and down to the sensitive flesh between her legs.

She clutched at his hair, keeping him close, and he chuckled against her skin.

"I knew you would like that."

He suckled her again and she moaned, her hands scrabbling to unbutton first his coat and then his waistcoat, tugging the shirt from his trousers until she could touch his bare skin, and he jerked against her with a groan of his own.

He lunged back up to kiss her as he shrugged out of his coat and waistcoat, bearing her back onto the felt-covered table. As her hands roamed his back beneath his shirt, his hand slid under her skirt and up her thigh, teasing her until she moaned and pushed up against him.

“Pippa?”

His voice was hoarse and unsure, so she pulled his head back down for another kiss, spreading her legs and arching her back until his fingers finally reached the spot where she needed him.

Shamefully, guiltily, she had touched herself there while thinking of him after their first kiss. She had known it was wrong to imagine her sister’s betrothed touching her like a lover, but she had been unable to resist the fantasy, imagining her hand was his. Ultimately, any pleasure she had brought herself had been subsumed with embarrassment at her weakness.

Reality was far better. She panted against his mouth as his fingers stroked her, his breath coming faster as they slid through her moisture. She gasped as he found her entrance and slipped a finger inside, stretching her.

He stopped and pulled a little away. “Are you all right?”

“Again. More,” she demanded, and pulled him back down to her, yanking his shirt up until his hair-roughened chest was against hers, and he surrendered with a groan, creating magic between her thighs that came in waves, sending her soaring higher and higher until it all paused for a breathless moment and the waves broke, separating into pulses of pleasure.

As the storm receded, she opened her eyes to see him looking down at her, his expression dazed, drunk with passion.

“Pippa, I⁠—”

The doorknob rattled, and sudden voices in the hallway signaled they were not alone. Oliver sprang back, his eyes wild as he thrust his shirt back into his trousers and bent to grab his waistcoat and jacket.

His eyes lingered on her as she tried to put herself to rights, pulling her skirts down and her bodice up, her hands shaking. He crossed to her and put his hands over hers until she looked up at him.

He kissed her briefly, and her panic eased.

“You can slip out through the music room,” he said.

“My hair is a disaster.”

“You look beautiful, pigeon.”

Her breath left her for a moment at the endearment, until the doorknob rattled again. With his waistcoat still unbuttoned, Oliver escorted her to a trompe l’oeil door painted to look like part of the wainscoting. He pushed it open and helped her over the high threshold into the empty music room with another kiss.

“I’ll distract them while you make your escape. How do I look?”

Her eyes drank him in. His cravat was hopelessly tangled and his hair nearly stood on end. His eyes were still heavy with passion as they met hers.

“You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen,” she said, and ducked away as he closed the door behind her.

Pippa snuck out of the music room as soon as the voices in the hallway moved into the billiards room. She sped up the stairs, avoiding any relatives who might see her, and slammed the bedroom door behind her, leaning against it as she caught her breath.

That had been… far too close. If Oliver had forgotten to lock the door, there would have been no tamping the scandal down. One of the servants would have been sent to fetch the vicar first thing in the morning, and then… and then the explanations would need to be given. None of them would look at her the same way again once they knew she was Pippa, not Penny. The Montgomery family would be socially ruined even before it was revealed no one knew where Penny was.

She stiffened her spine. She must avoid being alone with Oliver again. Clearly, they were unable to control themselves, so she must be the one to call a halt.

Until Penny returned to officially free him of their engagement, Pippa must consider Oliver to be what he had always been: her sister’s promised husband.

She crossed to the bell pull at the corner of the room and sat on the small sofa to remove her dancing slippers while she waited for Sally. To her shame, her body still hummed with pleasure, and she tried to ignore it as best she could. The fact that she and Oliver were… were physically compatible meant nothing against the disaster that awaited them if they were discovered.

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