Page 62 of His Enemy Duchess

“In that case, I’d like to borrow… you.”

She expected him to look confused or angry.

Nothing. He had the same solid-faced expression as if he had just been told that the weather tomorrow would be the same.

“That’s not something you can borrow, and you know it,” he said evenly. “Do you realize what you are asking of me?”

“We are husband and wife, are we not? I’m just…” She stumbled on her words for a bit. “I’m curious. I’m just curious… I am not naïve, Thomas. I know we don’t love each other, and I know I’ll probably never find someone who truly loves me. I know I’ll never experiencelovemaking. But I still want to try it. That’s why I said borrow, not have.”

“It will complicate things,” he said, rising slowly from his chair.

She groaned, and her face dropped. A few moments of silence filled the air. “You are right. Please forget I said anything.”

She turned to leave, furious with herself.

How could she have allowed herself to even think that he would agree to her favor? Clearly, he had just been toying with her in the stable yard, or she had asked for too much.

You are an idiot. A blithering, stupid idiot.

“Sophia,”she heard him shout behind her, and she turned, freezing in place. He sounded furious.

Oh no… what have I done?

He moved towards her, his face contorted into a violent mask of anger.

I went too far. I shouldn’t have done that…

It was finally going to happen. What she had been warned about. The legacy of the Pratt family and their violent tendencies. Murderers and bullies, their lot, was what her uncle always said. This was what she had always been afraid of, and it was finally about to happen.

She closed her eyes and flinched, expecting the worst.

She felt Thomas place his hands on her shoulders and then…

“I never said I was against complicating things,” he murmured, and then kissed her with such passion that it would have knocked her off her feet if his arm had not encircled her waist, pulling her to him.

Her body was overtaken with an immediate but conflicted sense of relief as she kissed him back without hesitation, praying that when she turned the metaphorical page, it would not be like her books, leaving her guessing.

“I have to have clarity,” he said, breaking the kiss for a moment. “What is it you want?”

She swallowed thickly. “I want…” Her heart leaped. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“I must insist,” he replied, cradling her face.

She took a deep breath. “I want… you, Thomas. That is my favor.”

“With pleasure,” he whispered, bringing his lips closer to hers. “Yoursandmine.”

CHAPTER 22

Sophia shivered on the edge of the mahogany desk, lying half in repose with her husband on his knees, between her thighs. She would ride a hundred races and win if it meant feeling his tongue and his caresses like this, as if she had transcended to another realm of existence where only pleasure and good things were allowed, and all bad things were forbidden.

I have missed this,she wanted to tell him, but only soft moans and rasping gasps could escape her lips. Besides, how could she say that she missed what she had barely had? Unless it was the scarcity that made her miss it, like sampling the most delicious tart at a ball once and never being able to find that same taste again.

“Oh, Thomas! Yes… yes!” she cried out as his tongue hit her swollen bud just right, paired with the exquisite pulse of his fingers deep inside her.

She had been building towards this moment, braced for the ecstasy, and as it struck her like a crashing wave against the cliff of her resolve, she was not disappointed. What she had asked for, thus far, had not been a waste of the favor.

“Yes!” she panted, gripping fistfuls of papers, not caring if they were important, as pleasure in its rawest form powered through her veins.

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