Page 567 of From Rakes to Riches

Agiggle.

Was she the sort of woman who giggled now?

But that wasn’t the question at the top of her mind right now.

Right now, she had a question of more pressing urgency to ask of this man…

“You don’t think you’re finished, do you?”

“Aren’t I?” he asked, rising smoothly to his feet, his long, capable fingers working the falls of his trousers. Wickedness glinted in his eyes, belying the question.

“You haven’t sufficiently proven yourself a rake just yet,” she said, coy and breathless.

The falls released, and his length—thick…turgid…ready—fell forward, and Gemma sucked in a breath. She should feel silly, but she cared not.

There was noshould feelin this moment.

There was onlyfeel.

And what she felt was a wave of desire for this man so strong it might topple her over.

His eyes dark with intention, he stepped closer so his heavy length brushed against her bottom.Oh…the feeling of emptiness inside her… “I need you inside me,” she said…pleaded…begged. “Please.”

That delicious, wicked smile on his mouth, he took a hip in one hand and guided himself to her before entering her in one long, claiming stroke.

Oh, the moan that poured from her as she adjusted to the hard, slick feel of him inside her.

From behind like this felt sonaughty.

And so…good.

Hands masculine and slightly calloused from years of riding moved across her body, one settled at the base of her spine, the other on her shoulder. Masterfully, his hips moved, stroking in and out of her.

Oh, the fullness of him. It was as if her body had been incomplete all this time, and she hadn’t known it.

And now she did.

Her back arched, her body wanting—demanding—more.

“Oh, yes,” he growled.

Perspiration pinpricked her skin, as he squeezed her bottom and penetrated her with deep intention—harder…faster—and she was moving against him, unable to get enough of this pleasure and pain of union…ofhim.

She sensed his release building, his manhood somehow—impossibly—growing thicker and harder. The whirlwind caught her up again—it hadn’t quite finished with her, it seemed—and her body went light and variable as she strained against him, demanding more of what he offered…demandingeverything…

Sudden release expanded and broke within her—somehow…impossibly—and she was thrown to the elements—soul and spirit fracturing into sparks of lightning as her body came apart, her sex pulsing around his manhood, its demand unrelenting.

“Gemma,” he muttered. “I can’t…”

Then he was pulling from her, and she was crying out from the loss. She turned and collapsed back against the wall. His long fingers wrapped around his thick shaft as he took himself in hand and caught her gaze, holding it in his dark grip. Her mouth went dry as she watched him stroke himself, the sight strangely erotic and even more strangely intimate as he brought himself to release and spent onto the ground with a muted shout.

He reached out with his other hand and cupped the back of her head before pulling her toward him. Their lips met, not in headlong lust, but in…

Again, she felt it.

Tenderness.

This man and his contradictions. As if he spent his days fighting his true nature and here it was, revealed only to her. Notthe cold, controlling duke he presented. Nothing ran cold inside this man. He was all heat and passion and…tenderness.

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