Page 34 of Persuasions of an Earl's Daughter

She paused to gulp down a breath. He took in the sight of her swollen lips and hooded lids. It would probably be the last and only time he’d ever see her like this. Perhaps it would be enough.

“I’m not—”

“That sort of woman, I know.” He went to drop his hands from her face, but she moved quickly and laid her hands over the backs of his, keeping him there.

“I’m not certain what is happening here,” she said.

“Nor I.”

“But I cannot stop thinking about you, August.”

If someone had asked him to take his next breath on pain of death, he couldn’t have done so. If he breathed, he might forget the words, and he never wanted to forget that sweet admission.

“You make me as hard as a stone,” he replied, voice gritty. He wished the words were more elegant. He had them in him but with Lilly he couldn’t make use of them. Maybe it was the bastard in him showing his true colors.

It seemed she wanted the bastard. She moved his hands down until they were flat over her breasts. “You make me hard too.” She breathed deeply, teasing him with her hard nipples. “And wet,” she added breathily.

“Good God, Lil.” He might not have elegant words, but he never expected something so scandalous to escape the lips of the daughter of an earl. This woman was going to be the death of him, he swore, but by God, it would be a glorious death.

Chapter Twelve

At least if this was utter madness, Lilly could be assured they were both mad. The thought brought her some comfort as August gripped her to him, notching his arousal against her in a way that made her gasp. His muscles bunched beneath her fingertips and there was a wildness she’d never witnessed before in his eyes. Some might find it almost terrifying, but she found comfort in that too. They were both wild with desire and entirely incapable of fighting it.

He placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck and moved steadily down, kiss after kiss after kiss. Only by gripping him tight, was she able to remain standing. Her head swirled to the point she might faint, especially when he drew down the neckline of her gown and closed a mouth over the fabric of her chemise to tease a nipple. She couldn’t hold back a moan and leaned into the touch.

The future never much concerned Lilly. What would be would be. And she couldn’t think much beyond the room now, but she needed to know there was more.

So she asked for it.

“More.”

“I’ll give you everything, Lil.”

Who knew what everything was and who cared? So long as he kept touching her in such a manner.

He moved to the other nipple then up again. When she released a noise of disappointment, he covered it with his mouth and added a soothing hand to her breast, cupping it as she arched into him.

“Do you ever pleasure yourself?” he uttered between kisses.

She met his gaze and gathered her breath. Never before did she think she’d have such a conversation with any man, let alone August Beresford. Despite everything, her natural inclination was to deny it. The world looked down upon a woman taking pleasure for herself, even in the privacy of her own bedroom. But at least if she was to be carried away on a tide of passion it was with a man who had likely seen everything—a man who could show her more perhaps.

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

“Show you?” Lilly blinked rapidly. The idea, instead of piercing her with horror or doubt, made her flush with warmth.

He nodded and inched her back toward the bed until the backs of her knees met the mattress. He laid her down, scarcely looking away as he moved to lie beside her. Skimming a hand over her body then cupping her face, he kissed her deeply before meeting her gaze once more. “Show me,” he repeated.

Lilly observed his changing expression as she hitched up her skirts. Cool air grazed her heated center and August’s throat bobbed as he watched her slide her hand down and up under her skirts to touch her wet folds. Sparks of pleasure burst through her instantly. Taking her pleasure in front of August heightened every sensation and when she released a moan, he snatched her hand, making her freeze.

Wide-eyed, she stared at him. “What—”

“My turn.”

She barely had the chance to utter a faintohwhen he shifted down the bed. He moved her skirts higher so she could barely see him and as much as she missed seeing him, the strange sense of anonymity her garments gave her as though they were two masked strangers at a ball, connecting with the knowledge there would be no consequences, heightened every sensation. When he touched her with his fingers, she nearly sprang from the bed. Perhaps she should have known the touch of a man like August would make her wild.

He pressed two hands under her, and she felt herself open further to him.

---