Page 63 of A Spinster for the Cold Duke

“Oh? Is that what it takes to shock you?” He murmured, and she glared at him. “But these are just mere words. I assure you, I candomuch more.”

The air between them crackled with tension. Henry could see the resolve wavering in the windows of her eyes and the way her breasts heaved, tempting and tempting him.

“I do not intend to let you play games with me,” she whispered.

Henry held her gaze. “And I do not intend to play games. You seem hellbent on not understanding me.”

“Because I don’t want to be some distraction for you. My reputation may be tarnished, but I’m not going to let you ruin it any further. I am?—”

“Mine.” The word was a growl against her ear as he backed her against the wall. “You’re mine, Annabelle, whether you admit it or not.”

She blinked back at him. Shock was evident in every crevice of her expression before she regained her senses.

“I’m not anyone’s,” she protested between clenched teeth.

“Aren’t you?” His hands braced against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. “Then why is your pulse racing? Why are you looking at me like you want me to kiss you?”

“I—”

“Aren’t you?” His mouth was inches from hers now. “Tell me to stop then.”

She blinked once, twice. Her hand fell on his chest, and she clutched his shirt.

“Henry…” she murmured, and his skin went up in flames.

“Tell me, darling. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

She drew in a sharp breath, glanced down at his lips, then back up at his eyes.

“Kiss me.” She uttered barely a sound. “Kiss me, Henry.”

Finally, he brought his lips to hers.

Heavens. This was paradise.

Swiftly, Annabelle kissed him back with equal fervor as her hands fisted in his shirt so she could pull him closer.

“God, Annabelle,” he breathed against her lips. “I’ve been wanting to do this all evening.”

His hands roamed her body with reverent hunger, tracing the curves emphasized by the emerald silk, and he felt her melt under his touch. When his mouth moved to her throat, she arched into him, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

“So beautiful,” he murmured against her skin. “So perfect.”

He was a thing made of nothing but desire and need right then.

His hands found the fastenings of her gown. Henry was not willing to stop himself any longer. He could barely even remember where they were, and rational thought had gone beyond his reach as his skillful fingers made quick work of her bodice.

“Henry,” she gasped as his mouth found the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. “We shouldn’t—someone might?—”

“No one will disturb us,” he assured her, his voice rough with desire. “I locked the door.”

He pushed the gown from her shoulders and stared. Her pale skin was slowly flushing red, and he couldn’t help but track it down towards the top of her breasts.

“My Annabelle,” he hissed, his heartbeat thundering in his ears and yet sounding so far away. “You have no idea how much I have thought about this very thing. So go on. Blush some more for me.”

As if in a trance, he leaned down and pressed his tongue against her collarbone and licked once. She shuddered underneath him, and he groaned against her skin, his manhood throbbing painfully.

“Henry—” she gasped. Her hands roamed across his chest, and her touch only spiked his desire.

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