Page 80 of Saved By the Belle

“What are you doing in my bed?”

“Said I could have the bed,” she murmured. He smiled. So he’d been partly right.

“Why are you naked?”

A pause as, presumably, she came awake and became aware of the situation. “Do you like it?” Her voice was low and still gravelly from sleep.

“I think you can feel how much I like it.”

She moved her bottom, and he grasped her hips. “None of that or you won’t be a virgin much longer.”

“I keep telling you, I don’t want to be a virgin any longer.”

Before he could think what to do or say to that, she turned in his arms and threw a leg over him. Her warm sex pressed against his cock, and her mouth sought his.

The hesitations in the back of his mind fled, and he kissed her back. He’d been wanting this for so long. He’d been wanting her for so long. It seemed a lifetime he’d wanted her, though he’d only known her—what? a week? Hew couldn’t remember his life before her. And he didn’t want to imagine his life without her.

“Stop thinking so much and kiss me,” she said, moving her lips to nibble his ear. “You are always thinking.”

His hands were exploring her body, desperate to sample it before it was snatched away from him. She was so warm and the way she moved against him was so clumsy and, at the same time, incredibly erotic. She may not have ever done this before, but Hew already knew she would catch on fast.

God, he wanted to be the one to teach her—to learn from her.

“One of us has to think about the consequences,” he said. “One of us has to stop this.”

“It won’t be me,” she said, kissing his neck as her own hands began to explore. One skated down his back then found his buttocks and squeezed.

“Belle,” Hew said in a warning tone.

She giggled and brought her hand around. He caught her wrist before she could take his cock in her hand.

“If we don’t stop now, I won’t have the willpower.”

“Do you love me?” she asked, pulling back to see his face. “Willoughby says you love me.”

Hew didn’t think she could see him much better than he could see her. Her eyes glittered in the weak firelight, and only outlines of cheek, nose, and forehead were visible. But he could fill in the shadows with his memory of her. The tight line of her lips when she was angry. The fine brows above her deep brown eyes. The pink of her cheeks, especially the side that was scarred, when she was presented with a new tea.

Hew gathered her closer, still holding her wrist. “I do love you, Isabelle Howard.”

“And I love you,” she said, wriggling her hand free. “And that’s all that matters in this moment.”

He wanted to believe that. He did believe it when her hand slid around his cock.

“I know you don’t want to ever marry again,” she said, tracing a finger over him, seeming unsure what to do with him now that she had him.

Hew made a sound that was something like Gah. He wasn’t quite able to talk with the way she touched him. There was something to be said for awkward curiosity.

“But you’ll change your mind. You’ll beg me to marry you, and I might even agree.”

“Belle, stop.” To his dismay, she did stop. Her hand on his cock stilling. “As much as I want you, I don’t want to deceive you.”

“I’m not deceived. You don’t want to marry.” She slid her hand upward. “But you’ll change your mind, just as I have.” Her hand slid down again. “Your friend Willoughby said something tonight that made me realize marriage is the only way we can be together. And you want to be with me.”

“I do.” God, her hand was driving him to madness.

“You will beg me to marry you,” she said.

“I won’t.”

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