Page 110 of Corrupting his Duchess
She ought to have asked for time.
Instead, she reached for him.
And kissed him.
It was hungry, every breath she’d swallowed these past weeks pouring out of her, every word she hadn’t said pressed into the way her mouth claimed his.
He responded instantly, a sound low in his throat, and then his arms were around her, firm and possessive, dragging her closer like he meant never to let go again.
She gasped softly against his lips, and he took it, deepened the kiss, his mouth slanting over hers with something that felt like both reverence and desperation.
Anna’s hands slid up his chest, gripping the lapels of his coat to anchor herself. She could feel the heat of him even through layers of cloth, and the hard line of his body as he pulled her flush against him.
His hand rose to cradle the side of her face, his thumb sweeping gently beneath her jaw while his other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her fast. When he angled his head, she parted her lips for him without thinking.
He kissed her like a man making up for lost time.
Her knees went soft. She clutched tighter. He murmured her name against her mouth like it was something sacred, something fragile.
And God help her– she was already his.
She broke away only to breathe, and even then he didn’t let go. His forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling in the cold.
“Say yes,” he whispered.
Her pulse pounded.
She looked up at him– lips swollen, breath unsteady, heart thundering.
And then she whispered, “Yes.”
She barely finished the word before he kissed her again.
This time it was slower, deep, aching, almost reverent but there was a different heat behind it now. One that curled low in her belly and stole the breath from her lungs.
His hands moved. One slid up the curve of her back, the other resting dangerously low at her waist. She felt the tremble in his fingers as he held her, barely restrained.
He broke the kiss just enough to speak, voice rough. “If you don’t stop me– ”
“I won’t,” she breathed.
He exhaled hard, like he’d been punched. “Anna– ”
She pulled him back down. Their mouths met again, urgent, hungry, their bodies pressed together as though they'd never get close enough.
And then she felt it, his hips against hers. Hard. Unapologetic.
He tried to step back. “We’re in the garden.”
“I know.”
His forehead dropped to hers. “If we do this now…”
“It won’t be enough,” she whispered. “But I want it anyway.”
He groaned into her mouth, kissed her again, kissed her like he couldn’t bear not to.
“I’ve imagined this,” he said against her skin. “Too many times.”
