Page 131 of The Good Duke
They arrived at Simon’s residence.
The minute the door opened, a footman collected Astrid, while another strapping fellow helped Persephone down. Without so much as a glance back, she continued down the paved walkway.
A low growl formed in Simon’s throat and the servant who’d helped her down hurriedly stepped out of his way.
Simon caught up to Persephone when she entered the foyer.
“You seemed to have a lovely time with Lord Bute, Miss Forsyth,” he noted out the corner of his mouth as he fell into step beside her.
Crimson color fanned across her cheeks; Persephone abruptly stopped. “I would ask to speak with you in your offices, Your Grace,” she said quietly.
Simon sketched a mocking bow. “My pleasure,Miss Forsyth.”
Nearby servants exchanged nervous looks, and then wisely took themselves elsewhere.
The minute Simon and Persephone reached his office, and had the door shut behind them, Persephone lit into him. “What are you doing, Simon?” she hissed. “Carrying on like that in front ofservants?”
“And what of the way you were carrying on with Lord Bute?” For when Simon got down to it, that was really at the heart of his upset.
She gasped. “Youwere the one who invited me along and your bride-to-be whoinsistedI walk with the marquess. What should I have done? Gone counter to the lady’s request?”
He flattened his lips and started over to his desk. God, how he despised Persephone for being correct.
Persephone stormed over and placed herself in his path. “What do you want of me, Simon?” she demanded, fire in her eyes and her chest heaving. “What would you have me say?”
“Nothing,” he said harshly.
“Then what do you want from me?”
Her.He wanted her.
They stared at one another a moment, and then, as one, Simon and Persephone met in an explosive embrace.
All the suppressed longing, all the frustration at denying himself that which he wanted leant a frenzied, near violence to Simon’s every action—which Persephone met with equal ardor.
“You love when I’m rough with you, Persephone,” he rasped between kisses, running his hands all over her.
He filled his hands with Persephone’s plump arse and dug his fingers into the lush globes in a way he’d wager hurt, but only a soft, hungry moan escaped her.
“You loved that time I spanked you and wanted me to keep bringing my palm down over your luscious buttocks until you were numb from the pleasure and pain of it,” he said harshly.
Persephone released a long, throaty moan and gyrated her hips against his hard cock.
“You’ve been remiss in your duties, Miss Forsyth,” he tempted and taunted, guiding her skirts slowly up, inch by inch.
“H-have I?” she whispered, out of breath with want, and the evidence of her desire for him and not that fucking pompous Lord Bute sent another rush of blood to Simon’s already aching cock.
“Oh, yes.” Simon continued to lift her dress, exposing more and more of her skin. “You’ve not asked me once about my time with Lady Isabelle,” he murmured, placing a kiss upon her neck.
“H-haven’t I?” she asked, breathless.
“No.”
“I’m sure I dii—” Persephone’s argument ended on a sharp hiss as he slipped his hand between her legs and cupped her womanhood.
Her eyes slid shut.
A grin of male satisfaction formed on his lips. “You didn’t.”
