Page 162 of The Good Duke
He went motionless—only for a moment, and then with a growl, he consumed Persephone’s lips with a like violence.
They mated with their mouths like two primal beings, attempting to devour and consume the other.
“God, you infuriate me,” he rasped between each angry slant of his mouth.
“And y-yet you are k-kissing me,” she pointed out, breathless from the force of their embrace.
“And yet I’m kissing you.” Gripping Persephone under her buttocks, Simon perched her on the edge of the table and shoved her skirts up so he could step between them.
She didn’t even think about all the reasons she should stop; the hungering to continue proved as necessary as the air in her lungs. Persephone wrapped her legs about his waist to hug him closer.
Simon sank to the floor and knelt between her legs.
“S-Simon,” she whispered. “We c-can’t.”
“Can’t we?” he murmured, pressing a kiss along the inside of her inner thigh.
She trembled. She lost hold of the firmer protestations she intended to make.
The warm sough of his breath upon Persephone’s already sodden center brought her eyes sliding shut. Her body moved of its own volition as she tilted her hips up, arching to feel his mouth where she needed him.
He paused.
Persephone bit her lip to keep from crying out.
She forced her eyes, heavy with desire, open and found Simon staring up at her. A question lived in his gaze, one that indicated he’d have her tell him to either continue worshiping her so or stop.
And even with a team of seamstresses a room away, Persephone couldn’t bring herself to stop Simon.
Not breaking contact with his eyes, she gripped Simon by his glorious, golden hair and guided him to that place she needed him most.
As generous in lovemaking as he was in life, Simon gave Persephone what she craved.
He slipped his tongue inside her channel and licked her. Consumed her like she was the only sustenance he needed to live, until Persephone was incoherent with want.
The throbbing between her legs grew to a point of bliss bordering on pain, and Persephone rocked against his skilled mouth.
Her movements took on a greater frenzy.
Simon teased her clitoris with his tongue; he flicked that hot flesh over the pleasure point over and over until Persephone gritted her teeth to keep from screaming for him to give her what she needed.
And because he always knew what she wanted and needed, Simon sucked her and then slid a finger inside. Biting back a scream, Persephone closed her eyes and surrendered herself to all the love and longing she’d felt for Simon from the moment he’d come crashing back into her life.
Chapter 30
God, she was radiant. She always had been.
Now, Simon, his hands filled with packages and trailing just behind Persephone, soaked in this carefree sight of her, as she’d not been once since their time together in London.
A slight, rosy hue filled her cheeks, and the same sparkle that had glittered in her luminous brown eyes since she’d allowed herself to enjoy being at Madam Colette’s hadn’t faded.
Even with her back to him, Simon could state that as an absolute fact.
Because he knew so much about her. She moved with that sprightly spring to her step that signaled her happiness and excitement. The wild way her hands flew about as she spoke punctuated each word rapidly flying from her lips.
Given their history, Simon wasn’t so arrogant or naïve to believe he knew all the nuances that made Persephone,Persephone.
He’d never once doubted she’d grow into a clever, spirited, courageous woman—after all, she’d been all those things and more as a girl. Simon, however, had been born and raised in the peerage. He knew the young sons and daughters of respectable families ultimately went on to have their spirits crushed and become vapid shadows of the colorful people they once were.
