Page 83 of The Good Duke
He narrowed his eyes.
Persephone centered her gaze with his.
“What?” she asked, because of course she would. The dauntless spitfire.
“Oh,” he slid off his desk, “I was just remembering our brief, humdrum exchange.” With slow, lazy slides, he headed for her.
Deep rosy color cascaded onto her cheeks, but warrioress that she was, Persephone remained rooted to her spot at the front of the room.
He stopped when he was but a pace away and settled a heated stare on her.
“Ah, the rogue’s seductive gaze. We’re doingthatagain.” Her beguiling lips twitched. “Never tell me,” she drawled in impressively bored tones, “you intend to lay me across your desk again?”
The long column of her throat moved wildly up and down, making a liar of her and her feigned indifference.
Simon curled his lips up into a wider, knowing smile and leaned close.
Her breath hitched.
“I’m not going to stretch you across my desk, Persephone,” he whispered, his lips a breath away from hers.
“Y-You aren’t?” Her disappointment was as palpable as her desire for him.
“I’m not.”
“Ohh,” Persephone’s utterance slipped into a swift, soft exhalation as Simon caressed a palm over a deliciously ample hip.
He placed his mouth close to her ear and whispered, “I’d never be sohumdrumas to do the same thing to you twice.”
Her breath caught. But she didn’t run.
“Nay, I’d propose something altogetherdifferent,” he purred.
“D-Different?”
“Another embrace to determine if my kiss is as mundane as you claim it is or whether it was a mind-blowing one ended too soon.”
“Y-You ended it,” she pointed out, her voice trembling.
Yes, he had. He knew better than to point out she’d negated her entire argument in just three words.
He screwed his face up into a mask of deep thought. “You are correct. There is only one thing to do—”
“To see who is right,” she interjected, oh so eagerly.
Simon stared at her lush lips, which tempted him with all manner of wicked uses he had for them.
Like a butterfly’s wings in a delicate, summer breeze, Persephone’s impossibly long dark lashes fluttered. Her chest heaved, bringing Simon’s gaze and appreciation to that glorious flesh, further emphasized by her corset.
His breath came harder and faster too as he undressed her with his eyes. He imagined her attired in nothing more than her tightly laced corset.
She lifted her mouth up to his.
Simon wasn’t one to be asked twice. Catching her by the jaw, he anchored her in place to receive his kiss.
She strained toward him with the same urgency that had sent her hips bucking a day ago, and he growled with masculine satisfaction.
“Eager to begin?” he taunted. Simon tightened the hand still on her hips and drove her gently but firmly against the door. The press of their bodies sent that panel knocking lightly once. Simon pinned her there with his body. “Or eager to see which of us is correct?”
