Page 44 of One Dangerous Desire
“No.” He reached up to skim the backs of his fingers across her cheek. His hand trembled as he caressed her. “It makes you who you are. You’ve always been full of light, May. Good and kind and led by your heart.” As he spoke, he slid his hand down to press his heated palm to the bare skin above her square-necked gown. “What a gift to hope as you do.” He no longer trembled, but May had begun to shiver, not from cold but him. Rex was warm and so tantalizingly near, and she’d never wanted to be less good in her life.
Good girl. Spoiled girl. Rich girl.All the names they called her—her mother, her social-climbing friends, even the newspapers that reported every measure and misstep of million-dollar heiresses. She wasn’t a girl anymore, and being good had never gotten her anywhere. Pressing up onto her toes, she slid an arm around his neck, buried her fingers in his thick hair, and urged him down. Breathless with need, she only managed, “Kiss me.”
And he did, lowering his head just enough to slide his lips against hers, as if he’d tease her. But she was done with teasing and playing at flirtation in claustrophobic drawing rooms. In that moment she knew with utter clarity what she wanted, who she wanted, and how she wanted him to touch her. She pressed up taller, leaning into him until he reached an arm around to brace her. She didn’t wait to be kissed. Opening to him, touching her tongue to the seam of his lips, she felt him melt against her. Then he took control, using his hand to angle her head just so, using his arm to press her firmly into the hard, sheltering length of his body.
He stepped her back toward the settee and edged her onto the slippery damask. As soon as she sat, he dropped to his knees before her, gripping her hips and tugging so that he was between her legs, pressed into the tangle of her skirts.
“Please.” She’d never felt such need, such a desperate, aching craving in her life.
He kissed her again, but she wanted more. She started on his clothes, on his fashionable sapphire waistcoat and the buttons of his snow white shirt below. When she slid a finger inside, the muscles of his chest quivered, the warmth of his skin sending a wave of lust straight to her center.
“Tell me what you want, love. I’ll give you anything. Everything.”
“You,” she breathed against his mouth. “Just you.”
“You’ve always had me, May.” His hands traced the curves of her legs, tickling up her calves, firm fingers pressing into the flesh of her thighs as he lifted layers of petticoats and the thick fabric of her gown. He kissed her—long, breathless kisses—and explored her with his tongue. He pushed the fabric of her drawers aside and touched her where she craved him most, the center of all that need spiraling out to every part of her body.
Breaking their kiss, he pulled back to watch her face as his fingers explored her, stroked her brazenly where she’d rarely even dared to touch herself. She moaned when he crested a certain spot, raw and sensitive, and apparently the apex of all the pleasure in the universe.
May turned her head away. She couldn’t look at him as she lost every bit of control, as she sprawled like a wanton on the parlor sofa while he touched her as no man had ever touched her before.
“Look at me, love.” He’d never let her get away with hiding, from him or from herself.
She looked back at him. His tourmaline gaze wasn’t stormy anymore but clear, bright, burning from within. She was burning too, heat and sensation pushing her, pulling her, until she felt she’d come apart.
As if he sensed she was there, just at the edge, he whispered, “Trust me, May.”
She burst apart, sparks igniting along her skin, her body vibrating against him as pleasure washed over her, through her. Again, and again. She gripped his shoulder, pulling at the hair near his neck, trying not to scream, trying not to lose herself—and failing completely.
He reached up to stroke her back, pressed his mouth against her ear. “I’ve got you, love.”
“I do,” May rasped, her throat suddenly raw, as if the scream she’d held back had somehow escaped. “I do trust you.”
After settling her skirts around her legs, Rex pressed her back against the sofa. Her body still felt boneless, melted, and she tilted, half leaning onto a pillow in the corner.
The pillow shifted as a fearsome squawk pierced the air. An orange and white blur darted off the sofa, across the room, and into the darkened space beneath a curio cabinet.
“What the hell was that?”
May bit the corner of her lip, reached out to stroke his arm, and grinned. “Do you remember that kitten we found near Washington Square Park?”
“I told you to leave it.”
“I did. But then I went back. I couldn’t abandon her to fend for herself.” They’d spotted the little furry thing on a walk through the park. May had spent a sleepless night worrying over the kitten before returning the next day to claim her.
Rex ran a hand through his hair. With his other, he still gripped her possessively around the waist. “And you brought the cat all the way to London?”
“Father did when he sailed over. How could I leave her all alone in the New York house?”
Pursing his mouth as he stared at her, his eyes flickered with amusement. “Well, let’s meet her.”
May looked toward curio. “Duchess. Come out and meet Rex.”
“Duchess?” All the mirth faded from his gaze as he pulled his hand from her body. “You named her Duchess?”
“Yes.” May stood and bent down next to the curio to scoop the cat from underneath. It was the only way she’d get the persnickety creature out. Gathering Duchess gently, she cradled the dusty, frowning feline and turned so Rex could see her. “She’s rather imperious, so it suits her.”
He got to his feet and looked down to button his shirt and waistcoat. “Does it suit you?”
