Page 38 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
‘You are perfect for me, Mary.’
She laughed.
His eyes gleamed gold and then amber, changing and changing again in the light, as he swung her up into his arms and carried her inside the summerhouse. He gently put her down on the soft, cushioned, sofa.
Smiling like a fool, she sat upright.
She did not just love him, she adored him.
He dropped to one knee. ‘Mary…’ He took her hands from her lap and held them. ‘Marry me.’
Her stomach rolled a somersault.
His eyes were so earnest she believed he genuinely did care for her.
But what about her family? ‘I cannot answer yet. I am sorry. I need to think.’
His expression darkened. ‘But I may hope you will say yes?’
‘You may hope. I am not saying no.’ Mary bit her lip, afraid of what she’d said, of what she wanted to say.
His palm braced her cheek, they leaned towards one another, then kissed, as he remained on one knee, a supplicant before her.
The kiss burned like fire, as her blood ran with hunger and thirst.
He broke it. ‘Let me touch you. Let me love you. I will not take your virginity, I swear, I will leave you choice. You are right, marriage is more than a physical thing, but this is what I know, let me give you this and show you.’
The agreement was her body’s choice, the desire spiralled in her stomach, coiling to the point he’d touched between her legs. She nodded, her fingers sliding into his hair and pulling him back to her.
This kiss was firm, pressing against her mouth, as he rose from the floor, leaning over her so she had to lie back. His warm hand raised her knee, encouraging her to move her legs on to the sofa and lie down. His knee dipped the cushion beside hers as he lay down beside her.
His tongue came into her mouth, invading and caressing, and the heat of his palm caressed her breast.
Her nipple hardened with a sharp pain.
He broke the kiss and sat up. ‘I am too hot.’ He shed his morning coat and threw it on to a chair near the sofa. Then lay down beside her again, raised on one elbow, leaving one hand free. That hand reached to her dress and began lifting the hem.
Her heartbeat thundered. She should stop him. She had said no in the glasshouse. But she did not want to feel naïve with him. If they married, she wanted to be his equal. It was better she knew about this…
She pressed her heels into the sofa’s cushion, lifting her bottom and thighs so the material could slide up more easily as she held on to his gaze for reassurance.
When her hem slid to the top of her thighs he stopped.
A breath trembled in her lungs as he leaned in and kissed her. His hand settled on her breast and kneaded.
Her fingers shook as she swept the hair from his brow.
A firm column within his trousers pressed against her hip.
Need coiled through her abdomen again.
Her mother had told her very little about the marriage act, but Mary knew what happened, she had seen animals and she had seen her brothers naked when they swam in the lake, and she knew her own body.
His kiss urged her to reciprocate as his tongue circled hers. She did, her fingers holding his hair as their tongues played a breathless game, while her hips pressed up against his, feeling the column of his arousal.
His fingers left her breast and undid a few of the buttons securing her bodice, then his hand was within, and found its way beneath her chemise to the flesh of her breast.
Her fingers left his hair and searched for the buttons of his waistcoat.
