Page 56 of An Innocent Maid for the Duke
He popped the cork and poured them each a glass and raised his in a toast. ‘To us.’
‘To us.’ She sipped. Tart and a tickle on her tongue. ‘So that is what champagne tastes like.’ She made a face.
‘The more you drink, the better it gets.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Are you trying to get me tipsy?’
‘Not at all.’ He pulled her to her feet and sat down in her chair, lifting her on to his lap. ‘Well, perhaps a little. You looked nervous when I came in.’ His fingers cradled her jaw and he gazed down into her eyes. ‘You aren’t afraid of me, are you, Rose? I would not hurt you for the world.’
Not physically, at least. Though she had no doubt she’d be devastated when he married. But if this was all she would ever have of him, shouldn’t she take it? ‘Not in the least bit afraid.’ She inhaled a shaky breath and wondered if that was what her mother had thought, too? Well, at least she wasn’t leaving the issue of conception to chance. Or to him.
Then there was no more room for doubts, for he was kissing her, tenderly at first, gently, but when she parted her lips his tongue went questing and tasting and the sensations inside her were almost more than she could bear.
She twined her arms around his neck and went questing on her own account, inhaling the clean scent of him, soap and something earthy. His cologne. Stroking the inside of his mouth with her tongue, she was entranced by the slide of their mutual tasting.
Sensations rippled through her body, heat, tingles, shivers. Her skin felt alive and aching for his touch. Her palms wandered the breadth of his shoulders, her fingers slid through the tendrils of his hair at his nape. His heart slammed a beat against her breasts and made them feel full. She pressed hard against him.
Breathing heavily, he eased away from her, brushing her hair back from her face, gazing into her eyes with a slumberous heat that she felt all the way to the place deep between her thighs.
Even if she had wanted to resist him, she couldn’t. And not because of the attraction, the primal desire she felt for him, but because she sensed he needed her help to forget his duty and responsibilities for a short time.
It made her feel important. To him.
Something she had never felt before. She’d been useful, yes, but never had she felt as if it wasshewho was needed, not just because of what she could do with her two hands, but because of who she was as a person.
This was how it must feel to be part of a family. To mean something to another person. And she was going to make the most of it while it lasted. She would not think about the future.
She brushed the errant lock of hair back from his forehead and kissed the tip of his nose.
He grinned and gave her an affectionate squeeze. ‘That’s more like my Rose.’
His Rose. It sounded wonderful. Heart-wrenchingly so.
She pushed the thought aside. She would enjoy the moment. And if that was what her mother had done, then so be it. For if she had not, Rose would not exist at all, now would she?
He reached around her, picked up her glass and handed it to her. She took another sip. Fewer bubbles, less tart on her tongue. ‘You are right, it is quite pleasant when you get used to it.’
‘Like many things.’ He nuzzled into her neck, kissing and nibbling until shivers raced this way and that all over her skin. ‘I want to lick you all over, you smell so good,’ he said against her skin.
The idea sounded intriguing. Her insides fluttered alarmingly. ‘You wouldn’t!’
He groaned. ‘I would. In a heartbeat, were you ready for such games. The very idea of it makes me—’ He choked off what he had been going to say.
She pushed away from him. ‘Makes you?’
‘It arouses me to the point where I can no longer think.’
There was no mistaking the bulge of his erection beneath her. She burrowed a hand between them and shaped his length with her fingers. He arched into her hand, eyes closing, his expression intense as if he would savour every touch.
Recalling some of the talk she’d heard among the girls at the V&V, she set her glass down and slid one knee between the outside of his thigh and the chair and then twisted to straddle him, holding his face between her hands and kissing his lips. She shifted forward to seat herself on his lap.
His hips lifted and the contact of his hardness against that particular spot was startling, and so delicious, she wiggled herself more firmly against him.
He groaned and cupped her nape and deepened the kiss, while rocking his hips in a rhythm that had her moaning into his mouth and trying to get closer. In a surge of movement that took her by surprise and made her squeak, he rose from the chair. She clung on for dear life.
He took the two steps between the chair and the bed and, leaning forward, lowered her on to the counterpane. Reluctantly, she released him and lay back. With a smouldering glance at the way she lay sprawled before him, he toed off his shoes, and stripped out of his clothes.
She let her gaze wander over his magnificent body. A virile healthy male who was rampantly aroused. ‘I want to lick you all over, too,’ she whispered.
