Page 42 of To Pleasure a Prince
His mouth seized her other breast this time, sucking it with blatant hunger. Her heart’s mad drumming drowned out the tiny voice of conscience.
But not the music. Beyond the curtain a soaring, lilting aria sounded, a fitting counterpoint to the hot licks of his tongue over her nipple and the pulsing between her legs that she only seemed able to ease by rocking against his thigh.
“Yes, dearling, like that,” he whispered against her breast. “That will make your adventure all the better.”
“I wish you’d…stop calling it that…” Rubbing against him did feel exquisitely adventurous. Deliciously pleasurable. The more she rocked, the more her need seemed to tighten in that one aching spot, like a harp string wound in the tuning until its note arched higher and sweeter and purer—
A sudden burst of thunderous applause erupted around them, the sound shattering all her pleasure. Blinking, she drew back from him. Sweet heaven. She tugged hard on his hair. “Marcus, we must stop.”
“Yes,” he growled as he laved her nipple with his tongue, ignoring the way she pulled at his head. “Soon, dearling, soon…”
“Now,” she said firmly. “The first act must be ending.”
He lifted his head. “It hasn’t been long enough, trust me.”
She had no idea how long it had been. When he was kissing and touching her, she lost all track of time. “I’m sure the lights will come up any moment, and we cannot be seen coming out of the box together unchaperoned.”
When he just stared at her, his eyes blazing hot and hungry and his hands locked on her waist, she added in a whisper, “Please do not let me be ruined.”
His hands slackened. “Damn.” He didn’t try to stop her as she scrambled from his knee. “Confound it all to hell.”
If they did not leave soon, they would be caught together. But no respectable woman wandered the theater alone, either. “Come on!” she cried, jerking at his arm to make him rise. “We have to go!”
He rose stiffly, but then the applause petered out, and the music continued. “It was just the end of the aria. We still have time, thank God.”
She peeped around the curtain at the stage, wishing she could remember what Cicely had read to her from the translation yesterday. “But the first act will surely end soon.” Straightening her gown, she cursed herself for letting matters go so far. “We have to leave the box while no one’s in the hall to see us.”
“I can’t. Trust me, if I go with you into the light right now, you’ll be ruined the second anyone sees me.”
She stared at him uncomprehendingly.
He flashed her a rueful smile. “A woman can hide her arousal, dearling. A man cannot.”
A blush stained her cheeks as she remembered the outrageous information she’d wrangled out of her married friends about men and lovemaking. She resisted the scandalous impulse to drop her gaze.
“Can’t you…” She waved her hand vaguely in the area of his groin. “Can’t you do something?”
Fire flamed in his face. “I could make love to you on the floor, but somehow I don’t think that’s what you mean.”
“Certainly not!”
“Then we’ll have to wait it out.” His tone grew ironic. “Tell me about your cousin Whitmore. That will dampen my…er…ardor in a hurry.”
The request took her by surprise. “What do you want to know?”
“Why was he bothering you?”
Oh, Lord. With a shrug, she glanced away. “He wants to marry me. I said no. Again.”
“Again?”
“He asked before, and I refused. He chose not to accept my refusal.”
“So how many marriage proposals have you refused, anyway? Four? Five?”
“It hardly matters.”
“How many, Regina? And tell me the truth, or I’ll ask Miss Tremaine, who will surely tell me just to spite me.”
