Page 70 of Ruthless with a Rogue
When they’d kissed before in this very room—heavens, that kiss seemed like a lifetime ago—it’d been a claiming, a war waged, one against the other, even if the lust had been shared.The intent to seduce had been loud in the way he’d touched her in the past.As had her reminders to herself that she’d only allowed the liberties as a strategic tactic, to further her cause.
They had both been calculated.
But he didn’t need to seduce her any longer.
And she no longer had a cause.
Tonight at the theater, she’d realized something.When Warren had touched her, she’d flinched.He didn’t feel safe.He didn’t feel like home the way he once had.
It was easier to see now, after having lived more in the last month than she had in her entire twenty years.What she had felt for Warren was a comfort, familiar.She’d been starved for affection for so long; her only balm had been losing herself in numbers or a gallop with Bonny.Then Warren, with his blue eyes, windswept blond hair, and charming smile, had swooped into her life.She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to put into words what it had felt like, going from an aching loneliness to finally being wanted by someone.What Warren had given to her…she had truly thought it was happiness.
It was something worth reshaping herself for.She’d settle for hiding certain parts of herself if it meant laughter and conversation, the warmth of another’s arms.Or so she’d naively thought.She didn’t have to settle.
There was one man who saw every part of who she was and appreciated that woman.Who argued sheshouldn’tchange.
And he was currently making quick work of divesting her of her clothing.
Her gown already pooled around her ankles, the fabric of her petticoats whispering through the parlor as they fluttered to join it.He pulled away, but she thrust her hands into his hair, yanking him back.
She needed him to understand.So she did her best to explain.
Not with words.
With want.
With touch.
That this—being with him—was as elemental as the fundamental theorem of calculus.Two completely different souls, his dark, sardonic cynicism stark against her hopeful, bright optimism.An improbable combination.But just as integration and differentiation were opposites, one couldn’t have one without the other.
He growled deep in his throat, his whisky-coated tongue clashing with hers.His fingers flexed around her waist and then squeezed.His hands almost spanned the entirety of her.Heat washed over her.Shelovedit.
A hand came down hard on her bottom, and she squeaked in surprise, breaking their kiss.She stared wide-eyed at a smirking Derek.
He arched a brow and waved his finger in a small circle, silently ordering her to spin.She did instantly, and his hand landed softly on her backside again, giving it a soothing rub before giving it a possessive squeeze.He let out an appreciative rumble that she felt straight between her thighs.
“You’re wearing far too many clothes, minx,” he murmured against her ear.His hands moved to her stays while his lips did wicked things down the curve of her neck.Her stays thumped to the ground, leaving her in nothing but her chemise, stockings, and slippers.
He slid his hands up her ribs, traveling leisurely to her— He stilled just beneath where she needed him.Her head fell back against his shoulder.Her skin prickled, her breasts aching.But all the maddening man did was trace just under the swell of her breasts over her chemise.
“I’ve dreamt of this moment,” he whispered.“Tracing every inch of your silky skin with my fingertips.”His fingers slid up and around her breasts, avoiding her nipples.“Following with my lips.”Lips grazed over skin, a soft nuzzle into her neck, nothing more.“With my tongue.”His tongue dipped out, a quick tease that had her shivering.Her body was completely overwhelmed with feeling, and just below her skin, an incessant thrumming burned.A need that was something only he could deliver.
His warm palms finally cupped her, and she arched into his touch.His shaky breath danced over her skin.“Perfect.”There was a slight tremor in his voice.Like he was just as overcome.
It wasn’t enough, though.She needed the heat of skin.His against hers.That shock that came when two people finally came together with nothing between them.Her hands found the hem of her chemise, and she pushed away from Derek, pulling the garment over her head and letting it fall behind her.
His curse filled the chamber.Low.Rough.Thick with desire.
Ever so slowly, she spun to face him.
His fists were balled, knuckles white.His eyes roamed over her, never touching one spot longer than a heartbeat, like he could consume her purely with that lush green gaze.She’d let him if he could.She wanted nothing more than to be devoured by him.And if the way he was wiping the back of his wrist across his mouth was any indication, he was picturing something very similar.She squeezed her thighs against the demanding pulse there, so much stronger under his hungry gaze.
Her lips tilted up in a content little smile, and his eyes flashed with amusement.Yes, she might be a touch smug at his bold appreciation.But how could she not?When this man looked at her like she’d finally given him everything he’d been missing.It was probably the most foolish thought she’d ever had, considering who this man was.
She paused just before him and settled her hand on his abdomen over his thin lawn shirt.Her fingers splayed out as wide as they could go, greedy to feel as much of him as possible.His muscles twitched under her touch, and then instantly went rigid.It was her turn for amusement.Her attention lifted to his face, and she bit back a smile.The rogue was flexing.He arched a brow.I’m not above showing off, minx.Was it bad she was fairly certain she could hear his thoughts at this point?
She knew exactly what to do to put that arrogant eyebrow back in its place.She slid her hand down until she palmed his obvious arousal.
“My aunt was right.Such hardness,” she whispered.
