Page 20 of In Scandal with the Duke
His low law was decidedly mocking. “No.”
After several swallows, she handed it back to the duke. “Then you understand, Your Grace. I know what I want, and I cannot imagine compromising my wants. My aunt says I eventually will, but why should I?”
Elizabeth whirled to face him, gasping and then laughing when she stumbled against the duke.Oh drat. Everything felt light and wonderful. Her heart beat a frantic tattoo against her breastbone. The duke held her by her hips, and her flesh burned beneath her ball gown.
“How is it that whenever I am close to you my heart races with this intensity?” she softly asked.
“You are foxed.” His fingers imperceptibly tightened on her hips.
Affronted, Elizabeth sniffed. “I feel languorous and completely in charge of all my senses, Your Grace. I daresay it is my good fortune that I encountered you here.”
“Is that so?” he murmured enigmatically.
There was something in his tone that kissed over her skin like a sharpened blade.Oh, Bette, he is a rake, she silently warned herself.The duke is dangerous.
Refusing to heed the part of her that urged her to flee, she glided her hands up his shoulders, teasingly stroking her fingers through the hair curling on his nape. “I know what I want … and I daresay mean to take it.”
“I gather we are no longer talking about your aunt and marriages.”
“No, Your Grace.”
“What is it that you want?”
There it was again, that dark flash of need in his eyes. Unable to understand the devil that drove her, but knowing something inside of her had been unlocked, Elizabeth curled her hands insistently around his neck, tugging him down to her uplifted face.
“A kiss, Your Grace. Only this morning, I thought I would finally indulge in kisses with the man who woos me. That will no longer happen.”
A rigid, breathless silence filled the space between them. The duke shifted, and he brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth.
Oh, sweet heaven above. That soft touch roused her senses, sending a hot ache of pleasure down to her breasts, belly, and legs. How could a simple touch … one that barely coasted over her skin … be so persuasive? So tempting to reach for more, perhaps touch his skin to feel its texture.
She was tempted to deliberately brush her body against his once more. Instead of suppressing the desire, Elizabeth stepped closer to his body, feeling the impression of him through her ball gown. She could feel every hard inch of him, including the hardness against her thighs. A rather intriguing hardness, for she suspected it meant he desired her. She acted, curving her body against his.
“Little minx,” he mocked, the silver in his eyes a brilliant hue in the shadows. “You play with fire.”
“Iamfeeling rather curious, and I daresay you are the perfect man to assuage it.”
His low chuckle was too sensual. “Am I?”
“Hmm.” She brushed her nose at his throat, inhaling his scent. “What is this hardness I feel against my belly? Why does it feel so…large?”
A sound hissed from him, and his chest lifted on a deep inhalation. “If you were not so innocent, I would perhaps tell you.”
She laughed, feeling oddly delighted. “I am not as innocent as you presume, Your Grace.”
“Oh?”
“Hmm, a friend of mine told me about how wickedly delightful amorous congress is. Oh, I forgot … you call ittupping.”
“And this friend forgot the salient details of telling you about the parts used in amorous congress, hmm?”
“She did say ‘husband’s rod.’ I am presuming this hardness … is your rod.”
Another sound came from him, one that suspiciously sounded like a low choke. “Mine is my cock.”
In the secret recesses of her heart, where a bit of wanton lurked, something uncoiled, and she murmured, “I want to touch it.”
Elizabeth heard his swallow, and the fingers on her hips pressed harder into her flesh. She slipped a hand down between the tight press of their bodies, feeling the shockingly thick ridge of flesh.
