Page 30 of Til Death Duke Us Part
“It’s in no way an agreement,” he assured her. “You may still block my efforts to steal objects from dead people during the waking hours if that’s what you wish. Though I wish you’d simply let me do it and be done with it. Consider—once I have what I want, I’ll leave my life of crime. Establish another foundling hospital, dedicate myself to good deeds. I could hire you to work there. You’d be done digging graves.”
She licked her lips, unable to keep her greedy gaze from tracing every visible, shadowy line of his body and face. “A likely argument.”
“A persuasive one, though? Hm. I see not. What about this?” He settled his mouth against the pulse on her neck, and with one hot exhalation, ran his tongue across her skin, kissed her, bruised her, made her needy.
She clutched his back, pulling him closer. She dropped her head, opening that most vulnerable of places to him.
But he took no further, despite her offering.
No. He rolled off her and propped himself on his side.
She knew what he was doing, the mad man, and she clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes closed against the lust.
Only a bit of fun. Only a bit of pleasure.
“If you don’t want to, it’s a shame,” he said, “but I’ll respect your wishes.” He rolled all the way around until he faced his side of the bed.
“Damn you,” she whispered. Because the thief did possess a shred of decency. And he was applying it at the worst possible time. His retreat revealed truth. She wanted a bit of fun, a bit of pleasure.
With him.
She could roll too, and she did until she was curved around the back of him. She wrapped her arm around his waist and reached for what she wanted. When she found it, he hissed, his every muscle tightening. She snuggled closer, learning the length and circumference of him. When she found the nape of his neck, she inhaled—soap and man—not how a duke should smell—too plain—but certainly how he did. She kissed that nape, and he shivered.
“Are you certain?” he asked, his voice rough, his body poised and ready.
“Absolutely,” she breathed near his ear.
He had her beneath him before she could take another breath. No doubt now. No room for it as he ripped the neck of her chemise down her shoulder, as he sat back on his heels to marvel at her. His hands trembled as he reached for her, but the tremble smoothed to nothing but confident caresses by the time he reached her breasts. Thumbs teasing circles round her nipples, palms cupping, fingers squeezing. Oh, they were heavy with aching for everything he gave her, and she writhed beneath him.
So long. So long since she’d felt anything but guilt and misery and aching bones and muscle.
“Look at you,” he said, “so beautiful.”
What nonsense, what rot. “Say more.”
His trousers were slung so low on his hips, his shaft rose out of them, long and throbbing, and though he made her delirious with desire, she reached through the heated space between their bodies to grasp him.
He cursed and bucked and kissed her hard.
“Say more,” she pleaded against his mouth. The last words Percy had said to her had been ugly, and she wanted to wipe them away, replace them with something worth remembering.
He slid his body alongside hers and propped his chin into that valley between her breasts. Oh, his grin was wicked. Wicked and wonderful. “You are better than any illusion I could conjure. Your lips riper than any fruit. Your skin softer than any silk.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “You are entirely full of nonsense.”
“But you love it. You need it.” He kissed the soft valley where no one ever touched. Not anymore.
“I do,” she moaned, arching her back. He dragged his lips down her belly, dragged his fingers through the curls between her legs. She knew the magic he could conjure there with just his clever fingers.
He dragged his palms down her ribs, her waist, her thighs. He paused at her knees to stroke lines of pleasure at the bend of her knee. Who knew that hidden little fold could make her leap when touched just so. She’d not. And how wonderful to learn something new about her body after so many years.
Over her knee then and down her shin.
“Exquisite legs, I must say.” He kissed the inside of one ankle. “I want them wrapped around me.”
She moved to do just that.
He stopped her. “Not yet.” With a little pressure of the heels of his hands against her shins, he bent her legs and knelt between her knees. He blew a long slow breath across her cunny.
