Page 35 of When a Rogue Falls
His gaze settled on a long, deep-blue velvet chaise lounge and hope flared once more. Then he caught sight of the mahogany-colored leather sofa, and he was suddenly torn. Both would serve well for seduction.
So many choices. Where is a man to begin?
If things went well, then perhaps he may not have to decide between them. Bridget and he had the rest of the night ahead of them.
“Would you like a drink? I mean, we should celebrate,” she said.
He nodded. “Yes, we should. Mister Hosey got the message, and so I don’t think he will be troubling anyone else in society with his foolish attempts at blackmail.”
Stephen pulled the knife out of his coat pocket and dropped it on a nearby table.
“A souvenir of your night of danger. But may I suggest you keep it in your stocking drawer?”
She picked the knife up and grinned at him. “I will keep it alongside the pistol.”
He shook his head. “I had a horrid feeling you might say that.”
After unfastening the ties of her cloak, she slipped it off her shoulders and draped it over a chair. The gentleman’s holster and pistol came next.
Bridget crossed to the sideboard and soon returned to Stephen’s side bearing two glasses of wine. “Here’s to the successful completion of your contract, Sir Stephen,” she said, handing him a drink.
As Bridget sipped her wine, Stephen’s gaze remained fixed on her mouth. When she moved the glass away, her lips were moist. She licked them, and his manhood stood to attention.
He reached out and wrapping his fingers around the stem of Bridget’s glass, took it from her grasp. She let him. Their drinks were set on a table next to the sofa. His gaze lingered on the mahogany leather, and he slowly blinked.
I can just imagine you naked and spread open before me on it.
Bridget moved toward him, her fingers toying with the openings of her gown.
Stephen slipped a hand about her waist and pulled her roughly to him. His cock, hard and demanding, pressed against her stomach. His blood pumped through his body at a furious rate.
I want her.
Lust and his long-neglected sexual appetite kicked into a full gallop. Bridget was his for the taking, and he was never one to disappoint a lady.
“How about we save the wine until later? If I am reading the look on your face correctly, I don’t think either of us is in the mood to sit and chat over a drink. I would much rather my lips be used to bring you pleasure. And when I say pleasure, I mean the most magnificent you have ever had.”
“Stephen,” she whispered.
He claimed her mouth with his.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The touch of a strong male who wanted her had Bridget sighing into Stephen’s embrace. Just the chance to be held in a man’s arms and be given sexual release was far more than she had known for the past four years.
I need you. I want you. And I want you to need me.
He had said he only ever spent one night with a woman, but Bridget didn’t care. She would take whatever he offered. And in return, he could have her all.
Stephen was a master at kissing. He turned the simple act of two pairs of lips touching one another into something that only the poets could describe in a sonnet.
When he gently, teasingly, bit her bottom lip, Bridget almost swooned. She clung to the front of his jacket. It was all she could do to stop from falling to her knees.
He pulled back from the kiss and breathlessly whispered, “We need to slow this down. Let me take control. I have a feeling that if I give you the reins, there is every chance that this horse will bolt.”
He was right. She didn’t want to hold back. She wanted everything and now.
Whatever you ask, I am yours.
