Page 83 of The Courtship Trap
“You are playing a dangerous game,” he ground out, his hands clenching into fists.
Her tongue darted out to taste him again and again.
“Perhaps I like danger,” she whispered.
Sebastian swore violently, reaching for her, but she slipped from his grasp, laughing breathlessly as she pressed her hands against his chest once more, holding him down.
“Not yet,” she teased. “I am not quite finished with you.”
His chest heaved, his entire body drawn tight as a bowstring.
“Then hurry up and finish,” he growled.
She only laughed again, and continued her slow, torturous trailing, driving him to the very edge of madness.
Then, when he knew he could not take another single second of her delicious torment, Harriet raised her hips and slowly lowered herself onto his throbbing length. Her slick channel closed around him, her tight heat driving him mad as he arched up to receive her, and she slid down until she was seated all the way to the hilt of him.
They both panted in unison, spellbound by the sensation of joining.
Then, ever so slowly, she gyrated against him, rubbing the center of her pleasure against his pubic bone and gasping as her head fell back to reveal the long column of her slender throat and she began to ride. Back and forth, she rode him with long strokes, squeezing his cock tightly with her strong, intimate muscles, and Sebastian groaned, torn between throwing his head back in ecstasy and watching her curvaceous body riding him.
As she picked up speed, grinding the apex of her crease against him, he feared he would not last at the sight of her takingher pleasure on him, her breasts swaying and bouncing with the motion of rhythmic undulation that drove him to the furthest edge of sanity, the sensation too much to contain. He strained for his self-control and groaned with grateful relief when he heard her muffled shriek of release and was finally able to let go, spending deep into her womb with a rush so intense, he feared he would pass out.
Harriet collapsed over him, their limbs tangled, their bodies soaked in sweat, and a curtain of red hair flowing in every direction. Sebastian raised a hand to hold her head to his chest and, in that moment, knew what it was to live in paradise.
CHAPTER 18
That which slew me can restore me,
Bid me with new ardor rise:
Then I still will fall before thee,
Captured by thy beaming eyes.
The New Ladies’ Valentine Writer (1821)
DECEMBER 20, 1821
Sebastian sat stiffly in the drawing room of his brother’s grand townhouse, his jaw tight as he stared at the Duke of Halmesbury. The atmosphere was tense, the silence thick with unspoken grievances. Beside him, Richard shifted, ever so slightly, but kept his focus on the duke.
Philip leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he regarded them both. Sebastian knew his brother well enough to recognize the calculation in his gaze.
“So,” Philip finally said, his voice cool, measured. “You wish me to grant my blessing on a marriage to a woman I have warned you against.”
Sebastian’s hands fisted in his lap. “I am not here to ask for your permission,” he stated. “I am here to tell you that Harriet and I will be married. But I would prefer that you support us, that you accept her into this family as she deserves.”
Philip arched a brow. “Deserves?”
Richard cleared his throat. “If I may, Halmesbury. Lady Slight has undergone a … transformation of sorts. I believe you are not aware of the good she has done these past months.”
Philip’s eyes flicked to Richard, assessing. “And what, pray, has she done to earn such praise from you?”
“Lady Slight sought me out in August. After the situation with Brendan. She asked for my help in pursuing her own road to redemption.”
Philip exhaled, frowning slightly. He was clearly taken aback by this announcement.
“Truly? In what way?”
