Page 65 of The Viscount and the Vixen
“I’m returning the coins to you. I’ll keep a tally of what I’m owed, and you can pay me the amount when the mines are again profitable.”
“I don’t need the coins returned.”
“Still, I’m returning them.”
“I don’t want them.”
She spun on her heel, marched to the desk, and tossed them onto the center of it. “I’m giving them back. You don’t have a choice.”
The growl that echoed through the room was that of a wounded animal. Portia spun around to see Locksley charging toward her. She almost hiked up her skirts and ran. But she’d fled twice before in her life, and nothing good had come from it.
This time she stood her ground. He tossed his glass aside. It landed on the rug without shattering. Then his hands were on her waist, and he was lifting her onto the desk, coming to stand between her legs.
His green eyes were feral, filled with rage. She thought she should have been frightened, but she trusted that no matter how mad he might get he wouldn’t hurt her. His pride was bruised, scored, battered. She could see that now, wished she’d understood earlier what it was costing him to toil in the mines. Why could he not see how remarkable it made him that he didn’t simply sit back and hope for the best? That like her, he would do what he must to right a horrendous situation?
“I don’t want the bloody money,” he ground out. “I don’t want you to be kind or generous or understanding.”
She tossed her chin. “Never mistake practicality for kindness. You need the funds now to ensure we have more in the future.”
His dark laughter echoing around them, he shook his head. “I don’t want you to be practical. I don’t want you bringing music and sunshine and smiles into this house. I want you for one thing and one thing only.” With those large strong hands that had brought her so much pleasure, he grabbed her bodice, corset, chemise, and ripped them all asunder with one mighty tug that caused her breasts to spill out. “This is all I want of you,” he growled before taking one nipple in his mouth and sucking hard.
She dropped her head back as pleasure tore through her. “I know.”
“I don’t want you making me anticipate the end of the day.”
He moved to the other breast, closing his mouth around the turgid pearl and tugging. “I know,” she barely managed as sensations coursed through her.
“I’m not going to like you. I’m not going to care for you. I’m not going to love you.” He bracketed her face, his gaze boring into hers. “I’m not going to give you my heart. Ever.”
She nodded jerkily. “I know.”
“I don’t want you in my life. I want you only in my bed.”
“I know,” she repeated, for what else could she say? She did know.
He buried his face against her breasts, closed his arms tightly around her. “I will not love you,” he emphasized slowly, ardently, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was striving to convince himself more than her that the words he spoke were true.
She also wondered if it would be enough for them if she loved him. Combing her fingers gently through his hair, she repeated softly, “I know.”
He pressed his lips to the inside of one breast, needing only to turn his head slightly to kiss the other. “I don’t want you to taste so damn good, to feel so damned good.”
Raising her legs, she wrapped them around him as securely as she could, considering all the inconvenient petticoats she wore. Perhaps she should apply his rule regarding gloves to her undergarments—never to be worn in the residence. She scraped her fingers through his hair, brought her hands around until she was cupping his face between her palms, tilting his head up so she could hold his gaze. “I know precisely what you don’t want. Whatdoyou want, my lord?”
His harsh curse just before he swooped in to claim her mouth should not have delighted her, but the raw intensity of it had pleasure and satisfaction spiraling through her. She thought he might very well devour her with the feverishness with which he took possession of her lips, her tongue. Always there was a wildness between them, but at that moment it was more untamed, more uncivilized than it had ever been.
She knew he had been battered and bruised by her discovery, but the truth of it was that it only made her want him more. They were more alike than he’d ever realize, willing to do whatever was necessary to protect those who needed protecting, to ensure a safe future for those they loved. Although he would claim to love no one, she was well aware that he cared deeply for his father, for the estates, for the land. She was reckless to hope that some of his caring would be directed her way.
Yet when his heated mouth branded her throat with a series of kisses and bites, she couldn’t help but feel that within the realm of pleasure, she belonged to him as he did to her. Here they communicated more honestly than they did at any other time. Here there were no barriers, no lies, no deceptions. Here at least there was raw need, primitive desires, and bared wants.
With an arm around her hips, he dragged her to the very edge of the desk, shoved up her skirts, unfastened his trousers, and plunged deep and sure. Her cry of pleasure mingled with his groan of satisfaction.
“You feel so damned good,” he growled, before again capturing her mouth, his tongue thrusting in a rhythm that matched the movements of his hips, his arm at her back supporting her.
Clinging to him, she tightened her arms around his shoulders. She was a wanton to enjoy this inappropriate coupling so much, with the cool air wafting over her breasts, her straining nipples tingling as his jacket rubbed over them. Here in the library, on the desk, he pumped into her hard and fast. His mouth left hers to taste her elsewhere: her chin, her throat, the sensitive skin just below her ear where her pulse thrummed wildly.
Trying to hold back her cries, she bit her lower lip, but the action did nothing to muffle her scream when she finally came apart in his arms, trembling with the force of her release. His groan was that of a conqueror as he tensed, pouring his seed into her. With her legs, she squeezed his hips, tightened her muscles around him. He jerked, grunted before dropping his head to her shoulder.
“You have ruined this desk for me,” he said, his breaths coming in hard, short bursts. “How can I work here now without seeing you sprawled over it?”
