Page 56 of The Earl Takes All
“We’re married. It doesn’t matter if we lose our inhibitions with each other, does it?”
“Depends what those inhibitions are protecting, I suppose.” He walked to where the cue sticks were lined up along the wall. He took two, handed her one. “That should be a good length for you. Let’s see what you learned while I was away.”
Standing off to the side, watching as she worked to properly hold the cue, Edward knew that she had no idea how dangerous it would be if he lowered all his inhibitions, if he knocked down the walls that warned he could only go so far and no farther.
He had to distract himself before he did something he really shouldn’t. She was concentrating so hard, her brow so deeply furrowed, that it had to hurt. “Wait,” he ordered.
She lifted her gaze. Christ, why did she have to look at him as though he were the answer to everything? Why did she have to make him wish he were?
Setting his glass aside, he walked over to her. “You’re not holding the cue properly. You want to hold it like this.” Using his own, he demonstrated.
“Oh, I see.” And she did. She was a quick learner.
“Then you bend down so you can see your mark clearly and envision the angle of the strike.”
She did. Her backside sticking out enticingly. He was only a man, not a saint. He shouldn’t look, but he did, taking his fill of her lovely form.
“Slide the stick between your fingers like this,” he said.
“That’s rather erotic, isn’t it? Especially if you imagine your fingers represent a woman and the cue a man.”
“Jesus, Julia.” He shoved himself away from the table. The things she sometimes said.
“Sorry. It’s the brandy.”
Turning, he gave her an incredulous look. “You had one sip.”
“Perhaps I should have another?”
Laughing, he shook his head. “Not if one loosens your tongue that much.”
Leaning back against the table, she set her hands behind her, arching just enough to offer him an enticing image. “Why don’t you come over here and see just how loose my tongue is?”
So brazen, so bold, so damned tempting, but within her eyes he saw the barest measure of doubt, a whispering fear of rejection. He didn’t have it within him to turn away from her, to give those seeds of uncertainty a chance to bloom, not when he desperately wanted her and all she was offering. He wouldn’t take all, but he would take a kiss, and make sure it was one she never forgot.
Before he could change his mind, before he could think better of it, he pulled her into his arms and slammed his mouth over hers, growling low and deep when she opened her mouth and her tongue darted between his lips to parry with his. She clung to him with a feverishness she’d yet to exhibit, an urgency that implied she would die without more.
Lifting her up, he placed her on the billiards table, put his hands behind her back to offer support as he carried her down to the green tabletop. He trailed his mouth over her throat, her shoulders, those lovely plump swells of her breasts, while her hands made a mess of his hair, his cravat.
He was between her legs, where he had longed to be for too long, where he had no right to be. Pushing himself up, he looked down on her. She was flushed with desire, her bosom heaving with each breath she gasped.
“I want you,” she rasped. “Take me. For God’s sake, please take me.”
“Julia—”
“I’m recovered. Completely, absolutely. Have me right here.”
He could lift up her skirts, unfasten his trousers—
He had to tell her the truth. But not here.
“Not when I have waited so long,” he growled, drawing her up into his arms and carrying her from the room.
One of her arms was around his shoulders, while her other hand tugged the knot of his neck cloth free as she nibbled on his ear. He took the stairs two steps at a time while she laughed softly.
Into her bedchamber he went, slamming the door in their wake. The bed loomed large and inviting, called to him. Gritting his teeth, he ignored it and set her feet on the thick carpeting.
“Julia—”
