Page 62 of The Duke's Bartered Mistress

Trying to get herself under control—though why bother?—Georgia straddled his hips. His knees were bent, allowing her to rest her weight on his thighs as his erection nestled in front of her curls, her cleft cradling its length.

She grinned down at him, hands splayed across the scars on his chest under the water. “What shall we do now?”

“I can think of what I want to do.” Before she could blink, one of Demon’s hands had snatched the soap from the ledge between the wall and the tub. “But I suppose ye ought to bathe.”

“You could give me the soap and I could bathe you,” she offered, flexing her hips forward slightly.

His jaw tightened, the only indication her movement had any effect, as he lathered up his hands. “Too late. I’m washing ye.”

And then his hands settled on her breasts. The soap had made them sleek, and his touch deposited bubbles across them. She bent backward across his knees, thrusting them into his hands, her smile fading as his touch skimmed across her shoulders, then back again.

“How—how dirty, exactly, do you think my breasts are, Demon?”

“Verra. Verra, verra dirty. They need lots of attention.” His actions matched his words. “Ye ken what else needs attention? My ballocks.”

“Really?” Georgia smirked as she rose slightly and reached both hands beneath the water to stroke him. “Because I was down there earlier and they tasted fine to—”

She bit her words off with a squeal as he pulled her forward and latched his mouth onto her left nipple.

From this position, with his cock still in her hands, it was a simple matter to rearrange her weight, position herself, and sink down atop his length.

Both of them groaned in satisfaction.

They went slowly, each movement deliberate and sensual. Perhaps it was because they were facing one another, the way he’d made love to her in the library. Or perhaps it was because he’d allowed her to see him without his clothing, baring himself to her eyes.

Georgia held his gaze, marveling at the new sensations. She’d thought sex with Demon felt remarkable before, but now… Apparently eye contact took this to an entirely different level.

His hands weren’t still but slid across her skin, her breasts, her hips, her sides, her neck. As he matched her slow rocks with thrusts of his own, he reached up to cup her cheeks.

He held her, and she felt…

She felt…

Cherished.

Her orgasm burst upon her, startling a gasp out of her and causing her eyes to flood unexpectedly with tears. As her inner muscles squeezed at him, Demon tightened his hold on her cheeks, and held her gaze.

“Georgia,” he murmured, a moment before his eyes widened and she felt a rush of warmth against her womb.

He’d spilled inside her again.

The realization caused another half-gasp, half-sob, this time of wonder as her hips jerked greedily against his.

He muttered something too low for her to make out, then pulled her to his chest, causing yet more water to slosh over the edge.

Dimly, Georgia wondered if she should sop it up, rather than giving Mary more work, but then his arms wrapped around her back and she rested her head against his chest. The water tickled her chin, and she concentrated on getting her breathing under control.

Under her ear his heart was beating fast. She marveled at the chance to touch him like this. Brushing a kiss across the puckered skin of his scars, she considered thanking him.

But then she heard a sound.

A strange sound, a rumbling.

Coming from his chest.

Incredulously, Georgia pushed herself upright once more, gaping down at him.

Demon Hayle, Baron Endymion, was laughing.

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