Page 108 of The Trouble with Anna

She lost her breath entirely. Could only watch as his dark head descended and she felt the rough stroke of his tongue across her nipple. He drew it into his hot mouth and sucked.

“Do you like that?” he asked.

God, yes.She nodded frantically.

“Tell me how much.” His hands reached up to cup her.

“So much,” she breathed. “Do it again. Right now.”

“So demanding. Acting like a Countess already.” He pulled up her skirt. She felt the long slide of it up her calf, up her thigh.

Anna leaned her head back, arched against the post, and gave herself over to the feel of his mouth on her breast, his hand under her chemise and gliding higher.

“Help me get my arms free.” She wriggled. “I want to touch you.”

“No.”

“But—”

He paused, his mouth hovering over her skin. “If you don’t like it, tell me and I’ll stop. But I’ve dreamed of you like this, all bound up to work as I please. Let me?”

Anna took a jagged breath and let her head rest back against the post. His hand under her skirt cupped her bottom, hauled her tight against him as he rolled one nipple in his mouth and then the other. She could feel his cock enormous against her, his breath as broken as hers.

His hand slipped under her drawers.

“Julian, please!” She hooked a leg up on his hip, tried to climb up his body.

“Christ, Anna.” His mouth was hot and desperate and he growled as he pushed her skirt up.

“Wait!” Anna cried. “Not here! In the stall!”

Julian’s eyes were glazed, his hands hard on her hips. “Lightning, no one would dare to enter. We’re alone, I promise.”

“But the horses!” she said in an agonized whisper.

He stared at her. “What?”

Anna bit her lip, lowered her voice. “Sally might see.”

Julian gave a low laugh and lifted her into his arms. Together they tumbled into an empty stall and onto a mound of straw.

“I swear that mare might as well be my mother-in-law,” he whispered, his clever hands on the ties at the back of her dress at last. Her bodice sagged away from her, and he helped her wiggle out of the overdress and chemise.

Anna wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed up against his incredible heat, her mouth open under his.

She slipped her hand under his jacket, his chest hot under the thin lawn of his shirt. He shrugged, and she pulled his jacket down, went to work on his shirt and cravat.

He hissed when he felt her breasts against his bare skin.

“You see?” He tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “Your breasts really do make me stupid.”

But Anna was beyond teasing. She was too empty, too slick and swollen. He was right there, so close but not inside her. She reached down and grasped him, wiping the smile off his face. He stilled, made a sound as if he were dying. “We can’t. I don’t have anything to protect you.”

“What?” Anna pushed herself up on her elbow, too dazed to understand.

“We’re not married. I could get you with child.We need a special license.”

“But—” She ached too much. She thought she might cry.

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