Page 60 of A Virgin for the Rakish Marquess

“Yes, show you, My Lady,” he murmured as he leaned closer.

His eyes flicked to her lips as if he hadn’t devoured them already. As if he would starve for them for the rest of his life.

Diana had never felt so wanted, so desired, so cherished in her life. Here, at this moment, she was the most important thing to him.

“Oh, the things I want to show you, Diana. Let me,” he purred against her neck.

“I am all yours tonight,” Diana gasped.

James straightened and kneeled between her legs, his sanity one moan away from snapping. She was doing this to him. She was the one driving him so close to the edge.

Oh, the power.Diana was drunk on all the sensations.

James’s lips curled into something dark, something smug, something triumphant. “You are, wallflower. You are mine. Tonight.”

One finger touched her lips, toyed with her lower lip, and traveled down her neck to her collarbone, to the valley between her breasts. His jaw ticked, his teeth raking over his lower lip.

Diana’s eyes fluttered shut. She writhed under him, arching into his touch. He didn’t stop till he reached her ankle.

His fingers curled around the hem of her dress, and he pulled it higher, his knuckles grazing the little hairs anywhere they touched. Slowly, like they had all the time in the world. Reverently, as if it was an unexplored land he needed to map carefully. And still, he was nowhere near where she was burning, where she needed him most.

“James, I need…”

James was on her again, his hot chest squishing her breasts, one hand pinning both of hers above her head. She gasped, and her body arched to meet him. Every cell in her body longed to touch him, to be touched by him.

“I know what you need, My Lady.” He licked her upper lip.

Diana let out a soft, desperate sound. He chuckled, and that dark, pleased sound that rumbled in his chest made her quake with anticipation. The promises that sound held.

James dipped his head to her neck, pressing his lips to her rapid pulse to seal his promise.

“But not before I make you tremble with want, with expectation. Not before I wring every ounce of desire from your beautiful body, Diana. You gave yourself to me.”

He hooked her leg around his waist and ground his hips against hers.

“I will do to you every”—his hand squeezed her thigh—“wicked”—a long pull on her nipple—“delectable thing I have dreamed of.”

Diana writhed under him, not knowing what was worse—his torturous hand, his scandalous tongue, or his shameful mouth.

“Anything, something,” she begged.

She didn’t even know what she was begging for, but she knew that if he touched herthere,she would explode. And if he didn’t, she would die.

“Patience.” James chuckled.

Frustration rose inside her, but before she collected herself, his hand moved up and spread over her thigh, which was a quivering mass. He drew patterns on her skin as his lips brushed her temple.

Diana let out a soft, choked cry, her hips bucking on instinct, her body seeking more—seekinghim.

He chuckled again. “So eager, so responsive, my little student.”

Diana knew she should be furious at him. But there was nothing else in her body other than the liquid heat that coiled low in her belly. Only he could free her from this torment.

But he was taking his time. His fingers lazily ghosted over the back of her thigh, kneading her flesh. Branding his touch onto her skin. Then, ever so lightly, he traced the edge of her drawers. A feather-light touch that made her twitch and hold her breath.

“You so desperately need me to touch you.”

“I do, My Lord.”

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