Page 7 of Good Duke Gone Far

Damn flamingos.

“I don’t think I am helpless. You can still help me.” Those talking lips ceased making words and gently pressed into his.

What could he do? What did he want to do? What should he do? Too many questions, too few answers. Only one answer was shouting to him.Kiss her.But the nail in the coffin was when her cool, pale pink fingers reached behind his neck, tugged on his long hair, and pulled him in deeper.

Chapter 4

FAUGH!WHATTHEHELLwas she thinking leaning in for a kiss? Kat had never been kissed before, but when she had felt his solid mass behind her, and his probing mass at the top of her cleft, a primitive instinct took hold of her. Instinct and some recollections of naughty images and lurid novels she had read once upon a time.

There was only one way she could see of handling him. And that was to distract him. Whatever came afterward was a problem for her future self. The fact that her insides were stoked to the temperature of a kiln had no bearing in the matter. None whatsoever.

Thankfully his hands were secure around her waist, else she might have melted right into him.

That’s what never having been kissed and now clashing tongues with an apparent expert did to a woman. Not one to filter her words, neither was she one to screen her sounds. A moan stole out of her and entreated the warm mouth before her.

It seemed impossible, but his mouth opened wider to devour more of her, taking her for all she was worth. When had a man ever loved her mouth the way he was tackling her now? No, it had always been,Men prefer their women quiet. Ladies are better understood with their mouths closed.Or a simple,Shut the bloody hell up.It all amounted to the same thing. Keep your mouth shut. But only Kat knew the joy, sometimes perversely, of opening her mouth to say whatever was on her mind. And now she understood a new pleasure to be had with an open mouth. That of a man.

Kat ignored the pelting sounds against the carriage and the cool breeze whipping in through the cracks. There were more important things to think about.

Like his taste. He tasted of berries and tea. Such an odd pairing. To her, the Colonel was so sophisticated. She should be savoring complex flavors and some kind of liquor from his lips. Alas, he happened to have the palate of some of her favorite things in the world: sweetness. Pure, simple sweetness. The opposite of how she would describe the dignified, once-thought-to-be-impassive man she was still tasting.

And, stars above, how good he tasted. And smelled. She detected a hint of citrus and some herb. Basil or rosemary. With a deep inhale she recognized the scent as rosemary. Delectable indeed. She deepened the kiss, shuffling her body closer to his. The hardened shaft that she had felt before was now digging into her belly. The burning, achiness between her legs was jealous, and soon her left leg was clamoring for leverage on his hip. She wanted more of him. She needed more. It didn’t matter what kind of ploy this decision had started out as, her body was demanding a new objective.

“Jack,” she moaned.

The soft, warm lips ripped away from her. “What did you call me?”

“Jack,” she exhaled. Her arms were wrapped around his neck tugging him back in.

“That’s not my na–”

“You said to call you Jack.”

“Good God woman, have you no…nevermind. This was meant to stop. It’s better this way.” The Colonel gently pushed her to sit on the seat and remained seated. He pinched his nose.

She was now almost eye level with his…well, his sugar stick. Should she call it that? It made it even more tempting in a completely different way. Heat flooded her cheeks at the direction of her thoughts. The things she would like to do with and to his sugar stick…

It was bulging against his breeches. It looked so large and inviting. Her curiosity almost quickened her to reach out and stroke it.

By George, she needed to get a hold of herself. But, oh he was a thing of beauty. The whole thing of him, not just…that thing. How had she never seen him this way before?

Stealing a glance up to his face, she watched his umber colored locks gently tap at his temple. “Your hair is never this long.” The words popped out.

“What?” His eyes flew open.

“Nevermind.” Kat leaned over and took hold of the Colonel’s biceps. Another bulging body part. “It’s time for you to go.” She began pushing him to the door. That was overstating it. He may have leaned slightly, but in no way was it a direct result of the physical effort she had exerted. “Come now, you’ve had your fun. Time to go.”

“Fun? Go? What?”

“Yes, I know you know words. Well done. Chop, chop. Be off.”

“I’m not going out there right now.”

“And why not?”

The Colonel flung the door open, and buckets of water doused the side of the carriage, threatening to enter.

“Oh my! What a beastly downpour.” Kat slammed the door shut and hugged her arms around herself.

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