Page 89 of Just About a Rake
“So demanding.”
“I already saw your upper body at the boxing, now I want to see the rest.”
“You saw? I thought you left?”
“I saw enough to make menotwant to leave.” However, some things took precedence over male chests. “Are you removing your trousers or not?”
“Of course.” Both hands moved to the buttons of his trousers. “As the lady wishes.”
Leonora watched with suspended breath as he undid those buttons achingly slowly before pushing his trousers down his legs.
Lord above.
She swallowed at the magnificent sight.
“Should I remove them completely?”
“As you like,” she just about managed not to choke out.
His grin turned wolfish. “What about my boots?”
“Whatever is fastest.” She stepped up to him and pushed her hands up his chest. A sigh escaped her at the hard planes beneath her fingertips. “However, we cannot undress as though we have the whole night at our disposal.” Secret room or not, the danger of being caught vibrated along her flesh in ripples. Forget the night, an urgency sparked the air that couldn’t help but catch Leonora’s breath as she drew in that magnificent body of his.
He loomed over her half-naked, hand closing around his cock, eyes boring into hers.
She inhaled sharply.
Where on earth should she look? That erotic sight of his chest or his face? Was there a right way to stare or a wrong way? Leonora opted to spend a few seconds on each delightful region.
He suddenly chuckled. “This is a first.”
“What is?” Leonora stilled, slowly moving her gaze from a certain provocative image back to his eyes.
“Staring at me so blatantly like I am dessert.”
“A lemon cake, my favorite.”
He chuckled, retreating until the back of his legs met a sofa. With a swift tug, he pulled her down with him, on top of him. Leonora gasped as he shifted, one hand slipping behind her back, the other guiding her legs around his waist. “This issweet?” His fingers traced up her thigh, dragging d her skirts along with them.
Sweet, yes.
“You’re so bloody beautiful.”
“You’re not too bad—”
He captured her lips in his, his tongue swallowing the last of her words. “More touching and less talking.”
Leonora obliged his request and dragged her hands down warm hard muscle. “As my rake demands.”
His lips were on her again, dragging, sucking, tongue plundering. She couldn’t get enough of this man. Enough of this moment. Enough of his touch. He was stealing the very breath from her lungs, this kiss a claim, a demand, a surrender all at once.
His hand skimmed down her back, mapping her with possessive strokes, fingers pressing into her waist as though committing every one of her curves to memory. Heat pooled low in her belly, a delicious ache curling around her spine as she arched closer, seeking more—more of him, more of this fire, more of everything he had to give.
Everything that happened in this hidden library . . .
So good.
She had chosen this. Dare had accepted. Therefore any consequence was of no consequence. They were two people who had made a choice.
