Page 45 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
“No, we can’t.” To his regret, the sensual rapture faded from her expression. Now she regarded him with frantic eyes, and her hands kneaded the flesh of his arms. “We must stop.”
“We must,” he agreed. Wishing to hell that he meant it. But the dreadful truth was that he ached to claim her for his own.
Evesham wasn’t sure whether she rose to meet him or he leaned down to her. But they were kissing again, and gentleness became a mere memory. This was raw passion, such as he’d never shared before. This was as desperate as life and death.
When she stumbled backward, tugging him with her, he went. Right now, if she kept kissing him, he’d jump off a cliff into a rough ocean and wouldn’t say one word of protest as he drowned.
They toppled onto the bed together. For one extravagant moment, he luxuriated in her luscious softness beneath him. Her loose nightclothes flowed around him, and he found himself poised between her parted legs. When he raised his head, he snatched a breath laden with delicious female arousal.
He still couldn’t see straight, and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest with excitement. When he cupped one voluptuous breast in his hand, she cried out and arched up in an incoherent entreaty for more. Her robe had parted to reveal the flimsy lawn of her night rail. So flimsy, he could see the dark pink jut of her nipples.
Temptation spiked to take this encounter to its end. Lying cradled between her thighs, he was on the brink of reaching paradise.
“Dear Lord, you’re so beautiful,” he grated out, as he pulled at the loose knot that held the top of her nightdress closed. If he didn’t see her now, he’d shatter into a million pieces.
Sheer white material parted to reveal perfect breasts. White. Generous. Tight pointed nipples. A jolt of overpowering arousal gripped him, as he drew one beaded peak between his lips.
Her husky moan built his agony. As he tongued the sensitive tip, her hands, which had been running up and down his back in a fever of touching, raked through his hair, pressing him closer.
Evesham nuzzled the creamy flesh, relishing the piquant taste. Then he shifted to kiss her other breast. One hand lowered to lift the hem of her nightdress.
His hand trailed along her thigh to tangle in the feathery nest of curls. When she shifted under his caresses, more of that earthy female essence tinged the air. His fingers dipped between her legs to seek out her satiny heat.
Juliet cried out and bowed upward. “Evesham…”
He must stop. He would stop.
Soon…
Juliet shuddered as he stroked the hot, swollen folds. She wasn’t far off a climax. Her hands dug into his shoulders, as she quivered beneath his wanton caresses. He loved her lavish response to his touch.
He returned to kissing her, nipping and sucking at her lips. When his hand found the center of her pleasure, he built her responses into a frenzy. Her body tensed with rising excitement. Before on a rasping exhalation, she crashed into an orgasm that sent liquid heat flooding over his seeking hand.
“Evesham…” She clung to him as she shuddered through her peak.
Desperate to have her, he rose onto his elbows and settled between her legs. Her eyes were closed, her lips were parted in rapture, and her body lay defenseless beneath his.
A couple of quick fumbling tugs opened his breeches. His throbbing cock sprang free. He drew in a deep breath and prepared to thrust.
She was made for him. Joining his body to hers would hurl him higher than heaven.
He gazed down into Juliet’s beautiful, spellbound face. Her hair spread around her face like a golden halo. Her breasts spilled free of her disheveled nightdress. Her hands clutched his shoulders, as if she never wanted to let him go.
She was everything that he craved. She lay ready for him. He could take her now.
Yet he paused.
Slowly, Juliet’s eyes opened. He stared into dark blue irises stormy with need. Confusion drew her pale brows together. “What is it?”
Berating himself as all kinds of fool – because this chance would never come again – he rolled off her and out of the bed. He couldn’t risk remaining within touching distance. His shaking hands took an age to fasten his breeches.
Juliet remained splayed across the sheets like his wildest fantasies made real. He already knew that this image would torment him for too many nights to come.
“Juliet, we can’t do this.” His voice emerged raw and shaking. Because the vile truth was that they could do this. They were two healthy young animals in a fever to mate. Taking her maidenhead would be the easiest thing in the world. And a transgression even an irredeemable sinner like him couldn’t countenance. “You deserve better.”
Resentment flashed in her eyes, and a sexual frustration that he understood far too well. Then he watched her pale in horror, as the afterglow of pleasure dispersed and she realized how close they’d edged to consummation. “Dear Lord above, how could I?”
She propped herself against the pillows and dragged her nightdress across to cover herself. Despite everything, he regretted losing sight of her breasts.
