Page 123 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
She moaned. Part of her wanted him to bite harder and mark her. Such a bruise couldn’t be dismissed as anything other than what it was: proof of his desire for her.
“You like that?” he asked, scraping his teeth over the delicate skin of her throat and nipping at the edge of her jaw.
“Mm-hmm.” She ground against his hard cock, wishing the layers of her dress and his breeches were gone.
His lips tickled her as they curved into a smile. “My wanton wife.”
“Only for you,” she whispered. There was no one elseshe’d ever trust enough to be like this with. No one else she’d want to be so intimate with.
“Yes.” He sucked on her pulse point. “Mine.”
She whimpered, then rolled them both so his back was against the door and she stood in front of him. She kissed the side of his neck, then sucked—hard—watching with delight as a red patch blossomed. A sign that he was hers as well.
Only hers.
“I am,” he murmured, and she realized she’d said it aloud.
She blushed but didn’t take it back.
“My countess.” He cupped her face and kissed her. “I’m going to sit you on that desk, hike up your skirts, and completely and utterly own you. Any objections?”
She blinked at him, hardly able to think beyond the thick fog of need that had descended over her. “No.”
“No?” He frowned.
“No objections.”
“Thank God.”
He bent and swept her into his arms, the movement made awkward because of the voluminousness of her skirts, but he didn’t allow that to deter him. He carried her to the desk and set her down carefully. She shifted her bottom until she was sure she wouldn’t fall and spread her thighs.
His eyes flashed, the gold flaring brighter than ever. “In case it isn’t obvious, we’re amending the agreement. If any other man ever lays a hand on you, it will be pistols at dawn.”
She smirked. “As long as the same rule applies to you, then I see no issue with that.”
“With this kiss, I bind you to me.” He hesitated for just long enough for her to disagree.
When she didn’t, he kissed her.
She dragged her fingers down his chest. “With this touch, I thee worship.”
A shudder rolled through him, and he dropped to his knees. He lifted her skirt and ducked beneath it. A momentlater, his breath whispered over her most intimate place. She felt him grab the waistband of her undergarments and ease them down; then he pressed a kiss to her.
She leaned back, her palms on the wood of the desk, supporting herself. Unable to see Andrew, she had no idea what he might do next. When his mouth fastened over her and his tongue gently probed her core, she jolted and gasped.
“Mm. Sweet.” He teased her with his lips and tongue, circling around her bud, winding her tighter and tighter but never quite giving her enough.
She whimpered and thrust her hips forward, silently begging for more. Eventually, there was a slight pressure, and then one of his fingers slipped inside her. His tongue continued to circle her, driving her out of her mind. He crooked his finger, and she cried out.
“Shh,” he teased. “We wouldn’t want anyone to hear us.”
He ducked out from beneath her skirts, and heat blasted through her at the sight of him. Lips damp, eyes bright, hair mussed. He looked delightfully rumpled.
“You still want this?” he asked, moving closer, his hands dropping to the desk as he caged her in.
“Yes. More than anything.”
His pupils dilated, swallowing up the irises until only a thin band of color remained. “I love you so much.”
