Page 27 of My Darling Rogue
Gabriel lowered her until she was once again completely seated in the chair, his hands sliding away from her bottom. Then he moved up her body by incremental degrees, straightening her undergarments and pulling her skirts back into place so her legs were once again properly covered.
With a smile, Gabriel pried her hands off the chair, lifting them until they looped around his neck as he bent over her. He braced himself, his hands mimicking her grip on the chair arms. There was a glint of satisfaction in his molten gaze as Celia stared at him in wonderment.
He pressed a lingering kiss on her mouth, his firm, warm lips brushing over hers and breathing in her tiny pants of air.
Celia tasted herself on his mouth. It was both strange and exotic. Intimate and inappropriate. Her arms tightened around his neck as longing overcame her.
Oh, how she wanted to taste him in the same manner he’d tasted her. She began to tell him so, but he brushed another kiss across her mouth and she remained silent.
Gabriel did not straighten his form, nor did he remove Celia’s arms from around his neck. He maintained his stance with a certain degree of arrogance and said, “Shall I pleasure you once more before your mother arrives and attempts trapping us into marriage?”
“My mother?” Celia frowned, still a bit woozy from the entire experience. “Whatever are you talking about? No one is being trapped.”
“Nothing changes the fact that your mother sent me here, Celia, nor what her intentions may be to that end. I’ve made it quite clear I have no desire to marry.”
Celia sat straighter in the chair, the motion bringing her nearly nose-to-nose with Gabriel. “I don’t expect you to marry me. And I don’t want to marry you, either. I believe I’ve madethatperfectly clear.”
His hand raised and Celia steeled herself. However, to her surprise, he merely touched the center of her bottom lip using his thumb. Staring deep into her eyes, he softly rubbed the plump flesh in a repetitive motion that was hypnotic. He pressed even further, gently forcing her mouth to part. His thumb raked over the barrier of her teeth then stopped as if he were daring her to actually bite him.
Celia’s breath stilled. Panicked and wanting. And he watched her with such intensity she wondered what he might be thinking of doing. An overwhelming urge swelled deep inside her. A desire to suck his thumb into her mouth and swirl her tongue around it.
Where on earth did that come from?
With a crooked smile of satisfaction, Gabriel slowly removed his hand. The moment was over and Celia blinked at how quickly the atmosphere changed.
“Good. Then we are in accordance and can present a unified front should your mother persist in throwing us together,” Gabriel replied calmly. He straightened, moving away from her while pushing the stool back into place. With great care, he lifted Celia’s injured ankle and settled it on the plush piece of furniture.
“There. All set. I shall take my leave now that I’ve seen to your welfare.”
Celia’s cheeks turned bright pink.My welfare. Is that what it’s called? That entire episode where his face was nestled between my thighs? My welfare?
A sense of self-preservation overcame Celia. Lifting her chin high, she favored him with her haughtiest stare. “Thank you for your concern, Mister Rose. Even if it is unwarranted.”
Gabriel leaned back in, his lips brushing over her temple. “Mister Rose? Tsk, tsk, Celia. After tasting your climax in my mouth, I’d say we’re on a first-name basis. What occurred just now was most definitely necessary. And let’s not forget how well you followed my instructions.”
Celia’s face flamed hot. Damn this man. How did he manage the impossible feat of making her moan his name one moment and then curse him the next? It made no sense why she was so vulnerable to his charms. It was infuriating. She grit her teeth seeing his smug expression. How dare he toy with her, pursue her so recklessly, all while proclaiming he had no desire for a respectable relationship. How dare he use her for his own twisted amusement.
“I did not seek out your attention, Mister Rose.”
“But that was you kissing me as though you need my breath to survive, wasn’t it? And that was you spreading your legs wider for me. Moaning with every lick. Every nibble.”
Celia sucked in a breath. “Please go away. And stay away.”
“Impossible.” He laughed, nuzzling into her hair. “I think I should kneel before you once more. Do you know why? Because you are most amendable just after you come. As are most women.”
His arrogance was astounding, but deep in Celia’s belly, there was a nervous, excited flutter. Somehow, she needed to regain control of herself and this dangerous situation.
She pushed at Gabriel’s broad chest with balled fists. He did not budge from his position. He loomed over her. A lion guarding his kill. Watching her with those sharp, golden-brown eyes as though he found her efforts greatly amusing.
“Next time, I’ll have you on your knees, my little sugarplum. And it will be you pleasuring me.”
Celia could not help herself. Her gaze drifted, landing on the prominent bulge marring the flat front of his trousers.
Dear Lord, the man had no shame. No restraint. And for some bloody reason, Celia apparently liked it.
She liked it too much. It sickened her how much she hung on his every word despite her outrage.
“Your words are as coarse as your manners.” Her exasperated huff hung between them.
