Page 43 of Greed: The Savage
“Do not fight it, Thornwick,” the baroness cajoled. “Do not be so honorable.”
This had nothing to do with honor. Her lack of such is what had put her at the top of his wife column.
She raised her big breasts to his mouth.
When his cock refused to rise, he damned himself to perdition.
Lady Sybelle’s frustration flared. “Go on, you stubborn man. Give them a taste.Suckthem.”
Her shrewish tone killed what little chance she had.
“Lady Darrow, you mistake my purpose here.”
“No, I haven’t! You’re being difficult.” She lunged, fingers grasping for his limp cock.
He caught her hand in a hard grip.
“My duty is to Dynevor,” he said, voice like steel. “What do you suppose the earl would say if I were rutting you instead of conducting his business?”
“I forgot how you are all business, my lord.” She giggled.
God, eventhatgrated.
She placed her lips next to his ear and whispered, “You Home Office man, you.”
Resentment took root in his gut. With her mention of his former work, any chance—and there’d already been next to none—of his body appropriately responding to her advances were now firmly doomed.
Thornwick gripped her by the waist in a punishing grip. The hungry widow, however, took his rough handling as the invitation it wasn’t.
“Finally,” she rasped.
She seized his hands and forced them to her breasts.
Reflex made his fingers twitch, but there was no hunger in it. Once, he might have gloried in such heavy flesh. Now it only wearied him.
His mind, damn it, betrayed him. Not Lady Sybelle’s lush curves but Addien’s smaller, stubborn swells filled his thoughts—her defiant glare if he so much as brushed her.
Heat flared low, treacherous, and he despised himself for it.
The baroness moaned, convinced she had stirred him. Let her. He knew the truth: it was Addien who plagued him, Addien who poisoned every thought, every—Devil, take him—weakness.
“Yes,” she hissed.
That brittle voice brought him careening back to the present. This time, the impatient widow snaked those clever fingers between his legs and gripped him hard.
A sharp hiss of air slipped from between his teeth. As he closed his eyes and fought for self-control, he continued to see Addien. The headstrong sprite who was tart-mouthed, proud, loyal, and brutal with her honesty; she would be just as spirited in bed.
Even more so.
His breath came fast in his ears.
“Take me now, Thornwick, please,” she panted. “I beg you.”
Addien would never plead. Just as it wasn’t Addien who touched him.Oh, but how I’d relish teaching her to beg.
Lady Darrow wasn’t the real-in-every-way woman he craved, nor the lady he’d join himself in marriage to. He couldn’t. Even if the flaunting jade was just the right pick for a bride to drive the duke to an apoplexy, Thornwick couldn’t wed, touch, or stomach the sight of her. Not after he’d witnessed her treatment of Addien.
Writhing and grinding on his lap, the widow was nothing more than a vapid, strumpet in silks.
