Page 94 of The Rakehell of Roth
“Have you?” she whispered.
“Inconsolably.”
Her slender throat worked, her teeth sinking into that lower lip. “Do you love her then?”
Winter stared at the woman he adored more than life itself, drinking in the beautiful lines of her face—those piercing wintry eyes, the barely there golden freckles spattered across that pert nose, her full, pink lips begging to be kissed.
He thought of her generous heart, her easily given compassion, her loyalty, her fearlessness, and her passion. The way she constantly surprised him, kept him on his toes, made him think, made himfeel. She was his light, his life, his everything.
“With all my wasted heart,” he replied softly.
“Good,” she said, her voice wobbling and a tear leaking from the corner of her eye. “I shall pass on the message. Though I expect that she will be amenable to your sentiments, but only after copious amounts of groveling.”
“Naturally.” Heart swelling behind his ribs, Winter laughed and closed the distance between them. “May I kiss you now, Lady Roth?”
“Please.”
She met him halfway, her mouth fusing with his, her body lining up in exquisite symmetry, her soft to his hard, and Winter felt as though he’d come home. Her delicious lips parted and she licked at him eagerly, demanding entry. He gave it, kissing her back with helpless hunger, his tongue tasting hers and wanting more.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he groaned against her lips. “Why didn’t you stay?”
“You told me to leave,” she said. “Repeatedly.”
“I was a prize jackanapes.”
“Yes, you were. That was my nickname for you when you left me here.”
“I must have deserved it.”
Smiling, she pressed up against him until there was not a sliver of space between them. Her hands wandered down his back and slid beneath his coat before dipping to cup his backside. Desire drilled through him, hot and relentless, and he could feel his impossibly hard cock grinding into her abdomen. He wanted to pull away, but she wouldn’t let him, holding him tight. “But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters. I’m certain you can think of ways to make it up to me.”
He arched a brow. “Here?”
“No one comes out here, except for me.” She grinned and unfastened the buttons of his coat, sliding it off his shoulders. “And Clarissa and the twins, but I expect that they already know what would happen if they sent you to find me.”
Inexplicably, Winter felt heat climb up his neck. Did the entire estate suspect that he was about to ravage his wife? Did he even care? It was early evening, the sky shifting from blue to shades of red and orange as the sun began its descent. She certainly didn’t seem to mind that they were outside.
Carefully spreading his coat onto the grass, he rose once more, standing in front of his magnificent wife. His breath quivered in his lungs—he hadn’t felt nerves like these since he was a boy. “Are you certain you don’t wish to return to the manse?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Her grin was wicked, though her cheeks bloomed scarlet. “I’ve been thoroughly corrupted by an unapologetic rake, it seems.”
“Have you, Lady Roth?” he ground out as her nimble fingers made quick work of his waistcoat and untying his cravat. He pulled his shirt over his head and stood there as she stared at him, her jaw going slack and eyes lighting in bold appreciation as they slid over his bare chest and abdomen. His muscles flexed, and her pink tongue darted out to lick her lips. “Like what you see?” he rasped.
“Very much.” Her hands dropped to the waistband above his falls, her knuckles feathering over the iron-hard bulge of him. “Grovel and impress me.”
This woman. She’d be the death of him. The most glorious, splendid death and he wouldn’t regret a second of it. “Sit, love, and enjoy the show.”
Her eyes widened, but she did as asked, lowering her graceful body to the ground atop his coat. A smirk rode her lips when she kicked off her boots, stripped off her stockings, and shucked off her own riding jacket, the small acts making his own heart race.
“Is this an auction?” she asked when she was settled, the sight of her bare, pink toes and trim ankles making his body harden to indecent proportions.
“If you wish it to be.” Winter drew a shuddering breath, holding her pale blue eyes that were hot with desire, burning like the brightest part of a flame. “The bidding will start at one thousand pounds.”
“That’s rather high, isn’t it?” she commented.
“Keep watching, my lady. I’m well aware of my worth and what this body can do.” He enjoyed the blush that spread across her chest and climbed into her already pink cheeks.
Mimicking her earlier actions, he kicked off his riding boots and then his stockings, feeling the cool grass beneath his feet. Feeling like a prized stallion on display at Tattersalls, he turned in slow motion, unfastening the first few buttons on his falls so that his breeches hung low on his hips. When he completed the oscillation, her indrawn breath was loud in the silence, her hot stare fastened on the two V-shaped strips of muscle that arrowed down to his groin.
