Page 60 of In Need of a Duke
“Only you, Honeybee. And I need you.”
“But you left. You didn’t need me then. Why suddenly now?”
He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and as she relaxed fully against him, his cockstand was becoming uncomfortable.
“Tonight, I am here. Tomorrow. And the day after. If we’re to start again, then let us begin as if I just walked across that crowded ballroom to you.”
Charlotte froze beneath his touch, then reached to push away his hands. She sat up and he bit his tongue, certain he had said the wrong thing until she gripped the tub and spun to straddle him.
“What are you…?”
Charlotte stood on her knees before him, her chemise soaked through, and her cheeks flushed. The left side of her neck was marked with red from his teeth. He was too afraid to speak and break the heated stare she flashed at him now.
“You will stay.” She reached out toward his swollen lip and pressed her thumb against the tender flesh. “And there will be no one else.”
He remained still, wonder struck as her honey hair fell around her in the candlelight as if she were an avenging angel. Perhaps she was. His heart certainly was being crushed in his chest as she licked her lips and leaned forward.
“Does that hurt?”
She pressed her lips to the sting, then pulled back enough to see him to nod.
“And this?” she asked, trailing her hand down his neck and across his chest.
“Not anymore.”
“No?”
She grabbed his hand and placed it over her heart. “I can kiss you, Ian, but this isn’t quick to forget. You broke it.”
“Let me fix it.”
“I don’t trust you.”
He growled, reaching up to hook his hand behind her neck and drawing her close enough to kiss. Gentle, searching. Begging her to try to trust him, begging for a second chance.
Her lips were soft against his, and she tasted of vanilla and tea, and he was certain she was taking him apart with each small touch by the way his chest ached.
“Come to London with me,” he whispered against her lips as they broke apart.
She ran her hands back into his hair, then tugged, dragging his lips back to hers. She controlled the kiss, licking the seam of his mouth until he allowed her in, and she pressed her tongue against his. Sweet, sweet torture.
Then Charlotte sat down and rolled her hips, pressing against his cockstand. The water sloshed against the side of the bathtub as she sighed into his mouth.
“Let me spoil you,” he continued as he ran his hands down her back and rounded them over her arse. “Let me show how…” He pressed his lips to her temple and rocked up against her, slamming his eyes shut when his cock twitched at the utter torture of feeling her soft quim pressed against him. “Please.”
Charlotte pulled away, her eyes a little wild as she glanced at his mouth and then at his eyes. She swallowed, tugging at her chemise.
“When I saw you that night, I knew you had my heart before ever hearing your voice. And when you left, I was certain I would never learn to love again. And now you’re here, and I don’t know what I want to do with you.”
Again, his cock twitched. Something about her wishing to control him, even if it was only to protect herself from being hurt once more, only served to increase his desire.
“Don’t go,” he said as she stood, towering above him.
She reached out and ran her fingertips under his chin, tipping his head so he could gaze up at her.
“I can’t stay,” she whispered.
“Come to London, Honeybee.”
