Page 70 of The Marquess Method
I’m going to be ravished. Again.
He released her neck and sat back on his heels before her thighs, one big hand splayed possessively against her stomach, holding her in place. His fingers moved against her, gliding easily through her already wet, wanting flesh.
“I want those fucking pillows off the bed, Theo.” Then, without further preamble, Haven leaned forward and pushed her knees up, entering her with one punishing thrust. He didn’t move, giving her body time to adjust and accept him.
Theo could only gasp as her breasts strained against the confines of her dress, wanting his mouth, his fingers.
God,why hadn’t Haven undressed her?
“Theo?” He moved ever so slightly, and a violent jolt shook down her body. The pleasure inside her was sharp. Waiting for the slightest push from him. She wiggled, needing him to move, but Haven refused, looking down at her with a raised brow.
Damn him.“Fine. Yes. Very well. No more bloody pillows. I promise. Unless I use one to suffocate you.” A whimper left her. “Please, Ambrose.”
He kissed her fiercely but with exquisite tenderness. “Fair enough.” Then he proceeded to take her rather savagely on the worn sofa of the studio until the springs creaked in protest. Their joining wasn’t pretty. Or romantic. Not even the stuff of the novels she so loved.
It was far more glorious.
The slap of their bodies as he took her filled the air, mixing with their cries of pleasure.
Haven rocked into her until her body hummed and writhed beneath his.
“Ambrose.” Theo’s head fell back as the first ripples of pleasure overtook her, arching her back and curling her toes.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he said, the restraint as his own release threatened to overtake him evident. He pressed his forehead to hers, slowing his pace. Tenderly, his lips caught hers.
Her body uncoiled, spiraling around his as stars burst before her eyes, lighting up the studio and the man above her. He groaned at the clench of her muscles, his face falling to the crook of her neck until there was nothing but the two of them. Bound together.
24
Theodosia’s spectacles had stayed on during their entire delicious, inappropriate, middle-of-the-day...romp.
Ambrose eventually divested her of her clothing, afterward. Theo gave protest, stating they would only have to dress her again to go downstairs. Women’s clothing was an exhausting process, she stated, thus the need for maids.
“I don’t mind. Besides, there’s a door on the other side of the hall which leads to the servant’s stairs. No one will notice us. And the door has been open the entire time. I hope Rolfe didn’t hear you screaming and venture up to check on you.”
Theo giggled. Haven really was terrible. “Rolfe would never do so. He’s very Pith-like. Pith never bats an eyelash at any of the Barrington antics. Takes everything in stride. I’m sure he’s practicing fencing with Phaedra right at this moment.” She turned to take him in. “Which you will be blamed for.”
“Your sister is mildly frightening.” Haven was gliding his fingers over the skin of one breast, watching with fascination as the nipple tightened and peaked beneath his ministrations. He pressed a kiss to the tip.
Pleasure twisted inside her once more. If she didn’t think they’d eventually be missed, she would cheerfully stay here with Haven forever. But eventually he’d need food. A great deal of it.
His mouth danced against her neck. “I meant to seduce you after dinner.”
“Did you?” Only Haven would think of food before seduction. “Were you going to ply me with wine?” Her finger trailed along his jaw, rubbing over his bottom lip.
“Gingerbread.”
“I know. Rolfe told me.”
Haven managed to appear offended and predatory all at the same time. Probably because his fingers were moving through the soft down of her mound, teasing her. “It was meant to be a surprise. I was going to share it with you. Maybe in a bath. After dinner.”
A slight tremor ran through her at the light, seductive touch. “I might have known—” Her tone raised an octave as his fingers found the still-sensitive bit of flesh. His thumb rotated and pressed softly. “—your stomach would come before me,” she breathed, opening her legs more fully.
Theo had never felt so wanton. It was incredibly freeing.
“Nothing comes before you, Theodosia.” He pressed a kiss to the end of her nose. “Nothing.” His fingers stroked until she whimpered against him.
“I think it wrong,” a soft gasp left her, “for you to use sexual conquest in order to get me to agree with you.”
