Page 16 of The Wager of a Lady
“You’re crude. Vulgar.”Terribly arousing.
“You’ve no idea the things I mean to do to you, Georgina.” He breathed against her neck, sending tendrils of pleasure down her back.
A finger ran down her arm, a whisper against her skin beneath the green wool.
Georgina closed her eyes, not trusting herself to look at him. Her fingers crawled into her skirts, clutching at the fabric for deliverance. “If you think giving me pleasure will assuage your guilt—”
“Guilt? A wasted emotion. I won’t feel the least guilty about fucking you, Georgina. I plan to do so repeatedly. Right on the settee. Then possibly the floor. Maybe bent over my desk. The possibilities are endless, and I haven’t yet decided.”
Georgina sucked in a breath. The place between her thighs, the spot John Winbow had touched but not satisfied, pulsed at his words. Leo was circling her like a hungry wolf scenting his prey, intent on drawing her out when she should seek safety.
He dragged the pads of his fingers along the base of her neck before tugging at the buttons lining her back. Insistent, but slow. Savoring the release of every button as it popped.
“I’ve wanted you for a very long time,” he murmured against the slope of her shoulder as another button came free.
“Odd.” She tried to stanch the quaking making its way up her body. “You’ve known me less than two years.”
“I adore your sharp edges.” An open-mouthed kiss fell on her neck as the dress fell from her shoulders. Teeth grazed. Nipped. The dress slid further down, trapping her arms at her sides. “What is it about your Beechwood Court that you would risk so much for it?”
It shouldn’t have surprised her Leo had come back to the subject of her little house. He was distracting her from the work of his hands, which would soon strip her bare. “It isn’t mine any longer.”
“Answer the question.” He nipped her again, hands sliding beneath the gaping wool of her dress.
Georgina arched in his direction without meaning to. “I told you before. When I thought you were listening to me and not looking at my bosom.”
“I was doing both.”
“It reminds me of the house my grandparents built. I spent quite a bit of time there until—until I came here. I was close to my grandmother. She died shortly after I married.” Another brush of his wide mouth over her shoulder. “Beechwood Court for some reason reminds me of her. I don’t know why.”
“Is that why you planted tulips?”
Georgina stilled, wondering how he knew about her attempts at gardening. “She loved tulips.” An entire field of tulips had surrounded Grandmother’s house in a cascade of color. Georgina had run through them when she’d been a child. “But along with painting and embroidery, I find I’m not very good at gardening.”
“You have your own talents, Georgina.” His forefinger traced the delicate line of her collarbone. “Lord Talbot has mentioned to me in the past that he wished he’d bought Beechwood Court when it was offered to him years ago.”
“Now he will have his opportunity.” First, his wife sends Georgina a copy of the book dictating everyone’s lineage in London. Now, he and Lady Talbot would enjoy her house. “As you probably have guessed, I don’t care for Lady Talbot nor her husband. I find Lord Talbot to be vile and free with his hands.
“Vile?” Leo’s big, calloused palms cupped her breasts. “No corset, Georgina?”
She trembled, instructing her legs to stop shaking. “I was in a bit of a rush. The dress doesn’t require it.”
“Ah.” He gently teased at the tips of her nipples.
Georgina had to bite her lip to keep from moaning out loud. She hadn’t imagined having him touch her like this would be so pleasurable. Certainly, Masterson had never touched her so. Oddly, Winbow hadn’t been overly interested in her bosom.
“Has he made advances on you?” There was a dark edge to the casually spoken words.
“What does it matter?” She gasped as one hand left her breast to skim down her stomach and gently cup her mound through the thin cotton of her chemise. “You aren’t much better, in my estimation. Please get on with it.”
“Georgina, the marker states I have your company for the night. I will take as long as I wish worshipping your magnificent breasts.” He pinched one of her nipples. “I can’t wait to have these little peaks between my lips.”
Her knees wobbled as his fingers gently traced her slit through the chemise.
“Georgie.” His tongue traced the outline of her ear while his fingers moved against her.
She exhaled softly at the sound of her name, shortened into an endearment. A tiny sob left her at the feel of her body melting, like warm wax, to meld to his larger form. Must he defeat her so soundly? Make her want him so much?
“Don’t be angry with me,” he whispered into her hair. “Not for this.” His palm stretched possessively over her stomach, while the other reached into her hair, dislodging the pins and allowing the heavy mass of her curls to fall down around her.
