Page 30 of Master of Games
“I was shot. I need to find the man who did it and have him arrested. Convicted. For everyone’s safety, including yours.”
“Oh.” Now she felt like a fool. Of course he needed to do that. “I understand.”
“When will you come to London?” he asked, and she heard him crossing the room.
“After Christmas. Unless my father wishes to Christmas in London. Which he might.”
“Months from now, then.” He touched her shoulder. “Would I be able to come visit again? After I’ve taken care of this threat?”
He was going to come back? “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”
He let out a long, slow breath. “Patience isn’t always my best virtue, but for you, I will patiently prove that you can trust me.”
Something in those words melted her heart. She turned to him and, before she even knew what she was doing, she set down the tray, and tossed herself into his arms.
He caught her, despite his injury, their lips crashing together.
She didn’t want to think about her fears or the future. She just wanted to feel him.
Tomorrow, she’d be in this house alone again. Why had she wasted today? “One more day,” she said between kisses, one of her legs wrapping about his waist. “Stay for one more day.”
“Done,” he answered, and then lifted her with his one arm, her other leg coming about his waist, her arms securely around his neck.
Their mouths devoured one another, their bodies grinding together as he carried her into her room, lowering her on the bed.
His body on top of hers, he flexed his hips to rub against her exactly where she needed it.
She cried out into his mouth, her fingers grasping his hair to pull him closer.
He kissed her again, their tongues tangled together before he lifted up, his breathing heavy as he stared down at her. “Don’t be afraid.”
“What…”
But she could only get out the single word before he slid down her body, flipping her skirts up her waist.
Her hip held several lashing scars but she couldn’t even think about them as he dropped to his knees, his head between hers.
“Caden.”
In answer, he tipped forward, his tongue darting out to run through the folds of her sex.
She gasped out a cry, her body arching as pleasure coursed through her. “Yes.”
His response was to repeat the touch, setting a rhythm that lit her body with desire as she once again found his hair and dug her fingers in, helping him move just where she needed his lips and tongue.
What they’d done before paled in comparison to this. She never dreamed that his touch could feel this good, be this deep.
And she just knew…she needed to chance his rejection. Whatever she feared, she had to consider what she might gain.
Keeping the rhythm of his tongue, he inserted a finger inside her. Every muscle in her body clenched as she tugged him even closer, her body so arched, she thought she might break.
And then she tipped over the edge, breaking into a thousand tiny, beautiful pieces.
She closed her eyes, her fingers relaxing in his hair, as she wilted into the bed. “Goodness gracious.”
“Did you mean, goodness Your Grace?”
She laughed, still breathless, her arm raising up over her head. He grabbed her skirts, shifting the fabric. She expected him to pull them down. Instead, he pushed them up a bit higher, his finger tracing the edges of her scars.
