Page 48 of The Lady's Guide to Marrying a Viscount
Rubbing her wrist, she gave a perverse smile. “If you wish to hold my hand so badly, my lord, I’ll save you a dance at tonight’s ball. Hugo shall want most of my time, naturally, but I may spare you one turn about the room.”
“Believe me, Madam, I will prevent this match.” Mallon’s voice held a threatening growl. “I shall stop you, by whatever means. You may remain here until Twelfth Night, after which you may carry yourself to London and screw the entire male population of the capital, from frill-shirted footmen to the hammer-fisted butchers of Smithfields, but Iwillhave your promise to cease pursuit of my nephew.”
She appeared to flinch, but quickly regained her composure, and merely mouthed the words, knowing his eyes were fixed upon her lips.Make me!
In one great stride, he reached her, lifting her in a single sweep, one arm beneath the crook of her knee and the other about her back. Even before they arrived at the bed, his mouth was ravaging her. She gasped his name, but he swallowed it in theferociousness of his kiss.
Throwing her down onto the soft mattress, he towered above, his heart hammering wildly. She bit her lips where he’d kissed her, licking where she could still taste him. She smiled wickedly, then quivered as he grasped her breast through the sheer fabric of her gown. Three buttons on his trousers remained closed, constraining his girth. Despite the discomfort, he left them fastened; he was still in possession of himself, albeit by a thread.
Tipping back her chin, she invited his mouth, pulling his tongue inside, sucking on the tip, drawing him down to her, sighing with the weight of his body on hers.
God! It would be so easy!
He was straining for her, aching at the thought of what he might do. She wriggled beneath him while taking his kiss deeper.
She tasted of sin.
Kissing her prevented him from thinking properly. He wanted to slide into her and keep thrusting until they were both lost, clinging together, sweated and gasping.
It required all his self-control to peel himself away.
“Do you accept my terms, Madam?”
“I might,” she conceded, her mouth curving in a feline smile. “But I need more persuading…as to my compensation.”
“You might, or you will?”
“Tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll behave impeccably.” She pressed herself to him. “I want to hear how much you desire me. That you cannot bear the thoughtof another having me. You cannot admit it, but you’ll ache for me when I’m gone! You need love, Mallon, as much as any man! Even though you fear love will be snatched away as soon as it’s given, you cannot live without belief in a kindred soul to tarry with you through this life.”
In response, he grasped a handful of her hair, tumbled loose, wrapping its length about this fist. How dare she assume to know him, or the hidden yearnings of his heart! How dare she tell him what he felt!
Except that she was right on every count. She’d seen through his blood and bone to the fear clutched cold about his heart. Looking into the depths of her eyes, he saw no hint of taunting—only the sincerity of one whose own happiness lay in the answer he would give.
He relaxed his hold upon her hair—so soft and luxuriant—but kept her beneath him. He needed to maintain the upper hand, yet a tendril of hope unfurled within him.
“Your ring on my finger, Lord Wulverton…” Her voice was a whisper. “Your jousting lance, wherever you choose to put it…”
He suppressed a groan at hearing her offer herself so crudely.
Her lips curled in a knowing smile. “And my promise I’ll let Hugo down gently.”
She arched against him, the chiffon pulling tight against her breasts. Unable to resist, he kissed down her neck, pushing aside the fabric until he found her flesh. Brusquely, he took the nipple between his teeth, pulling it hard into the warmthof his mouth. She was trembling, fervent, willing—a voluptuous, scarlet vixen. Never before had a woman’s sounds of pleasure stirred him so profoundly.
“We may put the former on account,” she gasped, breathless, “and deal with the second and third on the list this very evening.”
His manhood, summoned by her oath, reminded him that it had already decided to accept, but his head told him not to trust her.
Whatever promises she made, he wouldn’t rely upon them this evening. Hugo was far too caught up in romantic ideas to hear her rejection tonight. He’d be inclined to think her charmingly modest—for weren’t all virtuous women supposed to refuse a first proposal and require further pursuit. The outcome of such games was too uncertain.
There was only one thing for it.
Slowly, he drew out the ivory ribbon gathering the yoke of her gown then, raising her arm, wrapped the satin around her wrist.
“Whatever you’re doing, I think I like it,” she murmured, lying still as he stretched out her other slender limb, securing both together, above her head. Kneeling above her, he freed the long sash from her waist and looped it through the bindings on her wrists before fastening it to the wolf’s head carved into the center of the headboard.
“Helpless and at your mercy,” she purred.
Bound as she was, she could not escape. The desire to treat her roughly again surged within him. His cock was straining for her, throbbing against the buttons atthe thought of what he might do. She wriggled beneath him, rubbing provocatively against the bulge in his trousers.
