Page 48 of A Lady's Lesson in Scandal
Ah. So. She isn’t going to be honest.
‘What does she have to do with Franklin St George?’
‘Exactly.’ Drake watched her closely, but she kept her face carefully blank. ‘What does she have to do with Franklin St George? And is she asking you to help her?’
He closed the distance between them. Lifting his hand, he brushed the tips of his fingers down her cheek. She was so goddamn soft. Like warm silk. He watched in fascination as her pupils dilated, leaving only a ring of chocolate around the edges. ‘You’re keeping secrets from me, Millicent.’
‘And what about you? Are you being honest with me?’
Drake clenched his jaw.
‘Precisely. As I said, neither of us have much trust.’
Before she could say more, he stopped her mouth with his own. This was easy. This was honest. This connection between them, pulsing with tension and need was so much simpler than conversation. So much better than ugly questions and even uglier answers.
Plunging his tongue into her depths, he caught her around the waist, pressing her lush curves against the hardened planes of his body. When she melted, he wanted to roar in triumph.
I am not giving her anything but physical pleasure. I’m still in control of what matters. My heart. My loyalty. Myself.
So, how was he any better than St George? Only offering physical pleasure. No more. He pushed the question aside, unwilling to destroy this moment with useless introspection.
He tangled his tongue with hers. His bold temptress scraped her teeth over his bottom lip and bit hard enough to make him growl.
His hands wandered down her back, cupping her generous arse and squeezing hard. She was firm and fit where most women were soft and delicate. Just what made her so athletic was a question for later. Now, he gave in to his wild need. Pulling away from their kiss, he nibbled along her jaw, down her throat, until he buried his nose in the fragrant patch of skin between her clavicles.
‘Did you ever feel desire like this for him?’ It was a cruel question, but Drake wasn’t feeling kind. He was nothing like St George and he wanted Millicent to admit it. What they shared together, what she felt for Drake was more. He was better than that snivelling, vile excuse for a man.
‘No. Never.’ Millicent’s harsh whisper only heightened his need.
‘You won’t feel this for anyone else. I promise you. We may not have much trust, but I’m asking you to pledge to me your faithfulness. I will not share you, Millicent. Not with anyone.’ Distant marriage be damned. At least in this. At least for now. He spoke around heated kisses as his fingers traced along the neckline of her gown.
Millicent scraped her nails against his scalp, scratching hard enough to spike his lust a notch higher. She pulled him away from her with a strength that shouldn’t surprise him. ‘And what about you, my lord? I am not a woman who tolerates inequity. My fidelity is only yours if you promise me the same. I don’t like to share either, Drake.’
God, she was magnificent. Strands of her hair had come loose from his fingers tunnelling into the silky depths. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her eyes heavy-lidded. How could he possibly want another woman when he could have her?
‘You have my promise, Millicent. However long this lasts between us, my body is yours completely. Will you give me the same promise?’ This wasn’t how their conversation was meant to progress. Drake had planned on questioning her, determining what her game was with Franklin St George, then outlining exactly how their marriage would proceed. But she had derailed him. Something she did with alarming regularity. And now, instead of demanding her faithfulness, he was asking for it. Like a love-sick swain.
But this isn’t love. It’s lust. Only desire. And I can control that.
‘I swear it, Beau. My body is yours alone for as long as this lasts.’
I want more.
What more could he possibly want? He pushed the question aside and leaned down to press kisses against the swell of her generous breasts. Reaching into her neckline, he scooped a delicious globe out, her strawberry nipple puckering for his mouth.
He fell upon her like a starving man upon a feast. Biting, nipping, sucking. So much better than his dream. He freed her other breast, her dress pushing them up and out like some pagan offering.
‘Beau!’ Her strangled cry unravelled him.
Lavishing her right breast with his mouth, his fingers mirrored his efforts with the left.
‘Are you wet for me, sweetheart?’ Soft words so unfamiliar to Drake, but they poured out of him whenever she was near.
‘I don’t… This never happened before.’ Millicent’s nails were like crescent indentations of fire on his neck as she held him closer.
Pulling free of her, he tugged her over to a chaise, laying her out like some decadent feast. Her breasts – gloriously free from their constraints – were blatantly naked while the rest of her remained clothed. It was erotic and so fucking sensual. His cock jerked. He could rub himself to completion just looking at her. But she had given him a better idea.
‘Lift your skirts for me, Millicent.’
