Page 15 of The Scandal You Started
His smile dampened. “I understand.”
Finally.
Or not.
Because Lord Norland released her from his clutches, but he didn’t actually let go of her.
Instead, the horny fucking bastard tucked one fat arm under her arse and lifted her off the floor like some circus muscle man showing off his brawn.
Rayna squeaked and jerked into his thick frame, her hands instinctively fisting his linen shirt over his shoulders as she seesawed on the seat of his forearm.
“Easy there,” he said with a faint chuckle, spreading a large hand between her shoulder blades and nudging her even closer until there was barely an inch between their faces.
The delight that deepened the shades of yellow in his amber-ringed eyes set off a bomb in Rayna’s pulse, but this time she couldn’t quite contain her outrage.
“Lord Norland,” she snapped with a croak. “Put—”
“Dominic.”
The smoothness of his voice derailed the intensity of her anger, leaving her opening and closing her mouth on incoherent syllables. “What?”
He flashed her a crooked smile. “Since you have permitted me to use your given name, I would like you to use mine too. So please. Call me Dominic.”
A roadrunner zigzagged in her mind as she chewed over her options—one spiteful and the other logical. “Dominic,” she eventually said. “Put me down.”
Lord Norland’s—or rather,Dominic’s—lashes dropped to half-mast as he shuddered. His heady exhale traced a dozen paths across her jaw and neck, leaving a scattering of sparks in their wake that made Rayna stiffen. She held her breath, her heart ringing in her ears as her attention homed in on the flush of lust painting across the marquess’s cheeks.
Oh, shit.
Trouble. That look was pure trouble.
Bloody woods, was he a rake? River hadn’t said so, but he was making the face of a sex-starved beast, drooling over the thought of deflowering the nearest woman, so he probably was.
But, fuck, did he look pretty. If she put her hand around his throat—
Rayna!
“Put me down,” she said quickly, sounding far too breathless. “Now.”
“Of course, sweet Rayna.”
Dominic clearly had a different definition of“put me down,”because he began walking towards the bed, still carrying her. A blaring siren startled her heart into a panicked rhythm, but he was already sitting himself on the edge of the mattress. With a soft sigh, he settled her across his lap, her legs dangling on one side.
“Is that better?” he said, snaking both arms around her waist and locking her against him.
Better?Was he fucking serious?
“This isn’t what I meant,” she said, trying not to growl.
Bracing her palms against his firm pecs, she squirmed to push herself off the comfortable seat of his thighs. She was more than aware a few of her fingers were curling into the warmth of his tanned, hairy skin where his shirt hung open. But it became the least of her problems when Dominic hissed out a breath and curled towards her.
Something thickened and pressed against the side of her jeans-clad thigh.
Rayna stilled like lava poured into cold water. Her muscles solidified, but heat sizzled and spat right under her skin.
That’s not…please tell me that’s not his…
Dominic let out a single huff of pained amusement. “I would recommend against wriggling on a man’s lap, sweetheart. Unless it’s done with a particular intention in mind.”
