Page 23 of The Duke of Kisses
“Sometimes.” His answer seemed a bit noncommittal. “Why do you live with your sister? Is it because she’s sponsoring your Season?”
“Yes, and because my life in Yorkshire with my parents was unfathomably dull.” Particularly after her dearest—and really only—friend had married two years ago. Fanny suppressed a shudder when she thought of how she could be married to the odious Mr. Duckworth. “I hail from a small town called Pickering. It’s just north of Nowhere, right next to Nothing.”
His mouth ticked up in a slight smile. “Sounds heavenly.”
“It isn’t. Or at least, it isn’t with my family. With the right person, it might be. There is an astounding number and variety of birds. I’ll return at some point. I wish to start a—never mind.” She was beginning to learn that she didn’t need to tell everyone everything, and doubted he’d care to hear about her workhouse idea.
“I shall make a point of visiting someday, especially if you’re going to be there. Were you going to say something else?”
He looked at her with such avid curiosity that she wondered why she would keep anything from him. “I plan to start a workhouse that will help unmarried mothers and orphans. We’ll train them to find positions outside the workhouse to give them the best possible life.”
His gaze swept over her face with warmth and admiration. “You’re still testing my resolve, Fanny.” The words came out soft but with a scalding heat.
She edged closer, scooting an inch or two along the bench. “I wasn’t trying just then, but I’ll take what I can get.”
“I really should resist.” He leaned closer. “But you make it blessed difficult.”
She tipped her head back as he loomed over her. “And I’m trying to be a proper young Society miss, but I’d much rather kiss you.”
“Then we are in agreement there.” He hesitated the barest moment before muttering something she couldn’t quite understand. Then his lips claimed hers and his arms came around her back, pulling her closer.
She’d dreamed of this moment so many times but had long ago given up hope. Until she’d seen him at the ball the other night. Then her imagination had taken flight once more, and now here they were. She put her hands on his chest and slid them up his coat as his lips opened over hers.
Sensation threatened to sweep her away when her tongue touched his. The memory of his kiss had filled her for four long months, but the reality was more intense than she imagined. There was wet heat and a surprising urge to thrust into his mouth and claim what she wanted. She felt brazen and seductive. Powerful. But also a willing recipient of his boldness, ofhisseductive power. He might not make a habit of kissing women, but he was certainly skilled.
One of his hands cupped the back of her neck as he tilted her head and slanted his mouth over hers, gaining deeper access and joining them more intimately. With his other hand, he pulled her flush against his chest so that her breasts tingled from the contact. Indeed, her entire body came alert with sexual curiosity and need. An image of herself throwing her leg over his lap and straddling him invaded her mind and set off a burst of heat between her thighs.
She clutched at his neck, returning his kiss with all the fervor bursting inside her. The hand on her neck moved to cup the side of her face as he drew away—not far, just enough to look into her eyes. His had darkened to flinty steel. “Fanny, this is dangerous territory.”
“It’s lovely territory. I’m keen to explore more of it.” She pressed on his neck, urging him to kiss her again.
With a soft groan, his mouth crushed hers, his tongue licking along her lips and his teeth grazing her flesh. She gasped while his thumb stroked her cheek and his tongue plundered her mouth. Their first kiss had been sweet with a bit of spice, while the second had been audaciously exciting. This was something wholly different. This was primal and urgent, utterly demanding. He insisted upon her response, and her body required satisfaction.
He pulled away again, this time breathing heavily and putting space between them. “I think that’s enough for today.”
Disappointment chilled her, but she knew he was right. She wasn’t entirely sure what would happen next, but she knew it oughtn’t take place on a bench in her sister’s garden. Even so, she could think of no better place. She’d met him outside and associated the smell of earth and the sound of birds with how it felt to be in his arms.
She took in the rigid planes of his face and allowed her gaze to dip over his frame. Men were at a distinct disadvantage, for their arousal was often plainly visible through their garments. She wondered if hers was in any way. She felt a woozy desire, a need that pulsed between her legs, but surely none of that could be seen. “How do I look?” she asked, barely recognizing the low rasp of her kiss-drenched voice.
His attention sharpened, indicating he might have been suffering the same woozy state. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m trying to determine if you can see how I feel. The way I can see you.” Her gaze dropped again to his crotch.
He smiled. “Ah. You are rather observant.”
“It’s hard to miss,” she said wryly.
He leaned close and whispered, “Just imagine if we were standing. Then you’d feel it against you.”
Molten fire dripped through her, tightening the desire she felt below her belly. “Now who’s testing our resolve?”
“You make it far too easy.” He turned from her and inhaled deeply. “No more kissing.”
“Ever?”
“Not today.”
She was still disappointed, but acknowledged that was the smart plan. “Well, if I can count on kissing you each time I see you—or at least nearly—I shall be quite content. Though, I may have to give you one of my sister’s Untouchable nicknames. The Duke of Kisses, I think.”
