Page 66 of Oddity of the Ton
She blinked, and moisture gleamed in her eyes.
“Y-you mean…?” She trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief.
“I’m not known as a kind man,” he said. “I’ve lived an indulgent life by virtue of my wealth and station, and have had neither cause nor desire to think of others. But, at that moment in the ballroom, I had not a care for myself, or for the other guests. At that moment, I thought only of you.”
A tear spilled onto her cheek, and he lifted his hand to her face, wiping the tear with his thumb.
She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, a soft whimper on her lips.
Overcome by her instinctive gesture of trust, he dipped his head and brushed his lips against her mouth.
Her eyes flew open, and his body tightened at the raw desire in their expression—a desire to match his own.
Gently, he flicked his tongue against the seam of her lips. With a sigh, she parted them, and he slipped inside, tenderly at first, as if approaching an untamed filly—then he stroked her mouth in a sweeping gesture, taking possession of the lush, uncharted lands. He moved slowly at first, so as not to frighten her, until she began to respond, flicking her tongue against his, seeking his tongue out when he withdrew it, and parting her lips further to invite him into her warm depths.
Sweet heaven!Unconstrained by convention, she was exploring her own needs—honestly and innocently. He could think of nothing more arousing.
He deepened the kiss, and, slowly, her body came to life. A spark of need ignited in his groin as he felt two hard little peaks nudging insistently against his chest.
Unable to stop himself, he wrapped his arms around her and caressed her body, moving his hands gently at first, before sweeping them across her back, taking possession of her. Then he dipped his hand lower until he reached her derriere and squeezed the soft, round flesh.
A small cry reverberated through her body, and she shifted her thighs apart. His senses were assaulted by the scent of lavender and spices, together with the sweetest, most delectable scent of all—the scent that all men craved.
The unmistakable scent of a woman ready to be fucked.
Devil’s toes!What the bloody hell was he doing?
His conscience crashed through his ardor, dousing it as thoroughly as if he’d been thrown into an ice-cold lake. He broke the kiss and pulled back, holding her at arm’s length.
Her eyes flew open, and, for a moment, his cock threatened to explode. Face flushed, eyes bright, she looked like a woman on the verge of her climax. Then the passion in her gaze turned to shame. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she let out a cry.
“Miss Howard—I must apologize,” he said. “I have no idea what overcame me. Rest assured, I’ll not take such liberties again.”
If anything, his assurance seemed to increase her distress.
“Lady Marlow was right,” he added. “I’m a cad of the worst degree.”
She shook her head. “No, Your Grace. You’re kinder than you would have people know. I-I behaved abominably just then. I…”
He caught her hand. “Youhave nothing to reproach yourself over. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, then you only need ask.”
She glanced at the painting. “No, there’s nothing.”
“Except, perhaps, the painting,” he said.
“The painting?” She frowned. “I doubt Lord Francis would sell it—and I wouldn’t want it. If I wanted a Stubbs replica, I could paint it myself.”
“Notthatpainting,” he said. “Would you like to seemypainting?”
“Your painting?”
Monty smiled to himself at the delight in her voice. “Yes,” he said. “At my home.”
“Wouldn’t it be an imposition?”
“Of course not. It’s only a day’s carriage ride.”
“Oh,” she said, her eyes widening. “I-I thought you meant your house in London. So the painting’s…”
