Page 78 of Empowered By the Earl (Second Sons of London 3)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Louisa felt asif she had come home as Owen’s arms encircled her, drawing her against him. His lips caressed hers tenderly, an aching beauty to be found in his kiss.

Then he grew bolder, his mouth pressing hard against hers, quick kisses and breaks, and then more hungry kisses. His hands roamed her back as she clung to him, her fingers tightening on his waistcoat, afraid he would move away and leave her bereft.

The kisses became softer, almost as light as butterflies now, leaving her lips and dancing across her cheeks. Her eyelids. Her brow. Her temple. They trailed to her ear, his breath hot as his tongue dipped into the shell of her ear, causing a jolt to run through her. She made a guttural noise unlike anything that had ever come from her.

And giggled.

He kissed her jawline and between kisses, said, “I have never liked a giggler. Until I heard the sound coming from you. Your giggles are quite intoxicating, Louisa. As you are.”

His lips traveled back to hers and his kisses became an assault now, battering against the barrier of her lips until she allowed him entrance. His tongue plunged inside her mouth, claiming her, hot velvet tangling with her tongue, the scent of his soap and maleness wafting about her. His kiss demanded that she submit to him. Louisa wanted to fight it but couldn’t. Temptation proved too great and she gave herself over to it.

Owen’s body shifted, his hands leaving her back. She wanted to protest but found herself scooped into his arms. He went to the chair beside the window and sat. In his lap now, she wrapped her arms about his neck and lowered her mouth to his. This time, she was the invading force, seeking to dominate him. Their tongues tangled in a war with no losers as those delightful tingles rippled throughout her. At the center of her core, the low, pounding beat of an inner pulse began, drumming steadily, speeding up, crying out in need.

“Touch me!” she cried, breaking the kiss. “I need you... to touch me.”

A brilliant smile lit Owen’s face. “Exactly where would you like me to touch you, Louisa?” he asked, his voice low and seductive.

She felt herself flame with embarrassment. “I can’t say it.”

He kissed her long and hard. Breaking the kiss, he told her, “Oh, yes, you can. You can say anything to me. Ask anything of me. And know that I will give you satisfaction like no other man can.”

She swallowed hard, biting her lip, not knowing how to ask for what she wanted because such thoughts had never come to her before.

“Stop that,” he chided lightly. “If anyone is going to sink their teeth into that full, lovely lip, it will be me.”

He took her mouth again and she sensed the need driving him. He captured her lip between his teeth, holding it, teasing it with his tongue. Then he released it, soothing it with that same tongue, causing her bones to completely dissolve.

Owen kissed her endlessly, until her heart pounded so hard and fast that she thought it might break through her chest. His lips finally left hers, trailing along the column of her throat, going lower. She knew what would come because he had done this before.

Then he surprised her, rising from the chair and placing her on her feet, spinning her around. His warm fingers moved along the buttons, unfastening them, each time kissing her nape after he freed one. Somehow her gown was gone, followed by her petticoat. Breathless, she felt him loosening her stays before flinging them aside.

His arms came about her, drawing her into him, his hands caressing her belly as his lips caressed her neck. Then he turned her in his arms so that they faced one another and he began a long series of drugging kisses that left her trembling with desire.

Owen took the hem of her chemise and lifted it over her head, tossing it to the floor and then eased off her slippers. He took her hands, lacing his fingers through hers and holding her hands away from her, his eyes feasting upon her. All Louisa wore were her stockings and garters—and a coat of red embarrassment that seemed to color her entire body.

“You are so beautiful,” he said softly. “Quit squirming. Let me look at you.”

She felt the heat everywhere and it only grew hotter as his gaze swept over her.

“I am a lucky man,” he told her. “Because you are going to be mine. Forever.”

He pulled her into his arms again, her bare skin against his clothing. The feeling was erotic as she brushed against him. He cupped her buttocks, kneaded them, his lips buried against her throat.

Then she found herself swept up again and he carried her to the bed, placing her upon it sideways, her legs dangling from it.

“Stay there,” he ordered, stepping back and unknotting his cravat.

Louisa watched in fascination as Owen stripped his own layers from him, revealing a taut, muscled physique that her fingers itched to touch. She sat up, wanting to go to him.

“No,” he ordered, stepping to her and pushing her back against the feathered mattress.

A thrill ran through her as she remembered how he had touched her before.

“Are you going to... put your fingers... inside me again?” she asked, hoping he would.

A wicked grin lit his face. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

---