Page 40 of A Scandalous Kind of Duke

With a fierce, angry kiss.

Her mouth landed on his and— Oh! The blessed sweet warmth of his lips under hers! In that warmth, those very human lips, she found the man—not the duke, not the carefully curated work of art. Just the man. She savored his taste and inhaled his scent, before lowering down and stepping away. Their matching ragged breaths unfurled around them.

“Leo,” she whispered.

He said nothing. His coat was askew. His posture was rigid.

His face was like granite.

“Oh no.”

She pressed a hand to her careless, greedy mouth. Chills spiraled through her, icing her blood with horror at her own wantonness, at the unprecedented, unacceptable act.

“Forgive me,” she stammered. “I ought never have— That was— Oh, please forgive me.”

She whirled around to flee, every inch of her now burning with hot shame.

Then a hand closed around her wrist. Pulled her back, firm and gentle.

She turned, time slowing, the air moving about them like molten honey, as his body stepped into hers. His hand caught her face. His gaze seared her. Yes! There he was! His eyes were hot and hard and fierce;thatwas what she craved, that glimpse of his dark, passionate corners, his own wildness and mess. She felt a thrill of triumph, a bolt of desire, a gust of affection, all in those desperate, dazzling heartbeats until his lips claimed hers.

His kiss was savage and raw, and as angry as her own. He was offering a piece of himself; she would seize every bit she could. To taste the man behind those glib words, to feel the man under those pretty clothes. Such delicious sensations, and they ought not to be so delicious, because this was Leo. Oh, what madness, she was kissing Leo!

And an army of angels would not make her stop.

She curled a hand around his neck, hauled him closer, her breasts crushed against his chest, their thighs meeting, their tongues dueling. If this was the only taste of him she’d ever have, then she would take it all and give herself, all her anger and loss and longing for—something, something could not name.

Somehow, the fury passed. They stopped, entwined like a statue, if a statue could be made of savage lava. Her hand cupped the strong column of his neck; his fingers pressed into her waist. Eyes closed, she rested her forehead on his jaw. Ragged breaths passed between them. Two lava beings holding each other up as the world shook and shuddered around them.

Then she moved, or he did. Her hands slid down his chest; his palm caressed her cheek. Their eyes dared not meet, but their mouths raced toward each other again.

If the first kiss had been a blizzard of hail and fire, this kiss was the shelter from the storm. This kiss was a warm room, and two naked bodies on a soft rug before the hearth.

Its tender truth seared her, soothed her. His mouth gently explored hers, while his fingers sketched languorous circles on her waist. She pressed deeper into him, and his arm swept around her, his hand curving around her buttocks to hold her tighter, as if he needed to consume all of her at once.

Then he left her, in a series of small losses, first his mouth, then his arm, then his body. When she opened her eyes, he was facing away, head bent, one hand planted on the wall, crushing the delicate jasmine blooms and sending their perfume into the air.

Juno trembled with bittersweet yearning, longing coursing through her body with every wild thump of her heart.

Was that desire? She had no other word, but it was more powerful than any desire she had known before. This sensation was to desire what an oil painting was to a cartoon.

Slowly, it subsided, as everything did. Leo was still melded to the wall, hiding his face.

Who are you? she wanted to ask.

Then:Who am I?

And then:If that was a kiss, I have never been kissed before.

Finally, he pushed himself off the wall. Straightened. Performed a series of movements, stiff as an automaton, arranging his coat, smoothing his cravat, raking his hair. When he faced her, he was once more impeccably put together.

While she felt all in pieces like a mosaic.

He looked untouchable.But I touched him,she thought fiercely.Not just his body or his senses. That kiss… I touchedhim.

She felt almost drunk with it. A tipsy-sounding giggle escaped her throat.

Oh, how silly they were. This was Leo! They were friends! They could laugh about this, then dash off to some secret place to explore what came next. Tumble into bed together, enjoy a few days before they parted.

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