Page 34 of The Heart of an Earl

The line of his jaw twitched. “Did you love him?”

Her head snapped back. “No.”

His gaze cut into her, his look piercing her to her soul.

“No.” She met his stare, repeating the word. “I never loved him. Coupling was never about that. It was just…just sex. Something my body wanted. Moments of escape from the cruel reality about me. It had nothing to do with my heart. But I respected him as much as I hated him. Think of me what you will, Des, but that is the crux of it. My body is not innocent. My soul is not innocent.”

Des’s eyes closed to her for a long breath. Two. Three. Four.

He took a step away from her, his legs hitting the chair, and he turned to the side, his hand rubbing his forehead. Her fingertips twitched, her nails digging into her thumbs. Waiting.

Waiting for the revulsion that he would shower her with.

His head shook, his lips pulling into a tight line as he finally shifted his gaze to her. “I’ve had a wife. You’ve had a husband. Neither one of us is an innocent.”

Her breath held in her chest. “And?”

“Innocence is overrated.”

He swallowed the space between them, crashing into her, his lips meeting hers. Salt and sweat and brandy touching her tongue. Her mouth cracked open and heat invaded her, sinking through her body, sparking all her nerves into attention.

His lips stayed on hers, molding her to him as his left hand shoved off her black coat. His fingers rough, they dragged up the bare skin of her right forearm until his thumb dove under the curve of her breast, the tips of his fingers slipping underneath her black corset and shirt, finding her nipple.

The first swipe against the nubbin and she curled at the waist, her core firing alive, throbbing. Her body more desperate for touch—his touch—than she’d let herself believe. A gasp caught in her chest and she shifted her hands in along his bare shoulders, moving up into his hair, tugging him downward. Away from her lips and onto her skin.

A chuckle bubbled up from his throat as his mouth left hers and dipped, his lips hungry on her neck, drifting downward, trailing along the bare skin of her chest as he worked free the ties on her corset.

The ties yanked apart and her corset fell from her body, then he tugged her too-big linen shirt over her head. Air. Warm air slipping around her body, his lips finding her skin once more, his tongue tasting her.

As he rolled her left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, his mouth descended to her right and clamped on, his tongue swirling.

Heaven. Heaven and hell dancing, tugging her body into a frenzy, all restraint leaving her. She sank her hands along his head, untamed mews vibrating up from her throat with every swipe of his tongue.

Her hips swayed toward him on their own volition, insistent, demanding more from his body, from his hands.

Trailing a line of kisses up her chest, Des suddenly stood straight, pulling away from her, an agonized quirk to his left eye as he shook his head. “This goes too far, Jules. It’s too much. Heaven help me, it will kill me, but I can still step away—we can still stop this.”

She moved forward, setting her lips on his skin, the taste of him on the tip of her tongue. “No, we can’t.” The words murmured onto his chest, heating the skin under her lips.

She could no more walk away from this than stop her very breath.

To prove the point, her hands dipped down, her fingers working the fall front of his trousers. Buttons loosened, and he was freed, his shaft jutting outward into her waiting hands as his trousers fell to the floor.

“Bloody hell, Jules, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

Her fingers tightened around his member, the cords straining along the length of it smooth bumps under her touch. “I imagine it’s the exact thing you’re doing to me.”

His mouth collided down onto hers, stealing her words as he dragged loose the hemp rope that held her trousers and ragged skirt in place above her hips. They fell, landing in a heap about her feet. She stepped out of the pile, kicking the clothes to the side with her boot. Her fingers couldn’t leave his shaft, unable to set free the raw core of him that demanded her touch.

The air in her chest ready to explode, she considered for one moment the bed, but didn’t want to aggravate his wounds.

“Sit.” The word twisted from her tongue to his.

He lifted his head from her, his right eyebrow arched.

She nodded, a lascivious grin curling her lips. “Sit.”

Des moved a step backward, dragging her body with him, his mouth dipping back to her nipple, his tongue swirling around the nubbin as he sat.

---