Page 44 of The Marquess and the Maiden

“I didn’t reject you or refuse you because I didn’t find you attractive, Harriet.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “And don’t, for a moment, think that what we have, whatever this is between us, has anything to do with Catherine or anyone else.” He bent and took her mouth. He reserved his ardor, giving only the sweetest of kisses.

She melted against him, sighing into his mouth. Her unrestrained breasts pressed to his chest, and he could feel the weight of them. Despite her lack of stays, he cursed the layers she did wear. He angled his head and deepened the kiss, and she opened for him. He marveled at the feel of her, the taste of her. He pressed his hand to her back, holding her tightly against him. Desire, heavy and thick, raged through him, settling in his groin. His erection pressed against the front of his trousers, but he ignored the pressure. He would not take her tonight, but he would taste her, watch her come apart in his arms.

He backed her up so they stood directly at her bed. His lips never left hers, and he pressed her backward until she fell onto the soft mattress.

“I cannot tell you how many times I’ve lain in bed after seeing you, imagining all the wicked things I would do to you,” he whispered as he trailed kisses over her jaw, down her throat. He moved a hand up to cup her breast, and she arched into his touch. She was so beautifully responsive.

Her nipple hardened beneath his palm, and again he cursed the fabric covering her body.

“Do you ever do that, Harriet? Imagine me touching you when you are in your bed?”

Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she nodded.

He wanted to ask her more. To tell him of her fantasies, but that would have to wait for another time. His lips found hers again, and she seared him with her passionate response. He moved down her body, pressing his mouth to her breast. The shift dampened under his tongue, molding to the hardened bud.

Her soft moans would prove his undoing. From his new position, he could smell the musky sweet scent of her desire. “Harriet, I need to taste you.”

“What?”

“Trust me.”

He shoved her nightgown up so that it bunched at her waist.

He cursed. Pale and pink and perfect hidden behind a triangle of golden curls.

She scrambled with the fabric, attempting to cover herself.

“No, love, you’re perfect, I only wish I could see you better.” He smoothed his hand over her thighs, around to her inner thighs.

He leaned forward and pressed kisses where his hands had been. She stiffened beneath him. He grabbed her left hand and laced their fingers together. With his right, he went back to her slick folds and ran his thumb against her.

She sucked in a breath and arched against his touch.

Then he lowered his mouth and licked her.

“Oliver, you mustn’t.”

“Shhh, love. ’Tis all right. Let me show you, and if you still want me to stop, I shall leave.”

She nodded quickly, then squeezed her eyes shut again.

He waited for her body to relax beneath him, and he heard her shaky breath. Her fingers gripped his. She was too proper to use words, but he took that as an invitation, and he let himself explore her.

“You’re so wet for me.” He stroked her. “So sweet.” He kissed her gently, not wanting to frighten her with the depth of his desire. He licked at her sex, delving inside her folds and lapping at her nectar. He could lose himself here with his mouth on her, and his erection pressed into the mattress beneath them.

But this wasn’t about him. This was about her. She worked so hard to do everything people expected her to do. The perfect lady. He wanted to show her what it felt like to lose control. To show her how things could be between them if only she’d give him the chance.

His kisses deepened. She whimpered and moaned. Her fingers slid into his hair and held him tightly to her core. He smiled against her, and finally let himself taste her as he wanted. He sucked and nipped and licked. She was so hot, so wet, and he was so bloody hard. Spilling himself inside her would be an experience unlike any he’d ever had, but it would have to wait.

Her climax was close; he could feel that with her erratic bucking against him. He slid first one and then a second finger inside her while he lapped at the hidden bundle of nerves.

One more deep suckle and she was lost. Her body clenched around his finger, her back arched, and she cried out his name again and again. Her voice calling his name…it was what he wanted to remember the moment he left this world. There would never be a sweeter sound. He knew, in that moment, he’d do whatever it took to ensure she became his wife. He’d be damned if any other man ever brought her that release.

When her body finished riding the waves of pleasure, he pulled her gown back over her body. He pulled himself upward and nuzzled her neck.

He grabbed her hand and held it to the front of his painfully tight trousers. “I will not take your virtue tonight, sweet Harriet. But know that this is for you and only you.” He kissed her forehead, then left her bed.

Harriet didn’t want to allow herself to believe he wanted her. It made him wonder what she’d heard when he’d rejected her those years ago. The interaction had clearly made an impact on her.

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