Page 20 of Surrender to Sin

On another occasion the Miles’ townhouse would have been perfect for a secret tryst. The sheer number of alcoves, darkened hallways, and wide window ledges ensured enough possible locations to service an entire bloody regiment. Unfortunately, a place like this was a damned annoyance when you and your lover actually wanted to be found.

Growling in frustration, Sin turned away from yet another shadowed corner. “Too bloody private.”

Grace glared at him. “Sebastian! At this rate we’ll be back in the music room fucking while the church roof committee fundraises around us.”

He stilled, unable to stifle a grin. “Did you just say fucking?”

“I, uh, well…I may have. So what if I did?” she replied defiantly, lifting her chin.

Giving in to the temptation to touch her, Sin cupped the back of her head with both hands and gently delved under the high neck of her appalling gown to stroke her soft skin with his thumbs. “You must know that when words like fucking and pussy and clit come out of your sweet, ladylike mouth, I get so hard it hurts.”

“Indeed?” said Grace slowly, stepping closer and rubbing those taut little nipples against his chest again. “In that case…do you know I dreamed of you all night after I got home from the Gardens? My backside was still tender from the dildo, and my pussy and clit swollen from the way you took me so wonderfully hard and deep in the carriage. When I woke up wet this morning, I…I actually reached for you to ease the ache.”

Sin stared at her heavy-lidded eyes and pink cheeks, speechless with lust. Again the unpleasant thought of how he would ever be able to say a final goodbye to this woman stormed into his mind, and it proved impossible to set aside.

Angry at his own weakness, hating Baxter even more than before, and all the nameless, faceless, suitable prospective husbands of Grace’s future, he kissed her hungrily. He was probably bruising her soft lips with such brute force, but he was unable to stop, not when her arms twined about his neck and all he could hear were whimpers as she melted against him. Finally he picked her up and set her on a wide, cushioned window ledge, standing between her spread thighs and rucking up her gown.

“Grace…” he said hoarsely, his control hanging by a thread at the sight of her damp curls, the intoxicating spicy scent of her swollen, pink pussy.

“Don’t talk. Hurry!”

“Demanding, imperious, woman,” said Sin, a rusty laugh escaping as he sank two fingers into her drenched slit, her slickness audible as he twisted and stroked. “Hmmm. I’m not sure you are wet enough to take me yet. Should I suck your nipples? Rub your clit? Perhaps finger your tight little ass for a while?”

“Do not tease me, Sebastian St. John,” Grace said fiercely, and before he could move, she leaned forward, tore the top button of his linen shirt and nipped his flesh with her teeth. “Fuck me. Like you mean it.”

Christ.

Violently aroused by her unashamed need, so close to coming he could hardly see straight, Sin somehow managed to unfasten his trousers and free his engorged cock. Coating the head in her juices, he thrust several inches in then pulled back, setting up an uncompromising rhythm to the symphony of her ragged moans.

“That’s it, darling. Louder. Let them all hear you.”

“Harder. Please. Oh God, please, more.”

“Like that?” he asked, plunging brutally deep, the question entirely unnecessary as her fingernails dug into his neck and she climaxed with a wild cry. Barely able to withdraw in time, shocked at the selfish, primitive urge to break his own rule and risk a pregnancy by spilling every drop of his seed inside her, he came all over her mound and inner thighs with a low roar.

“Sebastian? Is something wrong?”

He quickly shook his head. “No. I just seem to have lost the ability to think. And remain upright. Excuse me while I slide to the floor and become syllabub. Or in my case, Sinabub.”

The rich sound of Grace’s laughter warmed his heart, and he leaned forward, capturing her mouth with his own. The tender kiss couldn’t be more opposite to their frenzied fucking, and at that moment he knew he was in far deeper trouble than he’d ever imagined.

“We need a handkerchief,” she murmured, her head falling back to rest against the diamond window pane. “There is one in my reticule.”

After swiftly cleaning them both up, Sin stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket and tucked his cock back in his trousers, but didn’t fasten them. Nor did he fully lower Grace’s gown. “I think I hear footsteps. Fear not, Lady Carrington, we are soon to be discovered.”

“Will you be thrown out of the townhouse?”

“Probably not thrown. I did bribe my way in by making a donation to the church roof fund. Never ceases to amaze me how fast the cold and righteous forget their scruples in exchange for a bank draft.”

“What kind of sum?” she said, looking at him not with avarice, but mild curiosity.

He shrugged. “Two thousand pounds. I know the church they are repairing; it is an old and pretty building, with some kind and truly Christian parishioners.”

“Two thousand! Baxter was preening over three hundred.”

“He would. No doubt he’ll make them get on their knees and grovel for every penny as well,” Sin replied, his gaze narrowing. “I saw the two of you talking, and his grip on your arm. What else did he say?”

Grace’s lips tightened, and he regretted the loss of her soft, sated smile. “That if I am a silent, docile china doll, who accepts his painful, perfunctory bedchamber visits, I will have the honor of birthing sons to carry on his line, and daughters to sell to the highest-ranked bidder. All while gaining a veritable tidal wave of tasteful jewelry, figurines, posies, and hair ribbons.”