Page 74 of Real Earls Break the Rules

“Like hell it is.” He prowled forward on the Oriental carpet, a tall, muscular man. His expression was hard as granite, and she instinctively backed up a step.

She’d never seen him like this. Primal. Possessive. A towering dominant male.

“I can’t stop thinking of you,” he growled. “Forget Minerva. I can’t go through with it. I don’t want her.”

Her mind struggled to comprehend. “What are you saying?”

“I won’t marry her.”

“But you have no choice! What of the land and the factory?” He didn’t mean what he’d said. A jaded part of her suspected he’d say anything to get her alone and willing. He couldn’t possibly give everything up when he could save it so easily.

“I don’t care about any of it. You’re the one I want.”

“Brandon, I—”

“I have to have you, to possess you. To slide into your heat and stay there forever.” His voice was a low growl.

Sweet Lord. She looked into his eyes and saw the flash of pure male determination. Her heart skittered in her chest at the husky need in his voice.

“This is insanity,” she whispered.

His gaze raked over her hungrily. “Tell me you don’t feel the same.”

He padded close and reached out to run a finger down her cheek. She shivered at the intimate gesture. “I shouldn’t. But my resolve weakens whenever you touch me.”

“Then we must not resist the pull.”

Heat spread through her limbs at the hoarse need in his voice, and she felt the remnants of her willpower slip away. Her body and her heart longed for him. She didn’t protest when he took her by the shoulders and pulled her close and lowered his head. Every curve of her body molded against his as eager tremors coursed through her. The second their lips met, her own need escalated. There was nothing slow or sweet about his kiss. He kissed her deeply with a scalding passion that seared her heart. She moaned and returned his kiss, their tongues dueling as they clung to each other.

Together, they sank to their knees on the lush carpet.

His hands caressed the lines of her back and hips with slow, leisurely strokes that drove her wild. His palm traveled to cup her breast through the blue silk. She arched her back, offering herself to him, and he slipped a hand inside her low bodice to gently pinch her nipple. She gasped as fiery sensations coursed from her sensitive breasts to an aching spot between her legs.

“Brandon,” she breathed.

“Ah yes,” he groaned.

His fingers went to the back of her gown. The bodice loosened to reveal a fine linen chemise and a corset that thrust her breasts toward him, full and firm. Cool air rushed over her heated skin.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin.

She tugged on his hair. “Kiss me there,” she begged.

He eagerly complied, lowering his head to place a long, lingering kiss at the top of a breast that swelled above the fabric. She panted and felt a familiar ache build between her thighs.

She needed to touch him. Her hand lowered between their bodies to cup his powerful male harness. He jerked at her touch and hissed. She longed to feel the sensual heat of his naked skin, and her fingers went to the fall of his breeches.

“Vale?” the masculine voice came from the hall outside the door. “Are you in there?”

Oh no.

Amelia gasped in dismay and struggled to right her gown. Brandon pulled her to her feet and thrust her behind him.

A second later, the door was thrown open to slam against the opposite wall. “What’s going on here?” a male voice boomed.

Brandon’s broad shoulders blocked Amelia from view. “Your Grace.”

Fear knotted inside her. She’d raised the sleeves of the sapphire gown, but she’d never get the tiny buttons in the back fastened on her own. She glimpsed from behind Brandon just as a shaft of moonlight struck the Duke of Townsend’s face. The man’s expression was rigid with anger.