Page 71 of How to Best a Marquess

Chapter Twenty

Hugh gazed down at Ellie as he considered what she’d said.

If Ellie Swift had attempted to test his restraint tonight, she’d succeeded. He’d experienced every emotion—anger, fear for her, possessiveness, and tenderness. For a man who prided himself on his self-control—in and out of the boxing ring—he hadn’t liked the vulnerability.

As soon as Ellie had opened the carriage door, a breathless rage had consumed him. Worse, he knew that she wouldn’t stop her efforts, no matter how dangerous, no matter how much she risked the wrath of dangerous men, like Baron Willoughby, upon her doorstep. Hugh’s temper had never flared as often as it had in Ellie’s presence.

His eyes traveled her face, the gentle slope of her cheek, her pert lips. He drew a ragged breath, and her unique perfume invaded his senses.

She desired one more night. Could he do it and not want more?

He bent his head, seeking her lips once again. A fire raged just beneath the surface, and soon his fingers worked the small buttons on the back of her gown. The fabric gaped, and his mouth traveled a path down the slender column of her throat to the swell of her breasts. The taunting freckles were there, urging his lips to touch and lave.

She arched toward him and made a sexy little sound in her throat. It was suddenly urgent that he touch more of her skin. Soon the gown slid down her arms, the flare of her hips, her legs, and she stepped out of the fabric. She turned and offered her back, and he made quick work of her stays until she stood before him in her shift. The simple white cotton was both innocent and heightened his arousal.

His fingers trembled as they reached for her, but she pushed him away and removed the shift herself.

Good God.

Candlelight flickered over her naked flesh, over every curve and hollow and luscious dip. Her red hair gleamed in the light. She was a goddess.

Hisgoddess.

He knew that he was lost, and he no longer cared. “Ellie, you are so beautiful.” His voice was hoarse to his own ears.

“So are you,” she whispered, then stepped into his embrace.

He swooped her into his arms and carried her before the low-burning fire in the hearth, where he set her on her feet. He tugged off his boots and hastily removed his clothing until he stood before her bold, unhesitant, urgent.

They met in a fiery kiss and sank to the carpet. His hands cupped her breasts, her hips, touched every soft curve that was made for him. She arched beneath him, and her throaty sighs made him even harder. She was slick and wet by the time his shaft brushed against the softness between her thighs.

It was all he could do not to thrust forward and embed himself inside her sweet, tight body. Gritting his teeth, he worked into her slowly, in steady thrusts.

“Is there pain?”

“No. Not this time. Only pleasure.”

He continued pressing forward inch by scalding inch until she writhed beneath him.

She responded by raking her nails down his back. The effect was like setting a lit match to a firework. He held back as much as his strained control would allow.

Her head rolled back, her neck extended in an elegant curve. “Hugh, I need—”

“I know what you need,” he said gruffly.

He ground his hips forward, until he was fully embedded inside her delicious body. Her breasts molded beneath his chest. Confident he wasn’t hurting her, he increased the tempo of his thrusts. She became fevered then, matching his movements. Her nails dug into his buttocks, driving him into a frenzy of need, and he almost came then. He grit his teeth, and held back until she…

Her first contraction triggered his own release. Rapture chased along his spine. He threw back his head, tried to hold it off, but the ferocious need to possess, to mark her as his, raged within him, and he came deeply and fully within her.

Gasping, he rolled onto his side. Slipping from the slick heat and solace of her body went against every fiber in his body. Knowing this might be the last time he was with her was even worse. He rested his head on his arm and looked down at her. Never had he experienced such intense pleasure. Never had he lost all control.

The potential consequences struck him in the gut.

She didn’t want a child, didn’t want a husband, didn’t want him.

“Ellie, I—”

“That was lovely.”