Page 102 of How Not to Marry a Duke

The humorous comment lightened the mood, and she chuckled and leaned back on her elbows. “Your gardens are peaceful and pretty.”

A pleasant breeze cooled her cheeks and ruffled the tendrils of hair that had escaped her bun. Birds chirped in the tall trees, and colorful flowers of different hues—red, pink, blue, and white—bloomed in meticulous flower beds and scented the air with a heady perfume. Flowering shrubs lined the perimeter of the garden and secluded them from the outside world. His house was out of view, and she liked the isolation.

“I never have spare time to enjoy it,” he said.

“Yet you have time to help repair my cottage and treat my pet pig.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

A heart-pounding moment of hesitation passed before he finally answered. “Because it’s for you.”

The air stilled and her breath stalled. It was the closest he had come to expressing his feelings, and it was as if her entire future rested on that one pivotal moment. She stared with longing at him. His gaze met hers, and her heart turned over in response. Her whole being seemed to be filled with wanting.

If a few stolen moments were all they had together, then she was more than willing to seize the opportunity. A tangible bond existed between them, and, despite everything, she wanted to experience the man once more. All of him. She moved toward him, impelled by her own desire, and pressed her lips to his. She licked the seam of his lips and placed small kisses at the edge of his mouth.

He let out a long, ragged breath. “Adeline. I do not wish to take advantage.” His hand glided up her back, then stopped by the base of her neck. Despite his words, his fingers tightened, holding her close. Pleasure rippled over her skin, down her spine. She willingly abandoned herself to the whirl of sensation. Her body craved more of his kiss and his hands. A golden wave of passion—and love—made her lighthearted with need.

Foolish man. “You’re not.” His magnetism was potent. What would it take for him to acknowledge she was a woman who could make her own decisions when it came to intimacy? She chose him.

…

Warwick gently lowered Adeline to the blanket and lay beside her. Wasting no time, he lowered his head and captured her lips in a searing kiss. At the first gentle thrust of his tongue, she made a low sound in the back of her throat that made his heart thump erratically. She clutched his shoulders and urgently kissed him back, their tongues tangling.

He lifted his head to look down at her. Her pink lips were swollen and moist from his kisses. Her blue eyes held his gaze, open and honest with need.

“Adeline, love. We can go inside.”

“No. I don’t want to wait.”

Lord God, how lucky could he get?

Sunlight filtered through the tall oaks, and her skin glimmered. The light was a blessing. He would be able to see every inch of her, and his cock hardened even more with his desire for her. She was his Venus, his Adeline, and he wanted to lift her skirts and thrust deep inside the sweet haven of her voluptuous body.

He was suddenly a starving man wresting for control. He was not a rogue or rake, and she was a gift that must be savored. He’d foolishly believed that once he’d made love to her, his desire would wane. He’d been wrong.

He wanted her with a savage desire. And when she’d first kissed him, he would have dropped to his knees if he hadn’t already been sitting. He reached behind her to unfasten her dress, and she helped slip it from her shoulders. His lips traveled a path down her throat and his hands cupped her lovely breasts, then his lips followed. He tweaked her nipple and she made a sweet sound in her throat and arched her hips in a way that made him wild.

She helped remove his jacket; his waistcoat and the cravat followed. She pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. His heart hammered as her gaze hungrily traveled over his chest, then her hands skimmed a path down and loosened the buttons that fastened the placket of his breeches.

When her fingers brushed the tip of his manhood, he groaned in an onslaught of lust so startling he shook with it. His arousal grew and he raised her skirts and ran his hands up her long, slender legs. His fingers found the slick folds of her womanhood and brushed against the swollen nub.

“Warwick,” she gasped. “That feels incredible.”

He could hardly think, and his body pulsed with frenetic need. He rose above her and replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock. She squirmed beneath him. “That feels even better.”

He slid down the slick entrance to her body and sank a precious inch inside. Mahogany tendrils of her glorious hair spread across the blanket, and her throat arched. He kissed the slender column of her neck, and his lips traveled a path downward until he hovered above her breasts. He drew a nipple deep into his mouth as he thrust fully inside her.

He stilled. Her hot, slick channel gripped him. It took every ounce of effort to be still, to be sure he hadn’t hurt her. “Is there pain?”

“Not this time. Only pleasure.”

Only pleasure. Her words ratcheted his need and the roaring possessiveness in the center of his chest.

Her nails scratched down his back and gripped his buttocks, and his control snapped. With one forward thrust, he was deep inside her. Sweet heaven. She writhed beneath him, just as wild with her own lust.

She had to come soon. He wouldn’t last. She threw back her head and cried out in bliss, her thighs gripping him tight. One more thrust and he was lost, pulling out as his hot seed spurted across her soft belly. He collapsed beside her.