Page 77 of How Not to Marry a Duke

His eyebrows drew together. “You’re right, dammit. We need to convince her.”

“She said we should find stolen moments to kiss.”

“Did she?”

“And that other young ladies find ways to entice prospective gentlemen to act.” Adeline licked her lips and his gaze immediately lowered to her mouth.

“By act I assume she means to propose marriage?”

“I’m certain of it.”

“It wouldn’t shock me.” He released her. “Still, I’ll go and—”

“No!” She held up a hand. Her initial panic from Lady Heywood’s machinations veered into a heightened awareness of the virile man standing before her. Lady Heywood may have gone about it badly, but if she had even a sliver of doubt, then they needed to douse all her suspicions once and for all.

Shockingly, the thought didn’t frighten her. Rather, a traitorous anticipation snaked through her body as she looked up at him. “Perhaps we should oblige her.” Heart pounding, she walked to the entry, shut the door, then leaned against the wood and faced him. Their gazes met, sizzling hot awareness tingling down her spine.

“Perhaps we should.” His green eyes were captivating.

She stepped away from the closed door. Then they met halfway, and she was in his strong arms. He swooped down to capture her lips. She was just as eager, just as greedy to kiss him. Openmouthed, their tongues tangled. The need that had been building between them for days combusted. He kissed her like a man consumed, and her fingers dug into his shoulders, then burrowed into his hair. His strong arms lifted her up and pressed her against him. Her soft curves molded to every hard angle of his body. Her breasts swelled and her corset grew even tighter as she dragged in a breath.

He was not satisfied for long, and soon hot kisses traveled down her throat to the swells of her breasts above the corset. “You are a sight for sore eyes. I never stood a chance walking into this room, did I?” His breath was a rasp against her skin.

“Do you want a chance?” She tilted her head to the side to give him better access. Her nipples hardened beneath silk from his hot breath.

“Not right now, no. Thank God you shut that door.” He dipped a finger inside the corset and dragged a thumb across a taut nipple. Then he lifted the entire breast out and sucked it full into his hot mouth. Her limbs turned weak, and she sagged against him. The slick rasp of his tongue warmed a secret, aching place between her thighs. She dug her fingers into his hair and cradled him against her breasts.

He moaned. Or was that her? “Oh my, Warwick.”

“Does it feel good?”

She clung to him, unable to think. If it felt this good to have his mouth on her breasts, what would it feel like to have him touch her elsewhere? “Goodness, I can’t breathe. My corset is too tight.”

“Take the blasted thing off.” His fingers were at her back in a flash, and he nearly ripped the laces until she was free of the corset and it fell to the carpet. Her silk chemise was a wispy barrier between them. Her breasts swelled and her nipples strained against the sheer fabric.

“Is that better?”

“A bit.” She was still breathless. She wanted more. More kissing. More touching. And definitely more of him. Her hands landed on his waistcoat. He dressed as a gentleman in town—waistcoat, cravat, and jacket—and she longed for the simplicity of the country where he’d often dress only in a shirt and trousers. She fidgeted with the waistcoat’s buttons. His hands landed over hers, halting her.

“I want to see you,” she protested.

“It’s not wise. This wasn’t supposed to happen again. I’m trying to remember our agreement.” His breathing was harsh. Despite his words, he held her tight, and his green eyes blazed with desire as he watched her.

“I remember it, too, but we have to convince everyone.”

“I thought we were doing that.”

“Wise has nothing to do with how I’m aching right now.”

His lips were a whisper away from hers. “Good God. You are everything a man could desire and more.”

He picked her up, cupped her buttocks, and pressed her softness against his erection. A shiver of excitement pulsed in her veins. Taking two steps he lay her on the mattress and climbed on top of her. Her lids slid open. He was a towering hulk of dominant, virile male. She should be frightened. Instead, she wanted him with an intensity that was startling.

“I want to study you. Every inch of your flesh.”

“Like one of your experiments?”

“No. Never like that. I want to savor you.”