Page 70 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

Her arms wound around his neck, her fingers threading through his dark hair, and too soon a swift passion rose within him. His kisses turned savage, and she met him with a fierce need of her own. Silk sizzled against broadcloth where their bodies touched. The heady mix of his success and the thrilling woman in his arms drove him, and he wanted, needed, to possess her.

‘Oh, Devon.’ She sighed against his lips.

His head lowered, and he nipped the pulsing hollow at her throat. When she arched her spine towards the silken heat of his mouth, his lips travelled above the low-cut bodice of her gown. Her passion was as volatile as his.

‘I was worried you would be angry at my interference,’ she said, her voice breathless.

‘Angry? Never. And that’s not what I feel for you right now.’ He was shaking with his need for her.

‘Then let’s not wait.’ She reached for the top button on the flap of his trousers.

He stopped her. ‘Wait. Do you care if the staff hears?’

‘No. Do you?’ she asked.

Lust raged in his groin and his head. His hands spanned her waist. He lifted her up and turned to one of the shelves. With an outstretched palm, he swept the contents off the worktable and set her upon it. Soap cakes rolled across the floor leaving a strong scent of lemongrass.

His mouth hovered over a breast again as he reached behind her, his fingers deftly working the buttons of her dress until the bodice sagged. The tops of her lovely breasts above her chemise tempted him. He deftly worked one free and sucked it into his mouth. Her nails scraped his scalp, and her moan of pleasure fueled his lust.

He raised his head to look into her eyes. ‘You’re a treasure.’

His hands slid up her stockinged legs, reached past her frilly garters. The temperature in the room skyrocketed, and a film of sweat blossomed across her lovely flesh. He felt sweat beading on his own brow and made quick work of her drawers, which he pushed to the floor.

This time, when she reached for the flap of his trousers, he didn’t stop her. His cock sprang free, hard and urgent. He’d never been more aroused. He couldn’t wait much longer and knew he’d soon lose control.

Her green eyes glittered. ‘I need you, Devon. I need you so much.’

Good God. Sweat trickled down his back. He worried he wouldn’t last, and he needed to please her first. His shards of restraint snapped. He needed to be inside her. Now.

Cupping her buttocks, he plunged inside her welcoming body. She was wet and welcoming, and her body encased him like a glove. He stilled and groaned from the pure pleasure. She squeezed her legs about him, drawing him dangerously close to climax.

‘Nora, I’m not going to last.’

She pressed her lips against his throat. ‘Good. Nor am I.’

He began to move. The table shook with each thrust. He heard other items fall to the ground, dried herbs and a sack of flour that landed with a thud and burst at the seam. From the corner of his eye, he saw a white puff go up. Neither paid it any mind. His eyes never left her face, and when she tightened around him, he watched as she tossed back her head, her lips parted, and she peaked. Her nails dug into his backside and his climax was fierce.

He stayed within her as they both gasped for breath. Resting foreheads together, their heartbeats slowed. His lips brushed hers, slow and lovingly. The ferocity of their passion was rare. Finally, he pulled back and adjusted his trousers. Reaching in his coat, he withdrew a handkerchief. Wiping her thighs, he helped her stand and refastened her gown.

‘Nora, that was—’

‘Lovely. Utterly lovely. I believe you were right. The staff must have heard,’ she said.

‘Then they can gossip about the lord and lady of the manor.’ His heart hammered as he looked down at his wife. He feared more than ever before of losing his heart. He brushed her lips. ‘As much as I’d like to stay and hold you, I must meet with the gentlemen at the Commons. Most agree with my bill, but I need to rally even more support.’

‘Go. Do what you do best. But just so you know, I’m out of antiquities.’

He tossed back his head and laughed.

After Ralston departed, Nora ascended the winding staircase, her steps slow and thoughtful. She intended to bathe and change, though her body still sang with the memory of the afternoon’s lovemaking in the storeroom. Her lips curled in a self-satisfied smile. He had been tenderly fierce, a contradiction she found delicious. Afterwards, her limbs had melted against his, and for a blissful time, the world had existed solely within the warmth of his embrace.

Her earlier apprehension, when he had confronted her over her interference with Lady Weber, had been for naught. Rather than be upset with her, he had been proud of her efforts to help. He’d thought her clever.

He’d called her his treasure.

Nora pressed a hand to her heart, which now thudded wildly beneath her bodice. Her feelings for him deepened with each passing day. Every shared glance, each tantalizing touch, and shared intimacy made her long for him. Far from being sated, she found herself craving their time together more fervently. Unable to deny the truth any longer, she realized she was falling in love with him. He was everything she’d hoped for and more—a man who was not intimidated by her intelligence, who did not merely tolerate it, but admired her for it and encouraged her. Ralston was a world apart from Baron Umbridge. And she was grateful beyond measure that she was his wife.

But how did Ralston feel?