Page 39 of How to Start a Scandal

He pushed the thoughts of the courtesan and his sister from his mind and instead focused on the lovely woman in front of him. The object of his desire for the last decade.

Violet.

He wiped at the bit of wetness on her cheek from a tear that never should have been shed and left his hand cradling the smoothness of her skin.

She gazed up at him with wide blue eyes. ‘Are you going to kiss me now?’

He pulled her closer to him, putting her lush body fully against him.

Inappropriate. Vulgar. Sheer perfection.

‘I am,’ he said in a low tone.

Her breath caught. ‘You aren’t going to warn me off like last time?’

He should.

‘God, no.’ He grasped the blue silk ribbon of her hat and gently pulled the bow free. ‘Last time I did, the offer was taken up by a cat.’ The straw bonnet slipped off Violet’s head and was caught by the ribbons Seth still held. ‘This time there will be no one to intervene.’ He paused. ‘Unless, of course, you do not want this. If so, simply say no.’

He held his breath, waiting for her rejection. It was what he deserved. God knew that. Violet knew that. Hell, even he knew that.

But she didn’t say no. Instead, she stretched up on her toes, closed her eyes and whispered, ‘Yes.’

Violet breathed in the delicious scent of shaving soap and warm male. Her skin practically hummed with heightened sensitivity, aware of the strength with which Seth held her to him. How very powerful his body was, a wall of muscle.

And the incredible hard, heavy bulk of his very obvious arousal.

That she had brought him to such a state made a steady pulse of need thrum between her legs. She wanted to arch her hips against him so that thick length of him pressed between her legs.

Sinful.

She was so sinful. This was wrong.

His mouth lowered to hers, a tender brush at first, then more firmly pressing to hers, his lips warm and surprisingly soft.

Even if this was wrong, it was also so wonderfully right.

A hungry whimper sounded from the back of her throat. Before she could even feel a flash of embarrassment at the sound, he gave a growl and he flexed against her. It was a wild, primitive display of lust that made her tingle in all the right places. She gave a breathy exhale, and his lips parted hers as his tongue brushed into her mouth.

There was a spiciness to him that encouraged her kisses, made her long to give more, take more. She could kiss him for a lifetime and still be unsated.

His hand shifted to the back of her head, cradling her in his palm while he tilted her head back and deepened the kiss. Her pulse escalated to something uncharted and erratic.

She had been kissed before by Lord Fordson. But it had never been like this.

Lord Dalton pulled her lower lip down with his thumb and sucked on it, teasing it slightly with the tip of his tongue. No, never like this.

She moaned, the sound quickly dissipating between their mouths as he kissed her once more. His free hand brushed over her neck, her collarbone, down to skim the sides of her breasts. Her nipples tingled at the nearness of his touch. Without thought, Violet arched her chest towards him. His hand hesitated next to her breast, then his thumb tentatively swept over the swell of it.

She let her head fall back with a moan. His mouth descended on her throat, kissing with hot panting breaths while his hand closed fully around her breast. He uttered a curse against her skin and swept a finger over her taut nipple. Though layers of cloth separated his digit from the little bud, pleasure danced up through her torso and spread through her entire body.

The pulse between her thighs had become an insistent ache, demanding, needing satisfaction. The bulge of his arousal pressed against her stomach and only intensified her longing. She arched against him, flexing her hips upwards so their pelvises met.

He groaned, a low, deep sound that touched her at her core. She lifted her face and kissed him with all the lust thundering through her veins.

He broke off the kiss and rested his brow to hers, his chest rising and falling with his frantic breathing. ‘We must stop.’

Violet’s mind spun, dizzy with desire. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to kiss and touch until the hum of desire throbbing an insistent beat between her legs had been sated. It had been six years since the time with Lord Fordson. She had been ill prepared for that encounter.