Page 51 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

Ludo chuckled and settled to his work, licking and teasing until she was squirming, and he was forced to hold her still.

“Oh, it was all true,” she murmured, though now she held him in place, her beautiful skin flushed with pleasure. “You are a bad, bad man. Dreadful. Utterly wicked….”

“Yes, love, and all yours now,” he murmured before looking up at her, dazed with his good fortune.

“All mine?” she repeated, as if she had doubted it.

Ludo frowned and got to his feet. “I meant what I said, love. Forsaking all others.”

A slow smile curved over her mouth and she flung herself at him, holding him tightly. Ludo savoured the moment, happy and a little bewildered that she had not expected at least that much from him. What a bad bargain she had been willing to strike. He could not comprehend why she would take such a chance, for she was not so foolish as to be dazzled by a pretty face alone. Well, whatever her reasons, he would do his best, in all things, which reminded him….

He reached down and swept her up, laughing at the incredulity in her eyes as he lifted her with ease.

“Goodness, you’re strong.”

Ludo snorted. “You’re a featherweight, love.”

She made an incredulous sound. “Oh, what a plumper. I certainly am not anything of the sort.”

He tsked with impatience and set her down carefully on the bed, leaning over her. “I don’t know what kind of maggoty ideas you have in that head of yours. Though I suppose I ought to expect such nonsense from someone hen-witted enough to marry me, of all people, but let us dispense with this nonsense once and for all.”

“What nonsense?” she said, eyeing him dubiously as he made his voice stern.

“The idiotic notion you have about being too heavy, too big, too fat, or whatever preposterous ideas you have about yourself.”

Her dark brows drew together, and she shook her head. “I know you’re being kind, Ludo.”

“Damnation!” he said, throwing his hands up. “I’m not being kind, you little widgeon. I mean… just look at you….” He did just that, his breath catching as his gaze travelled over her body, laid out for him on his bed, their bed. “You’re splendid, gorgeous, a bloody goddess, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

Bunty stared up at him, astonished by the obvious desire in his eyes. He really meant it. He did not think her too tall, too plump, too… everything. Though she had never done so before, Bunty questioned why she thought she was. Well, because she’d been told so. Her mother was always imploring her to lose weight and father always looked disapproving if she ate a dessert. She’d been teased as a girl by those who were supposed to be her friends and she’d heard too many disparaging comments from men not to take them to heart, and yet….

And yet Ludo, this big, glorious man, was looking at her as if she were the last cake in the world, and he was starving.

It was rather… invigorating.

He’d said she was splendid, gorgeous, a bloody goddess!

For the first time in her life, Bunty rather thought she felt like one too.

He’d also said he would prove it to her. She wondered just how he intended to do that, but then she realised he was taking off his clothes, and thought of any kind was suspended.

He made rather a performance of it for her, sliding off his cravat and tossing it to her with a wink, before easing out of his coat. Slowly, he unbuttoned his waistcoat, his eyes never leaving hers, that heated and intense gaze making her insides quiver with anticipation. Once he cast it aside, he tugged the shirt from his breeches before pulling it over his head in one smooth movement.

Bunty’s mouth went dry.

If she was splendid, he was… magnificent.

Big and broad, his shoulders and arms were impressive enough, and now she saw how he’d lifted her as though she’d been made of spun sugar. His chest, though…. Words failed her, though her fingers itched to touch him, to run her fingers through the fleece of coarse hair on his chest and touch the thick quilting of muscle beneath. The desire to rub herself against him like a cat was almost overwhelming, but then she realised he’d discarded his boots and stockings during her reverie, and his fingers had moved to unbutton the fall of his breeches. Bunty was riveted to the spot, filled with curiosity. She had seen the naked male form before, in sculpture at any rate. Not every figure had a strategically placed fig leaf, though she had always been a little underwhelmed by what she’d seen and wondered how that appendage had done the job required of it. All such questions were firmly—and appropriately—put to bed as Ludo pushed his breeches and small clothes to the floor, and kicked them to one side.

“Goodness,” she squeaked.

Ludo smirked at her, and she covered her mouth with her hand as a giggle escaped.

He tilted his head to one side, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you laughing at me?” he demanded with mock outrage.

“N-No.”