Page 35 of Unbound Duchess

“You mean the kiss?” she teased, “or being myself?”

Laurence’s smile was wicked, but instead of frightening her as Benedict’s had, it caused that warmth in her lower belly to ebb and grow hotter.

“Would you like to be kissed again?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as his gaze dropped once more to her lips. “This time by your husband?”

Ellen nodded, not even sparing a second to give the decision any thought. The last time he’d kissed he’d rendered her mind utterly blank, and she needed that now after everything that had happened. Before what was about to come. She wanted to feel nothing but that addictive kiss she’d been clinging to in her dreams.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Thank God.”

The words slipped out of Laurence’s mouth before he could think to stop them. He had craved that kiss ever since it stopped. Craved it even more when he realized who it had come from nearly two weeks ago. Ellen’s answer was a breathy sigh as she leaned toward him. He slid his hand from her cheek to the nape of her neck, drawing her closer.

Need tunneled through his groin as he finally pressed his lips to hers again, and all his stress and sadness evaporated in that single kiss. Her lips were exactly as he remembered them—plump and buttery soft. This time she did not have the bite of whisky in her kiss, but something sweeter, as if she’d helped herself to a lemon cake before falling asleep. He was not sure which he liked more.

Laurence deepened the kiss, letting his tongue skim and tease her bottom lip until she moaned against his mouth and parted her lips wider for him. That subtle act of submission undid him, and before he could think twice, he was gripping her hips and pulling her into his lap. Her answering gasp of surprise only spurred him on, and he held her tightly; one hand was on her waist, the other on the nape of her neck as he slid his tongue between her lips and claimed her mouth.

Pleasure slid and dipped, pooled, and tightened as their lips and tongue parted and came together in a slow rhythm of their own creation.

He had not stopped thinking of their kiss. Not through his searching. Not through the auction or meeting the beaten servants Ellen had pleaded with him to save. It was always there, playing in the back of his mind and reminding him how much he wanted her even if he did not—should not— want to.

“I thought of you.”

Her whispered confession between kisses only added to his growing need.

“I thought of your kiss in my darkest moments,” she whispered as he feathered kisses over her bruised jaw and down the slim column of her throat. “It was the only thing that gave me peace.”

A tortured sound rose from Laurence’s throat. He hated that that was all she had to cling to, but he loved that he was responsible for such a memory.

“I will bring you peace,” he whispered as he traced his nose back up the column of her throat and placed a warm kiss on her lips. “I swear it.”

Ellen whimpered as she sank into him for another deep kiss that unraveled every hard piece of mental wire he’d wrapped around himself to keep himself from falling apart.

“Perhaps we could bring one another peace,” she murmured over his lips, then kissed him again, bolder this time. “Perhaps…”

Her words faded as he captured her lips, taking the control he loved.

Perhaps. Perhaps.

Laurence was not sure how long they stayed on the settee. Minutes and hours became indistinguishable as they allowed themselves to get lost in one another’s kiss. He did not try to remove her robe, and she did not yank at his shirt or touch lower than the rigid muscles of his chest. It was a silent agreement that, in that moment, their kiss was more than enough.

It was only when a log on the fire exploded with a thunderous pop, and the sound of sizzling embers flew through the air, that they finally pulled away from each other, both panting, dazed, and breathless. Beneath his trousers, his manhood ached as it stood at rodlike attention. At some point—he couldn’t fathom when—Ellen had begun moving her hips in time with every stroke of his tongue against hers, and it had teased him into a hard, dripping mess that ached to be relieved.

Even so, he did not look down at himself. Instead, he caressed the nape of Ellen’s neck as he stared up into her dazed, dilated blue eyes. Took in her pink, shining lips that were slick from his kisses and bruised from his need. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

“I—”

Even that simple word took effort to form; his voice was raw from desire.

“You?” She whispered, and he nearly groaned when he heard that same desire coating her voice.

He bowed his head, letting his forehead rest against her collarbone as he tried to gather what little control he had left. He drew in a ragged breath as he held onto her, willing himself to gather himself, but nearly lost it all again as her gentle fingertips grazed through his hair and over his scalp, sending little jolts of relaxation-steeped pleasure through him.

“We should stop,” he forced himself to say.

He felt her growing still in his lap. Immediately he hated himself for it.

“Not that I want to,” he quickly assured her as he lifted his head and met her questioning gaze.