Page 119 of A Portrait of Love

“That is true,” she admitted, her color high, for some reason.

“As to women having rights over their own person, I couldn’t agree more. Lots of men are cruel brutes who use their superior strength against women—and children. And once they are married, they may do so with impunity.” His lips curled in distaste. “There should be protections in place.”

The smile she gave him was almost blinding.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s just—well, you are so enlightened.”

Simon sputtered.

“I don’t mean I thought you were brutish, I just thought you would support the status quo.”

“Not when the status quo is unjust.”

“I am very pleased to hear that, Simon.”

The look she gave him arrowed straight to his cock and the sound of his name on her lips fed intensely masculine thoughts that she probably would not be so approving of.

Simon couldn’t wait until dinner was over.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Honey had just dismissed Nora, her maid, and finished brushing her hair when there was a brief knock and then Simon entered.

It had only been five nights since she’d last seen him in his robe, but it felt like a year. As ever, he wore nothing beneath it, the satin brocade obscenely tented by his erection.

Without a word, he strode toward her and caught her up in his arms, his mouth crushing hers.

A loud groan filled her ears and she realized that it had come from her.

He kissed her with lips, tongue, and teeth, grazing and nipping and sucking. “God, I missed you so much, Honey,” he muttered gruffly as he lightly bit her earlobe and then kissed it. “Did you miss me?”

She wanted to say something sophisticated and clever, but her wits were already scrambled. “You know I did,” she whispered as he nudged her head back and then trailed cruel nips and soothing kisses down her exposed throat.

“I think it’s time we resume our evening lessons, don’t you?” he said against the sensitive skin at the base of her throat—right before he sucked in a mouthful of tender flesh and worried it with his lips and teeth.

Honey squirmed at the insistent throbbing deep in her sex. What was wrong with her that she liked his rough touches so?

“You marked me,” she said in a dreamy voice.

It wasn’t a question, but he chuckled and nodded. “Guilty.” A big warm hand slid down her belly, toward her damp curls, making her aware that he’d unbuttoned the front of her nightgown without Honey even noticing.

He parted her lower lips, the pad of his finger calloused but gentle.

“Ah, Honey—how I love the feel of these prim little lips of yours.”

Her face heated, more at his lewd, suggestive words than the pleasurable stroking.

His other hand slid down her neck, not stopping until he held one of her breasts. He groaned. “What a delicious little bud.” He pinched her nipple hard enough to make her bite her lip and whimper. “Don’t hold anything in, love,” he chided with a growl. “I want all your noises. His finger stroked between her swollen folds. “So wet,” he praised in a breathy, harsh voice, caressing from her entrance to the tight bundle of nerves but never actually touching her needy core.

Honey tilted her hips to lure him closer.

He laughed, the sensual sound sending a shiver down her spine. “Such a greedy cunt,” he whispered.

She gasped, her body stiffening in shock. That was a word she’d only read one time—in a book she’d sneaked out of her father’s private library.

“Does that word shock you? Cunt,” he murmured.