Page 83 of Only a Mistress Will Do

She arched into his hands, his long awaited touch so welcome she almost dissolved into pleasure the moment he claimed her. Lord, but he made her want to be wanton.

“Violet. Oh, God.” His hot breath tickled her ear. “I’m sorry, love. I cannot wait.” He urged his knees between her thighs.

“I don’t want you to.” God knew she’d been wanting him long enough.

With his groan sounding blissfully in her ear, he surged forward, filling all of her.

“Ahh.” The fullness of him was almost too exquisite to bear. She slid her arms around him, urging him to thrust harder, deeper. Let him sear her to the bone so she could dissolve into a puddle of sated desire.

He quickened his pace, grunting, straining faster and faster until she cried out, the sudden blinding pleasure taking her unawares.

Wave after wave washed through her. As from a distance she heard Tris cry her name, then he sagged onto her, his warm weight better than any blanket ever made.

They lay panting, her frantic breaths in counterpoint to his. She could lie entwined like this forever, but a twitch of her hips sent him rolling off her. No, he couldn’t go so soon. A frantic grab and she rolled with him, coming to lie with her head upon his chest. His heart hammered in her ear, slowly quieting to a steady thump, thump. Oh, but she couldn’t wait to make it race again.

“Ahhh,” Tris groaned, flinging one arm over his head. “I’m ruined. I’ll never be good for anything again.”

Pretending to pout, she poked her lip out at him. “And here I thought we might try that once or twice more before the night was through. However, if you don’t feel capable…”

He growled, flipping her easily underneath him once more, pinning her arms to the mattress. “Not capable?” He dragged his tongue down her neck to her breast. “I’ll make you incapable of walking down the aisle at you own wedding, vixen.”

What a delicious thought. She giggled.

“You think I jest?” A wolf-like smile on his lips, teeth gleaming, his hair shaggy around his face made him look deliciously dangerous. Slowly, he drew first one, then the other hand up over her head, making her breasts thrust impudently into the cool air. He lowered his lips to the right one, clasped them around her nipple, and sucked.

An explosion of heat rocked her, streaking down to her core where it became a slickness that made her moan. “Oh, do that some more,” she breathed, pushing herself against his mouth. God, she was ready for him even now.

In response he flicked his tongue rapidly back and forth against the sensitive nub.

“Tris! Oh, please—”

A floorboard outside the door creaked.

Tris bounded up off her and stood before the door before she had raised her head. Dear Lord, he was fast. “What is it?” she whispered.

He shook his head, then pressed his ear once more to the oak panel, and grasped the latch. A minute later he relaxed his watchful pose, then hefted the room’s one armchair and placed it against the door, under the latch.

“What on earth are you doing?” Raised up on her elbows, Violet frowned at him.

“What I should have done before we were consumed with desire.” He shook his head. “I was a fool. Anyone could have burst in on us.”

“Why didn’t you simply lock the door?”

“The latch is broken and the landlord hasn’t had it fixed yet.” Tris bent and fished in the heap of his clothing on the floor. When he straightened, the pistol gleamed in his hand. “That’s why I was sitting up in bed with this, waiting to see if anyone would show up.”

“Other than me?” She smiled, although she kept her gaze on the gun.

“Yes, other than you, sweetheart. You were actually a surprise.” He chuckled.

“Then who were you expecting?” Surely not another woman. Cold now he no longer warmed her, she snaked the covers over her naked body.

“Simon Harper.” Tris padded to the fireplace, probed the embers into a blaze, and tossed on another log. His stern profile, lit by the flickering flames, as much as his words made her heart thud painfully in her chest.

“Goodness.” That was probably the last name she expected to hear. “Why would Mr. Harper follow us here? Your duel is set. What reason would he have for seeking you out?” She sat up, pulling the covers over her shoulders. Even the newly blazing wood couldn’t drive out the cold that touched her heart.

“Because he’s a coward who would rather kill me in cold blood in a surprise attack than face me honorably in a fight he will likely lose.” Another chuckle, deeper this time, more dangerous. He climbed into bed, laid the pistol carefully on the table, and slid down next to her, instantly allaying her fears. Once he’d tucked the covers around her and settled her head again on his shoulder, he asked, “Did you wonder at Downing’s horror at the mention of the Marquess of Dalbury?”

“I scarcely realized I was standing in the library after that attack and the whirl of events. But I remember thinking it odd he seemed frightened of the marquess.” She ran her fingers through the mat of dark hair on his chest, soothed by the touch of him, by the warmth of the crackling fire. Nothing could come between them now.