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Gone with the Rake

Page 68

by Sadie Bosque

He moved his hand to her throat and teased the sensitive spot where her pulse danced against her skin. Then he traced her jaw, her lips that tingled under his touch. He pressed his thumb into her mouth, and Lydia sucked on his tip.

Art’s eyes darkened as he licked his lips. He dropped his hand and pressed his wet thumb against the swollen nub at the top of her sex. As he started circling it, Lydia’s hips moved wilder and wilder with every swirl.

Her moans grew louder as she felt the tension building within her, ready to explode at any moment.

“Promise me,” Art whispered between gasps. “Promise you’ll stay with me.”

Lydia couldn’t hold off any longer. She couldn’t make that promise, but right now, in this moment of ecstasy, she was willing to say anything just to fall over the edge.

“I promise,” she gasped out breathlessly.

A predatory grin on his lips, Art slid his thumb lower, hitting just the right spot that made Lydia cry out. The entire world stopped spinning for a long moment. It was only her and him and this pleasure between them.

Her fingers curled into his flesh, as her entire body tensed and… relaxed just as fireworks exploded inside her mind.

Art’s primal growl echoed throughout the room as he released himself inside of her.

Lydia collapsed on top of him, both of them panting, sweat trickling down their bodies.

Art’s fingers tangled in her hair as he held her close.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear.

Wakefield Manor

Ten Years Ago…

The library door felt impossibly heavy as Lily pushed it open, her hands clammy against the polished wood.

The room was quiet save for the gentle crackling of the fire. Thorn sat in the wingback chair, his back to the fire, his face swallowed up by the shadows. He didn’t look up when she entered, though she knew he must have heard her.

She took a few steps, stopping just before reaching the carpet, not daring to cross the imaginary threshold.

“What did he say to you last night?” Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears—too high, too breathless. “I didn’t dare come out of my room after he caught us. And today I’ve been walking on eggshells the entire day.” She twisted her hands in her skirt, hating how they trembled. “I hoped to talk to you, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Thorn finally looked up, and the hollow look in his eyes made her stomach clench. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes, and his usually immaculate hair was disheveled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it all day.

“I know,” he said, his voice flat. “I needed to think.”

A cold dread washed over her. “About what?”

“Lily…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the armrests. “Now that Father found out, it’s… Things will have to change.”

Lily grew very still, afraid to even take a breath. “Change how?”

“We need to stop seeing each other.”

The words fell between them like an anvil. Lily’s mouth went dry. She tried to swallow, the sound embarrassingly loud in the silent library. “For how long?”

His gaze dropped to his feet. The silence stretched between them, each second another tiny nick in her heart.

“That’s it, then?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

He stood sharply. “No, it’s not. I love you, you know that. But…” His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

She stepped forward. “But what?”

“Father is…” Thorn paced to the window, looking out into the darkness. “He is talking to some men in Parliament. He wants to get me into diplomatic work… to send me off to the Iberian Peninsula or wherever else if the war is not over by the time I finish Cambridge.”