He caught her chin in his free hand and forced her mouth to his. He wanted to be all those things for her. So badly. He glided his thumb over her faster. She trembled against him, her core tightening on his fingers, and as soft as her luscious curves were, her muscles tensed against him. He gave her more, more pressure, more skimming over where her pleasure centered. And that was all it took. Her body shuddered against his, and she clamped down on his fingers. She arched against him, sobs of pleasure fleeing her parted lips. And he stole every last one of those cries. God, she was stunning when she came.
He trailed kisses along her jaw and slowly let his fingers slide from her. A slide that was pure torture. His cock throbbed like the devil. His ballocks drawn tight. He ached. Needed. To be inside his wife. She would just have to settle for another bout of bland lovemaking. Blancmange flavored. Because he couldn’t wait until he’d studied more, until he had more information.
And apparently his wife couldn’t wait either. Georgiana spun in his arms and bent over, proffering her bare arse for him. His hands instantly went to her pale soft flesh, hot, smooth—he squeezed her arse—plush. A choked sound came from him. God, he loved her curves.
She fit perfectly with him, her small, luscious body against his lean, tall one. That didn’t actually make any sense given their forms were opposite in nearly every way. But he wasn’t so sure it needed to make sense.
They fit. That was all there was to it.
She backed into him, ground against him, her mewls desperate.
Micetta mia.
Good Lord, he was going to fuck his wife on his desk, wasn’t he? And the door was wide open. “The d-door,” he managed.
“Leave it,” she breathed.
His heart hammered in his chest, and he stared at the entry to his study. The thrill, the appeal of getting caught, spurring adrenaline to surge through him, landing straight in his cock. Perhaps not so bland a bedding, then. Not the most flavorful of dishes. But it was a far cry from blancmange. He’d work his way up to Charlotte Russe.
He pushed her thighs wide and slid his cock between her legs. God, she was scorching, her flesh soaked and swollen from her release. He notched himself at her entrance, his body screaming to drive home.
And then his wife panted out two words that made the heat in his veins freeze over.
“Spank me.”
He didn’t move. He wasn’t sure he even drew breath.
She wiggled against him. “Please, Fitz.”
But he couldn’t. Panic was rolling through him like a boulder down a mountain, picking up speed and spinning out of control. His mind flashed back to what he had just read. How hard did he hit her? Was he supposed to do it a certain way? In a certain place? Was it like the choking? The woman, Fanny, hadbled. He needed more instruction. He needed more time.
So he did what Fitz did best.
“If you’ll excuse me. I forgot about a prior obligation.”
And he fled.
33
Georgiana
Thisweekwasnotgoing how Georgiana had hoped it would. She most certainly hadn’t expected it to include herself abandoned, bent bare-arsed over her husband’s desk.
If you’ll excuse me. I forgot about a prior obligation.
She shook her head as she sifted through the correspondence at the escritoire in her bedchamber. Un-bloody-believable. Who said such a thing when their cock was pressed against one’s quim?
Georgiana dropped her head to her desk with athud.She had been near fanatic when he’d kissed her back, when he’d kissed her backwith need. Need for her. Want for her. She so desperately wanted him to want her. To love her.
She froze. Oh, God. Was that what this overwhelming feeling was? The one where her heart was fit to explode at any moment. Where her entire body warmed like she was basking in sunshine even though it was the dead of winter. Where a simple smile, a huff of laughter, a soft amber gaze, was all it took for an ordinary day to turn into the best day of her life.
Her hand went to her stomach.Stop!She sat up and scowled down at her belly. The butterflies or grasshoppers or frogs or whatever they were would not stop hopping around in there. Bloody hell. She’d fallen in love with her husband. And she had no idea where she stood with him.
After their almost amazing encounter ended in disaster, she had barely seen him. He had taken a dinner tray in his room and—shocking—hadn’t visited her chambers that night.
So, ever the strong, resilient woman, Georgiana had attempted to visit him instead. Her eyes closed on a groan. That had been a resounding failure.
Georgiana! Here. Something, isn’t it? Surprise.He had laughed nervously and wiped the back of his hand over his brow.I m-mean. Live here. Of course. Why wouldn’t you? Business calls.Must get to it back. Burning the midnight oil.And then he promptly shut the door in her face.
