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She gasped. “You libertine!”
Something elusive pooled into the gray depth of his eyes. “Perhaps you are not as safe as you believe.”
Was there a possessive undercurrent in his voice? “I am. Nicolas’s birth was difficult. The doctor warned I wouldn’t be able to become with child again, but Hardcastle desired a second child. After months of trying…he stopped coming to my bed.”
Her husband hadn’t been to her bed for over a year before he died.
“As I said, a bloody fool.”
She formed a fist and gently punched Rhys in his hardened stomach. He chuckled before taking her lips in a kiss that went on endlessly. There was a primal delight in being held so firmly in his arms. Georgiana was acutely aware of the strength in him, and she allowed her fingers to coast over the sleek, powerful muscles of his chest.
There was something in his eyes that wasn’t purely lust. A tenderness that brought a lump to her throat. “I like you so much,” she murmured.
“I like you, too, duchess,” he said, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something else she was unable to identify.
The sudden, staggering desire to never be released by Rhys left her frightened. Confused and suddenly nervous, she withdrew, tugging the sheets to her and wrapping them around her body. “I must go.”
“No.”
“Mr. Tremayne—”
He arched a cool brow. “Are we still being formal…Georgiana?”
She stared at him mutely.
“You referring to me as Mr. Tremayne will not change the fact you have just been taking your pleasure on my cock.”
She gasped. “You’re crude.”
He crawled over her, his body powerful and intimidating, yet so frightfully appealing. She slid backward on the bed, but he followed, climbing over her, careful to keep his weight on his elbows.
“What I should have said was that your sweet, tight sheath rocked onto my cock deep, hard, and rough, and you loved every second of it, duchess, even when it seemed too much.” His growl was low and rich, and arousal stabbed to the heart of her.
“Do not confuse me with one of your gentleman suitors,” he warned softly. “There will be no shame between us while we are lovers. At times, I will place you on your knees and elbows and fuck you hard, duchess, and there are times I’ll love you so slowly, so tenderly, I’ll burn us both alive from the wanting. There is nothing crude about what we do.” His fingers stroked her thighs soothingly, a stark contrast to the cruel sensuality that curved his lips.
An ache grew in her chest and tightened until it restricted her breathing. Lovers… “This…this was one night,” she whispered.
He froze, and her heart hitched as icy gleams of his silver-blue eyes pierced her. He pushed from her without speaking and strolled to the windows overlooking the lake. He was so splendidly formed and uncaring of his nakedness, her mouth dried.
She sat in the center of the bed, uncertain of why she waited.
“And if I want more than one night?” he asked softly without facing her.
Her breath hitched. Didn’t he realize how impossible it was for them to be together? To even have him now at Meadowbrook Park was courting scandal. “It is not about what you want, Rhys. I will still be directed by my own desires.”
Then he faced her, and her cheeks heated to see his manhood had once again hardened.
“One night, you say.”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“Come here.”
She contemplated him for several moments then pushed from the bed, the sheet wrapped tightly around her and sauntered to him. His large hands cupped her cheek, an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes.
“Are you sore?”
She flushed as the flesh between her legs throbbed. “A bit.”
His thumb dragged softly across her tender bottom lip. “If this is to be our only time together, I’m not done with you yet. There are certain things I’ll require of you for the night.”
She arched a brow, resenting the pulse of anticipation stirring in her blood. “Such as?”
“These lips.” His thumb slipped into the recess of her mouth. “I’ll be wanting them wrapped around my cock, sucking and pleasuring me.” Rhys’s gaze was direct, sensually calculating, and confident. “I’ll want you above me, riding my tongue. I’m going to make love to you, then fuck you, then make love to you again.”
Georgiana trembled, and a blush rose in her cheeks.
“If you cannot handle that, I’ll leave now, and I’ll treasure our time tonight together until breath leaves my body.”
She wetted her lips. “And if I can manage?”
“Are you saying you can?”
“Yes.” This could be the only night she would let down her guard with this man.
His eyes darkened, and his handsome face became etched with stark need. “On your knees.”
The command burned through her, and an unbidden whimper spilled from her. Lord help her, she obeyed, sinking to her knees and releasing the sheet so it fell from her body but was anchored by her hips.
“Touch me, my duchess.”
My duchess… He didn’t need to ask twice. She wrapped her fingers around his jutting length. “You’re so hard…and so thick,” she murmured, amazed she’d been a wife but had never had the occasion to admire the male form so boldly and unashamedly.
“Suck me in, sweetheart,” his voice was dark and rough, and it spiked her hunger.
Leaning forward, she swirled her tongue around the flared mushroom head of his cock, feeling the bunch and clench of his thighs beneath her fingers. His hand tightened in her hair, pulling at the strands and sending a tingling heat through her scalp. Georgiana moaned around his taste, which was dark, heady, and sultry, like the rain. She slid her tongue delicately over the throbbing head, and his guttural groan filled her with pleasure. A deep yearning coiled inside of her to bind him with the same pleasure he had enslaved her with.
He dragged her up his body and kissed her mouth. He was too gentle…her eyes burned with unshed tears. His lips th
en brushed the tip of her ears. “Do you feel cravings pulsing through your body for my touch?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“One night will never be enough. Be my mistress.”
The breath strangled in her throat. His mistress?
“I know we are to never be anything else, duchess, but for now…be my lover…my friend. Have an affair with me.”
His voice was full of unfathomable promise and a sweet, sharp pain throbbed in her chest. She had never been her duke’s friend or his lover. They had benefited each other’s position in society, and they’d had amiable conversation occasionally. Their intimacy had been founded on respect, but he had never been her confidant, or her his, nor had they made each other burn with passion.
Yes, the cold, empty, frustrated heart of her cried silently. Instead of answering, she pushed him, understanding that when he moved back, it wasn’t from her strength. He allowed her to direct him until he sank onto the sofa. Then she once again lowered herself to her knees in front of him. “I want…let me please you.”
A powerful heat flared in his eyes, and she took him, allowing their world to once again catch fire, unable to answer the burning demand in his eyes.
…
Rhys had envisioned Georgiana’s delightfully full lips wrapped around him, taking him with the innocent hunger he could see blazing in her blue orbs. She licked and sucked his cock beautifully, a bewildering mix of wantonness and innocence. He thrust slowly and deeply into her mouth, loving the sounds she made—soft purrs of pleasure. As her mouth loved him, Rhys felt as if he was going mad from the hunger clawing through his body. His head fell back, and a guttural groan slipped from him as she licked from his balls to the tip of his cock. He could wait no longer to be inside her. Gripping her long tresses, he pulled her up with sensual intent.
He tugged her onto his lap so that she straddled him and split her legs wide across his thighs. Fisting his cock in one hand, he positioned himself at her entrance. Rhys palmed her delightfully rounded ass in his hand and drew her onto his length with excruciating slowness.
