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“Brace your hands against the wall.”
She complied. He snaked a hand below her stomach and pinched her clitoris between his fingers.
“Oh!” Her entire body shook.
He withdrew slowly, so only the head of his cock nudged her entrance, and then plunged inside her again with such piercing depth and strength, she was jerked to the tip of her toes. “Rhys!” she screamed at the shockingly erotic impact of his entrance.
He pressed down on her clitoris, his fingers dragging over her sensitive nub, over and over, in tandem to the quick, deep plunges inside her slick core. Sensation gradually became a raw, sweet agony. She needed…she craved, and a wildness rose inside the depths of her being. “More!” the words exploded, shocking her with their unexpectedness though they came from her.
A low laugh, heated and sensual, pulsed from him. Rhys’s hands tightened on her hips, and his hips snapped into her deep and hard. She sobbed at the sharp bite of pleasure-pain, her voice fractured with need. He set up a raw, sensual rhythm. In and out he stroked, alternating hard and gently, his fingers never easing up on the tormenting pleasure of flicking, sometimes running teasingly, other times pressing against her clitoris.
His breath fanned her ear. “Do you remember what I said I wanted tonight?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Tell me.” His voice was a dark rumble, filled with a carnal promise she couldn’t begin to interpret.
“You would fu…” She wetted her lips, blushing. “You would fuck me tonight.”
A groan of approval hummed from him at her crudity. One of his hands snaked around her waist to anchor her tightly to him.
“That fucking starts now,” he murmured roughly. His voice was almost a physical caress as it stroked over her senses.
Then his hips took up a pounding rhythm as he stroked into her over and over with increasing depth and force. Georgiana was unprepared for the wild way he started to love her. She jerked onto the tips of her toes, caught between wanting to escape his rough, piercing thrusts and needing him to never stop.
“That’s it,” he growled in carnal approval. “Take all of me, just like that.” He drove inside her even harder, while rubbing her clitoris, the friction almost unbearable.
Somewhere in the unknown recesses of her being, a wanton heat ignited, flared upward, and burned her with ecstasy. Their untamed loving stripped her of any modesty she’d once possessed. “More, Rhys!”
He complied. Pleasure and erotic pain combined and melded until she did not know where one ended and the other began. Yet she whimpered and pushed against him, her hips rolling, moans spilling from her. Sensations peaked in her belly, and Georgiana trembled at the heat building inside. She lost her breath, lost her sanity. Her climax swelled and grew inside until it expanded and burst forth in white-hot bliss, cascading delight through her body.
With a harsh groan, he tightened his hands and emptied his release inside her still-shivering body. They stayed together, their breathing heavy as they regained their equilibrium. The embers in the fireplace burned low, and a slight chill danced across her body. He eased from her gently. She stood bereft of words, embarrassed at the carnal creature she’d just been. Oh God, she’d begged him to be rougher.
Her entire body flushed as he tenderly cleaned her with a handkerchief. She dreaded facing him and remained still with her hands braced against the wall. He slowly pulled the length of her gown down her quivering thighs.
She took a bracing breath, then turned around. “I…I must go.”
His eyes searched her face. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
He stared down at her for long, silent moments. “Were you pleased?”
“Absurdly so,” she said flatly, wanting to hide from the need building inside her for this man.
His expression filled with lust and tender emotion. “Don’t go cold. I know how unsettling this all seems. I feel it, too,” he said softly.
Georgiana pulled back as though she’d been physically struck, then she froze. She had been retreating, embarrassed with her wantonness. Ladies did not wail their lover’s name and beg for more. And she had done just that, the second time, and once again she was preparing to flee from the jumble of emotions twisting through her.
“You are blushing,” he said gently, brushing a tendril damp with sweat behind her ear.
She placed a finger against his mouth. “I don’t feel cold with you,” she admitted, hating the very idea of him believing it to be so. “It’s the opposite. You make me crave…so much more than a sexual liaison.”
He smiled and pulled her to him, pressing a kiss to her brow. “Don’t run. Stay with me, for a few more hours.”
She allowed him to simply hold her for several moments until her racing heart quieted and she no longer felt the chaotic cravings stirring in her soul.
“Stay with me?” he murmured when she stirred.
“Yes.”
His lips curved into a smile loaded with sensual challenge. “The night is young,” he drawled. “There are many more pleasures to indulge in.”
She smiled. “I’m the new person here…what delights are there to pander to?”
“I find that I want to take you out onto the dance floor, duchess, and dance the night away.”
“Dance?” she parroted.
“Tonight, we dance, tomorrow…come what may tomorrow.”
“Show me.”
Warmth glowed in the depths of his eyes. He tugged her out of the private room, down the stairs into the crush of rowdy dancers. They entered the life of the party and wound through the crowd. Champagne flowed, laughter pulsed and rode the air. Couples danced, some made love or what approximated it, a
nd others just laughed with their heads thrown back, enjoying the thrill of the night before seeking somewhere secluded to indulge in pleasures. A shriek came from a woman to their left, and the hum of conversation seemed to rise, the music seemed to pulse louder, bodies gyrating faster.
A buxom and beautiful lady squealed Rhys’s name and flung herself at him. He released Georgiana’s hand to catch her, and instead of pushing her aside, they launched into a dance, one charged with tension but that seemed like glorious fun. After several shouts of raucous cheer, several more couples joined them.
A swift tug of envy caught her off guard. She wanted to be the one in his arms, dancing…dancing to whatever reel had them spinning so madly around each other and with such glorious abandon. Who was this man that laughed and danced with such passion?
The same one that made me lose a part of my soul just moments ago…
She watched him, a wide smile playing on her lips, her feet tapping to the melodious tune piping in the air.
“Who are you?” a rough voice, tinged with the lyrical accent of the Irish, asked.
She turned her head left, amazed at the broad shoulders of the man beside her. Riordan O’Malley. Dark-green eyes ensnared her, and instinctively she recognized she faced a man used to being obeyed. Power and danger fairly oozed from him, but she only smiled.
“That is not your business,” she drawled with all her inbred aristocratic haughtiness.
Dark eyebrows winged upward. “You’re a nob,” he sneered. “What the fuck is Rhys doing with a fancy bit of quality like you?”
“Is your vulgarity supposed to mortify me, Mr. O’Malley?” she said, taking pleasure in the knowledge of his identity. “You could only rattle me if you acted in a gentlemanlike manner, I expected uncouthness.”
A cool warning glowed in his gaze, though his lips twitched. “Be careful, you are in my world.”
She drew herself up. “In my world, a simple word from me can see your establishment closed and ordinances levied against you. You are an insect, and one I will squash if you dare to threaten me again when you have no cause but your boorish attitude and prejudices.”
