Page 61 of The Marquess of Secrets

Without thinking, she threw herself against Harrison, curling her arms about his neck.

“Thank you for everything.”

Surprised, he laid the gown on the bed and slipped his arms about her waist. The warmth and strength of him made Lydia weak in the knees. His enticing scent, and—there. No hiding his arousal as he rolled his hips, allowing her to feel the hardness.

“All you have to do is put your arms around me, and I am lost. An immediate and robust reaction. Only you, Lydia. No other women. Ever. Only—you.”

She gazed up at him, completely lost at the emotions reflecting in his lovely eyes. “What have I done to deserve you?”

“You are real. You own up to your mistakes, which has given me the courage to own up to my own. You’re beautiful, but beyond that, you speak to my heart. We’re a perfect fit in all ways. And more.”

More? She blinked, almost afraid to ask what he meant, but before she could, he captured her lips with his.

Lydia met his kiss, their tongues tangling, and Harrison’s hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushing her hard nipple. She gasped, then moaned softly at the rush of passion moving through her.

Huntsford had not killed such feelings. She could have a future, whatever it may be, with this glorious man.

Harrison growled, sending a thrill along her spine. Turning her about, he walked her to the wall, then reached under her skirt, laying her leg against his hip.

Yes. There.

His erection lay at her feminine core. Hot kisses trailed across her cheek and down her neck as he ground against her.

“I yearn to touch you. To have you come apart in my arms,” Harrison whispered fiercely. “Slip my fingers through your folds, bring you to completion.”

Would it assist in erasing the stain of Huntsford? What if they did only this and nothing else. Would he think her a wanton? This glorious man did so much already to obliterate some of the damage wrought by Huntsford. But more importantly, above all doubts, she yearned to have Harrison touch her.

It had been so long. Was Lydia truly ready to move forward?

Taking his hand, she plunged it under her skirt.

“Yes. Touch me.”

Chapter 17

Harrison caught her gaze. “I will only do this is if you are absolutely certain. As I said, it is up to you. So again, I ask: do you want me to touch you? Make you come? I will do this and nothing more until you say different.”

Lydia’s eyes were bright; the desire was plainly visible in their depths. Regardless, he would not proceed unless she was sure. Until she verbalized her wishes.

“This and nothing more. For now,” Lydia whispered.

That was all that he needed to hear. Tunneling under the loose undergarments, he plunged two fingers inside Lydia, and finding her wet, he groaned with satisfaction.

Capturing her mouth with his, Harrison kissed her fiercely. He tangled his tongue about hers, moving in unison with the thrust of his fingers. Finding her nub, he rubbed vigorously, causing her back to arch and her breath to catch. He kept kissing, touching, bringing them both to the brink in no time at all.

Trailing his lips across her cheek, he licked the pulse point on her neck, biting gently. Lydia’s breathing was uneven, matching his own.

God, he was close.

Then Lydia gave a strangled cry, her muscles inwardly clamping his fingers tight. The pulsating moved through him, basking him in utter bliss. Lydia laid her head against his shoulder in complete exhaustion.

“W-what about you?”

“This was all about you. Your pleasure.”

Harrison was ready to spend right this moment, but he meant what he said.

One step at a time. Only at Lydia's invitation.