Page 53 of How to Best a Marquess

He pressed a forefinger to her lips. “Don’t say anything. It is of no consequence.”

No consequence? It mattered to her. Everything he’d said today mattered. She captured his wrist and kissed the finger he’d pressed against her lips.

His eyes glinted. He wanted her. It was clearly written in his green gaze, in the tense lines around his eyes. Slowly, she took his finger into her mouth and swirled the tip of her tongue around the tip.

His stare intensified with raw longing. “Ellie. You tread dangerously.”

“I suppose I do.”

She stood above him. He tugged her waist toward him and she stepped between his legs. He wrapped a hand around her nape and slowly drew her in to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

She eagerly kissed him back. His kisses were everything she’d imagined as a girl and much more as a woman. Her palm came up to rest upon his chest. His skin was hot and smooth over hard planes. A sprinkling of hair teased her fingers and she kneaded the hard ridges, careful not to touch his wound.

His groan of raw need startled her. Her body responded with tension, excitement, and heaven help her, longing. Fire raged bright and hot as it had beneath the bridge. Her breasts brushed against his chest and her nipples hardened beneath her bodice. Her body craved his touch, hungry and desperate.

He stood and his hands lowered to her waist. His fingers worked the hooks on the back of her gown until the silk loosened and slipped off her shoulders to gather at her waist. He kissed her all the while, distracting her as she stood in her corset and shift. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs drawing lazy circles around her throbbing nipples through the fabric.

Fire coursed through her veins. More. She wanted more.

She wanted to feel his hands on her naked breasts, her stomach, her thighs…and in between them where she craved his touch the most. She was twenty-three years old and had never experienced a man. No one had made her pulse pound, her fantasies run wild like Hugh. She instinctively knew no one else would come close. Here was her chance to finally experience him.

Could she share passion with Hugh and walk away? Finally be with him and not linger over the past, but move on? Men did it all the time. Why did she have to be any different? She had no desire to marry, to lose her identity to a husband’s whims. As long as there was no risk of pregnancy, why couldn’t she?

She clutched his shoulders, a mewling sound escaping her lips.

He stiffened and lifted his head to look in her eyes. “If we do not stop, then it will become difficult for me to do so.”

She stared back, getting lost in his dark green irises. “Don’t stop.”

“Are you certain?”

“I am, except I fear the risk of pregnancy.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “There is always a risk, but there are ways.”

She nodded. “Then I want this.” I desperately want this.

Still he waited. “You experienced a shock this afternoon. I don’t want to take advantage.”

“You do not take advantage. Cease talking.”

She’d learned from experience that life was fragile and could be taken on a whim. A single shot from a criminal could have torn through Hugh’s heart rather than his shoulder. She shivered at the thought.

Did she want to spend the rest of her life wondering what if? Her virginity was the only thing she possessed that she could gift as she wished. And she wanted to experience Hugh.

Turning her around, he made quick work of her stays and shift until she stood naked before him. His intense gaze traveled her from head to toe.

“Loosen your hair.” His voice was gruff, commanding.

Like a siren, she pulled the pins out of her hair, and the red locks fell about her shoulders. She was aware of where her hair brushed her shoulders then her back. Hugh’s gaze watched her, his nostrils flaring.

“God, you’ve lovely. Like a fiery Venus.”

He kissed her again, then gently pinched and rolled her nipples.

She was right about wanting the barrier of clothing gone. Pleasure radiated from her breasts to deep between her legs. She panted and grew wetter.

Her hand traveled down his chest to graze his hardness through his trousers. He hissed in a breath. She attempted to pull back, but he captured her hand and pressed her palm against him. Fascinated, her fingers traced the outline. He was large and rigid.