Page 14 of How to Catch an Heiress

“I don’t know what you mean.” Her face flushed. She did know what he meant.

“Perhaps I have made a mistake in not showing you one of the biggest advantages in being my wife.”

“What—”

He shifted and she started when he grasped her waist and she once again found herself sitting across his hard thighs.

“Sir Stirling—”

He pulled her against his chest. “Am I really such an ogre?” he asked.

His warm breath bathed her cheek. Her heart jumped to a gallop.

“Have I no redeeming qualities?” he murmured.

Her mind muddled. She hadn’t been this close to a man since she’d eloped with Lord Everston. Sir Stirling shifted and she realized he intended to kiss her. Chastity froze when his lips brushed hers. He gently grasped her neck and stroked her ear with his thumb. A shiver slid down the back of her neck and across her shoulders when his mouth fully covered hers.

Dangerous, her mind whispered.

Chastity fisted his lapel as his mouth moved on hers. She noted the bulge that pressed against her hip. Surely, lust hadn’t affected him so quickly? He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to her ear. She shivered. His mouth closed around her lobe and he nibbled. The carriage jostled and she bumped his hard length. He drew in a sharp breath. He bit down a little harder on her ear.

Lord, she’d never felt anything so decadent. Lord Everston was a skilled lover—or so she’d thought—but he hadn’t made her tremble by merely nibbling on her ear. Nibbling on her ear? The idea seemed somehow indecent. And why not? The way he made her feel was indecent. Her nipples hardened and pressed against the fabric of her corset. His mouth slid down her neck to her shoulder. He tugged one sleeve down and she started when his mouth made contact with the rise of her breast.

This was improper and she should put a stop to it. But her mind remained frozen as his tongue slipped below the edge of her corset and flicked her nipple. His breath tickled the sensitive flesh, causing shivers to race down her abdomen straight to the juncture between her legs. The hand cupping her neck slid around her neck and started downward. Her heart beat faster as his fingers molded to her curves in their downward trek. The private place between her legs tightened. She couldn’t believe it when he reached her stomach. The warmth of his palm penetrated the fabric of her dress and petticoat. He inched her dress upward.

“Good Lord,” she breathed when cool air washed over her legs—then her thighs. “This is not proper.”

“Nae, my lady, it isn’t,” he murmured against her breast.

His fingers brushed her thigh and she started.

He lifted his head an inch from her breast and said, “I will not hurt you.”

Hurt her? That she didn’t fear. It was the riotous feelings flooding her.

His fingers reached her abdomen and she tensed. He drew slow, light circles. The tension in her shoulders eased, though she couldn’t think past the flick of his tongue against her nipple. What was he doing? Her mind snapped onto the finger that slipped into the curls below her belly button. She drew a stuttered breath as the digit dipped into the moist heat and brushed her sex.

Chastity drew a sharp breath when he gently massaged her. Sweet God, he was casting some sort of spell on her. She understood well enough how to pleasure herself—but she hadn’t known a man could make her feel this way. Desire streaked through her when he flicked his tongue against her nipple as he massaged her faster. She buried her face in his neck and breathed deep of his scent. Her head spun and she couldn’t refrain from arching into his finger. A sudden tide of pleasure washed over her. Chastity cried out and light flashed beneath her eyelids.

Her mind registered his groan and she vaguely wondered how she would ever look him in the eye again.

A short while later, Sir Stirling kept Chastity close at his side as they walked from the carriage toward Gledstone Hall. Once out of earshot of the driver, he said, “I assume we would do better to enter through the kitchen?”

She nodded, and he veered right. They continued around the house to the rear door. He allowed her to precede him up the four steps and into the empty kitchen. They were lucky that Cook wasn’t up yet.

He grasped her arm and turned her to face him. “Can I trust you to stay here and not venture out again?”

“Can I trust you not to fight duels?” she countered.

He grinned and she resisted the urge to smile back. The man’s humor was contagious.

“You must trust me on this, Chastity. I know what I’m doing.”

“If you are shot—”

“Your problems will be solved,” he cut in. His eyes twinkled.

Her cheeks flushed hot, but embarrassment gave way to pique. “This is exactly what I feared. You will laugh at me every time we speak.”

“I am not laughing at you, love. I am wooing you.”

She blinked. “Wooing? You look for every opportunity to drive me to distraction.”

“Exactly,” he said, and before she realized his intent, he pushed her against the wall and pressed his body against hers.

He kissed her and her head spun at the press of his hard length against her abdomen. He broke the kiss, then turned and strode the three paces to the door. He reached the first step, then paused in closing the door, and said, “Do not force me into action by gainsaying me in this matter, Chastity. Contrary to what you think, I will not be your jailer. But neither will I allow you to interfere in matters that you know nothing of. I will see you at the church later today.” He gave her no chance to reply, but closed the door.

Chastity stared at the door. Good Lord. With her mind on the duel, she’d forgotten that she was to marry in a few hours.