Page 43 of This Marquess of Mine

Her head fell back at the first rasp of his thumb, thudding softly against the door, her lips parting on a silent moan. He stroked again, circling his thumb over the aching peak of her sex, his touch like fire, setting her ablaze.

“Come for me,” he whispered as his fingers stroked and teased. Unrelenting. Driving her mad. “Give me your honey, petal.”

She panted, arching into his hand, and with one final stroke of his wicked thumb, she shattered. Her limbs stiffened, stars bursting behind her eyes as a wave of pleasure arced through her, unlike any she’d ever known.

Boneless, she sagged against the door, her limbs quivering, her skin flushed hot.

Never had such intense desire awakened within her; never was it so pleasurable to sate it. Would it ever be so good again? Or was it only Griffin’s touch that made her come alive?

Dense silence permeated the room, the only sound the beating of her still racing heart.

Tentatively, she opened her eyes.

Griffin had leaned his forearm on the door above her, and his head was bowed, his gaze lowered. He stood motionless, and yet, seemed to vibrate with energy.

“Goodness,” she chirped. Or, tried to. Her throat was dry as dust, and the word came out more croak than chirp.

Amused gray eyes met hers. “Are you all right?”

Her face warmed and she straightened off the door, fussing with the folds of her shawl. “I’m marvelous, thank you. And you?”

The moment the question left her lips, she longed to take it back. Of course he wasn’t all right. He had not…taken his pleasure.

At least, she assumed that was the reason for his…tenseness. Should she offer to—no, her mind shied from the notion. She would not know how to ask or what to do, and she had reached her limits on feeling foolish for one day.

“I’m marvelous, too,” he said. His tone was mild, though she could see the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “Tonight was—” He broke off with a huffed laugh, his breath rustling her hair. “Tonight was...”

Tonight was what? Glorious? Surprising? A mistake?

Her chest grew tight, the moment vulnerable, assailable, and she knew she could not remain even a second longer.

“Tonight was interesting,” she said, donning her breeziest smile, “but it should not have happened. And, of course, it absolutely cannot happen again.”

There. She’d said it before he could.

Grappling for the door handle, she eased the door open, shuffling Griffin out of the way with sheer force of will and slipped from the room without another word.

What was there to say?

If she had stayed, she might have revealed more than she should, and Griffin did not need to know just how much tonight had meant to her. Not when there was every chance it had meant nothing to him.

She couldn’t bear to stay and listen to him say it was all a mistake. Not tonight. Not after the way he’d made her feel, the way his arms had held her, the way his mouth had worshipped hers, as if she meant something to him. As if she mattered.

She wanted to hold onto that feeling just a little while longer.

But only for tonight.