Page 74 of This Marquess of Mine

Chapter Twenty-Two

The desire blazing in Olivia’s deep blue eyes was more arousing than anything Griffin had ever seen before, and though he knew he should, he was powerless to resist her.

“Loosen the buttons,” he ordered, his voice a low rumble. She wanted to see his body. Far be it from him to deny the lady’s request.

Olivia dipped her head and went to work on his waistcoat, her progress slowed by unsteady hands, but Griffin did not hurry her, nor did he offer to help. This night was hers—her pace, her preference, her power. He would let her be his guide tonight.

“There,” she murmured, pushing his waistcoat from his shoulders and down his arms until it fell in a heap at his feet.

He smiled at the glint of triumph in her eyes. “Shall I remove my shirt, as well?”

She nodded, her gaze already skimming over his body, as if picturing what he would look like. In one deft move, he swept his shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor.

She was silent for a long moment, her eyes skating over his torso, and then she lifted her hands and pressed them to his chest. Griffin held his breath as her fingers began to roam, her skin feather-soft, her touch so light yet so intense it sent shivers across his flesh.

“You told me not so long ago that you think of me sometimes,” she said. “When you pleasure yourself.” Her gaze lifted from his chest to his face. “I think of you sometimes, too.”

God, what was she trying to do to him?

Images of Olivia finding her pleasure at her own hand flooded his mind and his cock surged beneath his trousers.

Gritting his teeth, he guided her to the chaise and urged her to lay down, determined to go slow.

She reclined against the cushion, her fingers laced across her belly, her skirts askew, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

She watched him openly, unabashedly, with curiosity in her eyes, and desire, too. Desire for him.

His breath whooshed from his lungs.

He joined her on the chaise, leaning on one elbow to keep from crushing her as he covered her mouth with his. Olivia arched into him, meeting his kiss with a slow sweep of her tongue along his lip, her hands gripping his shoulders.

Her body was soft and lush beneath his, her scent curling around him, sweet and seductive, just like her.

He skated his hand along the dip of her waist, over her hip, down her thigh, his lips never leaving hers as he hunted for the hem of her gown.

His fingers skimmed satin and he realized she still wore her slippers. He made quick work of them, nudging them to the rug before sliding his hand up her ankle to her calf, caressing her through her stocking. He had just crested her knee when she pulled her mouth from his.

“What about Artemis?” she gasped, glancing over at the kitten’s chair, which was turned away from them, facing the hearth.

“She’s sleeping.”

Her brow lowered. “But…what if she wakes?”

“She won’t,” he said. “Not if we’re quiet.” His hand ghosted up her thigh and he nuzzled her throat. “Can you be quiet for me, Olivia?”

He nipped her collarbone with his teeth as his knuckles skimmed her inner thigh, and her breath caught in her throat.

“Griffin,” she choked out, her hips bucking, a visceral plea for more. He gave it to her, stroking her softly, her plump, wet heat soft beneath his fingers. Lightly he grazed her nub with the pad of his thumb.

Her groan rent the air.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he teased, his gaze roaming over her flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. God, she was gorgeous, so needy and aroused, reveling in her own pleasure. He wanted to give her more of it, even as his own body demanded satisfaction.

“Bite your lip for me, petal,” he demanded, his voice ragged.

She obeyed, her gaze locked on his as she drew her lower lip between her teeth, and Griffin’s cock throbbed at the sight of it.

“Yes,” he murmured approvingly. “Just like that. Don’t let go.”