Page 65 of The Devilish Pleasures of a Duke

“Yes.” He laughed, disbelieving, happier than he’d ever been in his life. “Yes.”

Her eyes searched his face for deceit. He must look, sound, like a fool. He didn’t care about that, either, if she accepted his proposal. “And this is what you wished to discuss with me?” she asked, his skeptical little schoolmistress, the taskmaster he could not survive without. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“When did I have the chance?” he demanded incredulously. “I followed you to a lacemaker’s stall, fully prepared to pop the question, only to find Heath picking out a pretty handkerchief for himself. It was not a moment conducive to a proposal.”

She shook her head in chagrin. “They do know. And they’ll kill us if we’re caught.”

“Let’s elope.”

“Elope? Tonight?”

He traced his gloved thumb over her lush mouth, then trailed it down her chin into the cleft of her bodice. “Why not?” he asked, his gaze darkly tempting.

She shivered. “And have my brothers chasing us across England? What a honeymoon made in hell. And what an example to the academy. We shall have a proper wedding, or none at all.”

He grinned, his thumb rubbing the plump curve of her breast. Her nipple beaded against his large warm palm. “Then you’ve accepted.”

“Did I?” she asked, gazing up at his face as he boldly caressed her senses into a state of dazed pleasure.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, warm, teasing her. Slowly he lifted his hand away to untie the laces of her bodice and free her firm white breasts. “You did.”

She crossed her hands over her swollen pink nipples. Adrian felt his breathing quicken.

“But my brothers—”

“Kiss me, Emma.” He swept her over his knee to the chaise. “Put your arms around my neck,” he said in a thick voice. “I need your kisses.”

She caught a handful of his coat. His body clenched in disappointment until he realized she wasn’t pushing him away. No, bless her. She was pulling him closer, right down on top of her, fanning the inferno that boiled inside him.

They stole kisses from each other. Starved, ungentle, greedy kisses. Neither of them were innocent. Adrian understood desire, how to arouse, to satisfy. And to prolong pleasure until one’s lover begged prettily for release.

She dropped her head back on the chaise, his sultry schoolmistress, her limbs relaxed, her curves inviting. He stared down at her in helpless desperation. His groin tightened as she laid her hand on his knee.

Suddenly his entire body felt so heavy with sexuality that even the weight of his coat became unbearable.

He began to wrench it off only to stop as he felt her hands at his shoulders, assisting him. He closed his eyes, drew a ragged breath. “It was a fumble that first night. I took advantage of you, although not on purpose.”

“And you admit it?” she asked steadily.

“To my disgrace.”

“I accept your apology.” She twisted her hips. It seemed vulgar to voice her wants. Her body observed no such restrictions.

“It wasn’t so much of an apology,” he murmured. “It was more of a warning.”

Her deepest muscles contracted, quivered. “A warning?”

He inhaled, his voice deep pitched with pleasure. “It won’t be a fumble this time—”

“Adrian—”

“—and you aren’t going to convince me this is an improper act between a man and a woman who are now to be wed—”

“—for the love of heaven, I do not wish for an apology. I want action.”

His eyes darkened in pleasure. “Then I shall act.”

“And if you don’t touch me soon, Lord Wolf,” she whispered low, drawing his coat from his broad shoulders, “I will embarrass the very name of etiquette.”