Page 66 of The Hood and his Thief

Rhosyn’s breath caught, and she had a moment where she understood how Ansel must feel on the trapeze, right before letting go and trusting his fate to gravity. “The worst part is, I love you too.”

All of this consternation about whether she was a Lion or an officer of the Royal Police faded to the background with the admission that she was a woman who had fallen in love under the most inconvenient circumstances.

“What are we going to do about it?” Ansel asked, seemingly half to himself.

A simple question held so much weight. With the disaster at the King’s party and the horrible revelation that Mr. Gower appeared to be using his Talented servants to try to kill the King, the world outside this room held nothing but chaos for Rhosyn and Ansel.

“It certainly is problematic, given that my life is pretty much ruined and I’m well on my way to bringing you down with me,” Rhosyn said.

Ansel smiled softly down at her. “Love is hardly ever convenient, but something tells me it’s worth it, despite the trouble it causes.”

Rhosyn’s heart fluttered up into her throat. “Well then, I guess we’ll just do what people in love do.”

Before Ansel could ask her what she meant, Rhosyn surged upwards, crushing her lips to his. In an instant, his arms went around her shoulders, supporting her as she draped across his lap, holding her to him with a heady mix of firmness and gentleness.

Her lips moved over his, searching and insistent, but he did not yield to the franticness of her kiss. Instead, one hand came to hold her jaw, tilting her head to give him better access to her mouth. With her at his mercy, Ansel deepened the kiss, slowing the pace as his tongue slid against hers with single-minded focus.

Rhosyn whimpered, and Ansel drew back. Her lips chased his, but his hand at her jaw held her firmly in place.

“We shouldn’t. Your head…” The rasp in Ansel’s voice sent tingles all the way down to Rhosyn’s toes.

“Is fine.” Rhosyn insisted. She took advantage of their momentary pause to sit up all the way and throw one leg over Ansel’s hips, so she straddled him. “Once we leave this room, there will be no escaping reality. But for now, I’m a woman in bed with a man who just told me he loves me. If this is all we will ever have, let me have this. Please.”

Ansel let out a groan, the rumbling of his chest vibrating against Rhosyn’s nipples. She squirmed, increasing the friction so they grew hard, begging for more attention.

“If you say ‘please’ like that one more time, you won’t be leaving this room until you are mine in every way.”

“Show me,” Rhosyn breathed.

Ansel obliged, diving forwards to nip and suck at her neck. The heat of his mouth drew a shiver from her. She squirmed, working to ruck up her skirts, still wearing the fortune teller dress. Hands grabbed her wrists, rough skin against her sensitive skin halting her.

“You asked me to show you, and that means I give you everything.” His thumb drew small circles around the inside of her wrist, her pulse hammering against his touch. “Which also means you have to be patient.”

Rhosyn’s breath caught in her throat. The strange shimmering warmth that Rhosyn had felt before when he told her to be good washed through her again. Slowly, she nodded. Ansel smiled, the brightness of the adoration in his gaze doing nothing to detract from the feral edge of desire seeping into his posture.

Carefully, he unlaced her bodice, each drag of his fingers across the fabric tortuous as she waited for him to reach skin. When he finally pushed it off her shoulders, leaving her bare from the waist up, her hands flew to his shoulders. Her fingers dug into the firm muscle there, needing to hold on, as if she might fly away from the intensity of his gaze on her alone.

“Perfect,” he murmured, before lowering to press an open mouth kiss to the valley between her breasts.

Rhosyn tipped her head back, eyes staring unfocused at the dingy wood ceiling. The single word echoed through her. Here with Ansel, she was not a Lion, a police officer, a brawler, or a thief. She was Rhosyn, and all she had to do to be perfect was just be. She wanted—needed—to watch Ansel come undone. Not because he expected anything of her in this moment, but because if she didn’t give this man beneath her, who had given her so much, all the pleasure as she was capable of, she would regret it forever.

In one motion, she slid off Ansel’s lap, landing on the floor between his thighs in a puddle of skirts.

“Rhosyn—”

“Please.”

“Anything.”

A fine tremor ran through Rhosyn’s fingers as she undid his trousers, pulling them open and finally pulling Ansel’s hard length free. As her fist closed around him, the guttural groan that ran through him sent heat rolling down her spine and into her core. While her gaze remained fixed on her hand around him, his fingers in her peripheral vision clenched the edge of the bed so hard they turned white.

Rhosyn’s tongue darted out to lick her lips and glanced up at him through her lashes. He wore a thoroughly wrecked expression, even though she had just started touching him. His eyes went wide as she leaned forward, wrapping her lips around his head.

“Fuck.”

Rhosyn was drunk on his reactions, the twitch of his manhood against her tongue and the strangled grunt of pleasure as she took as much of him into her mouth as she could. She began to slide up and down, but her gaze remained fixed on his face. Her eyes desperately catalogued every twitch of his jaw and the way his teeth dug into his lower lip as he tried to contain his desperate noises. Her rhythm faltered as she stared.

One of Ansel’s hands came to hold her jaw, guiding her gently as his hips twitched.