Page 65 of The Marriage Wager

“You should not be here. Someone might see you.”

“Would you rather I leave?” Her hand went to the sash of her dressing gown, and with a boldness that she would not have thought herself capable of, she opened it and shrugged her robe back off her shoulders, letting it slide down her body and onto the floor.

Dominic’s eyes followed the path of her dressing gown, then returned to her face. Even in the dim light of the room, she could see desire stamped plainly on his features.

“No,” he replied, his voice low and vibrant with hunger. “No, I don’t want you to leave.”

He walked across the room to her, reaching behind her to turn the key in its lock. His body was only inches from her; she could see the ripple of muscle under his skin as he stretched around her to lock the door. He leaned in close to her, taking a long, slow breath.

“You smell like heaven,” he told her, and the deep vibration of his voice set up an answering tremor inside her.

Constance leaned yearningly toward him; she wanted to melt against him. He brushed his lips against her hair. His hands came up to grasp her arms lightly, holding her still as he nuzzled his face into her hair. His lips sent a shiver through her, and she could feel herself loosening, opening to him in her most intimate core.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You feel…all right? I do not want to hurt you.”

“You will not hurt me,” Constance replied confidently. “I want to be with you again.”

She pulled back a little, raising her face to look at him. She loved the look of him, his eyes hard and bright, intent upon her, his skin stretched tautly across his bones, his mouth softening with desire.

“I want you,” she said simply.

His jaw tightened, and he let out a little groan. His hands slid around her, pulling her to him, and he lowered his face into the curve of her neck, kissing the tender flesh there.

“Ah, Constance, Constance, you destroy all my best intentions,” he murmured against her throat, his breath sending shivers across her skin.

His lips traveled up her neck, and he pushed back her hair with one hand so that his mouth could explore unimpeded. He kissed along the line of her jaw, little featherlight kisses that teased her nerve endings awake, until he came at last to the lobe of her ear. He took the fleshy lobe delicately between his teeth, nibbling, then slid his tongue along the edge.

Constance drew in a quick breath, and her hands went to Dominic’s sides. His skin was smooth beneath her fingers, and beneath it she could feel the hard ridges of his ribs. She slid her hands around to his back, sweeping up over the hard pads of muscle, then back down, coming to a halt when she touched the cloth of his breeches. Her fingers edged along the waistband, fingernails tracing a narrow, delicate line, then insinuated themselves beneath the waist, sliding down under the cloth, the pads of her fingertips touching the rising curve of his buttocks.

She felt a tremor take him at her movements, and she smiled in sensual satisfaction at the knowledge that she stirred him. Dominic’s hands slid down to her hips, clenching on the material of her nightgown and bunching it up inch by inch, while his mouth played havoc with her senses.

He kissed her ears, her neck, her face, moving ever closer to her lips, until at last his mouth fastened on hers. With a small sigh of satisfaction, Constance met his kiss with fervor. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she went up on tiptoe, pressing her body against his.

Dominic’s hands slid up beneath her nightgown, caressing the soft skin of her buttocks. His fingers traced the bony ridge of her spine, his palms gliding over her back. The skin of his hands was rougher than her soft flesh, evoking tingles of awareness everywhere they touched.

His lips moved against hers, his tongue exploring her mouth with lazy pleasure. Her fingers twined through his hair, fingertips pressing into his scalp whenever a new sensation rocked her. Hunger was growing in her loins, hot and demanding. She rubbed her body against him, seeking the satisfaction she craved. He shuddered in response, his hands going down and digging into her buttocks, pushing her up and into him.

She felt the hard length of his desire against her, and it intensified her need. She moved instinctively, and Dominic groaned deep in his throat.

He pulled back from her, seizing the hem of her nightgown in his hands and sweeping it up and off over her head. He tossed it on the chair closest to them, then bent and swept her up in his arms. Constance let out a startled noise; then a small, pleased bubble of laughter escaped her, and she curled her arm around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.

Dominic carried her to his bed and laid her down upon it. He started to step back, his hands going to the buttons of his breeches, but she reached out to his hands, stopping them. He looked a question at her.

“Let me,” she whispered huskily, kneeling on the bed and setting to work on the buttons.

His hands slid into her hair, stroking and caressing the soft waves, as her fingers manipulated the buttons. She could feel his flesh pressing insistently against the cloth, throbbing with the movement of her fingers, and she smiled, pausing to stroke her hand down the material.

He made a noise, his hands clenching in her hair. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Constance turned her face up to him, a slow, sensual smile curving her lips. “No, only to please you.” She trailed one fingernail back up the rigid line of him. “Do you not like it?”

“Vixen.” He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Yes, I like it. I will show you just how much I like it.”

His hands went to her shoulders as though to bear her back against the sheets, but she shook her head. “No, no, let me finish.”

She unfastened another button, then slipped her fingers beneath the cloth, parting it and wiggling her fingers down inside. Her fingertips tangled through the wiry hair she found there, brushing over the satiny skin of his manhood and exploring the intriguing contrast of hard and soft.

His breath labored in his chest, and the sound stirred her. She brought her hands back out and traced a line down each side, close to but not quite touching the flesh that strained against the material. Her index fingers moved back up and outward along the joinder of his legs to his torso, then came back to meet on the last two buttons.