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Leo’s tongue licked against her bottom lip. “You’re mine. If your lover comes through that door, I’ll shoot him with your pistol. Say it.” A big hand worked at the bodice of her gown, cupping her breast, searching for her nipple through the layers hiding the sensitive peak. Gently, he teased and stroked until another moan left her. His hips tilted into hers, the hard length of his cock searing Georgina through her skirts. “Tell me who you belong to.” He nipped against her mouth. “Say it.”
Georgina had never been particularly obedient. A deficiency in her character.
“No.” The word came out in a whimper as he stroked her nipple until the tiny point formed a sharp peak. He stroked the nipple through the light wool of her dress, the sensation of the fabric rippling across her breast more arousing than she’d thought possible.
“Say it,” he growled.
“You’ve always been arrogant, Leo,” she panted. “The most entitled bastard I’ve ever known. So bloody arrogant.” The air paused in her lungs as his mouth nibbled at her breast through the wool.
“Entitled to you.”
“But you’re so angry.” She flailed in his arms, which did nothing but push the ache between her thighs against him. “And you don’t want me.”
“Iamfurious.” Leo ground his cock between her thighs, tugging angrily at her skirts. Grunting in frustration, he lifted her leg, placing her knee against his hip. Keeping her pinned against the bookcase, he ran his free hand up the silk of her stockings to the apex between her thighs, searching through the cotton. Brushing softly against the hair of her mound.
Georgina shivered. Trembled. “I won’t say it.”
His fingers trailed over her skin, warming her even as she struggled against the way he held her. The briefest brush along her damp flesh. Circling with maddening slowness.
She twisted, whether to get away or push herself more fully against his hand she wasn’t sure.
“You often accuse me of being indirect,” Leo murmured, watching her reaction to the movement of his fingers. “I agree.” His fingers stilled for a moment before caressing her again with gentle purpose. “Consider this a pointed discussion about how things will commence forthwith so there are no further misunderstandings between us.”
His mouth covered hers as his thumb pressed against the small bud hidden in her folds. Two fingers sank into her wetness, filling her, but not enough. Georgina’s pleasure peaked sharply, pushed forward by the gentle pressure of his thumb. The sensation became unbearable, her muscles fluttering around his fingers, held hostage. Every nerve in her body was inflamed and aching for the release he had brought her to but now withheld.
Georgina pushed futilely against his hand, but Leo didn’t move.
“I think,” he murmured, holding her at the very edge of pleasure while she panted and thrashed softly against him, “there are some things we should discuss. Amanda, my stepmother—”
Damn him.
“I know who your blasted stepmother is, Leo. Get to the point. Please.” He was very gently pinching her flesh between his fingers, driving her mad. Not allowing her any sort of fulfillment. “You’re cruel.”
“At times.” His fingers slowly stroked a spot deep inside her. “Your lover must not be very well-endowed, Georgina.” He shook his head as if he had an ounce of pity for her. “Tight, as if you were still a maid.” He held her on the edge once more, stopping the featherlight strokes. “Why didn’t you come to me?” His lips grazed her cheek. “Do you loathe me so much?”
“No.” A sob left her. Georgina panted as he pushed another finger inside her, stretching her, while his thumb moved a fraction of an inch. “Your intentions toward me were not made”—the air in her lungs froze as he hit a particularly sensitive spot—“clear.”
He pushed down with his thumb and her muscles clutched his fingers like a vise.
“I’ve made mistakes.” His voice was soft. “But I want no more assumptions made on my behalf, as to my feelings toward either you or our child. No more decisions without speaking to each other. Is that plain enough? Are my intentions clearnow, Georgina?”
“I suppose. I mean—” She was hot all over, hanging on the very edge of the most blissful pleasure. Tortured. Aching. Because Leo felt the need to use this particularinstantto teach her a lesson.
“You still haven’t admitted you’re mine. Say it.”
“I am.” Her voice grew pleading. “I’m yours. I have been since that first night when you wouldn’t let me lose all my money at faro. Leo, please.”
“It seems I’ve made my point.” He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on her, his tongue sweeping between her lips to stroke and ravish. Still holding her wrists, he very carefully pushed her over the edge.
Georgina cried out, biting into the fabric of his coat, straining, trapped between him and the bookcase. The pleasure soaked through her veins, jerking her limbs, but Leo held her tightly against him. He milked every bit of bliss from her body, a long sigh leaving him.
Before the last of the tremors had left Georgina, his hand withdrew, trailing along the length of one of her legs before coming out from under her skirts to pluck at the buttons of his trousers. He released her wrists, allowing her hands to fall to his shoulders.
“Mine, Georgina. To be absolutely clear. No matter my anger.” His gaze was intent on hers. “It will fade in time.”
“So will mine,” she said as he thrust inside her. Georgina gasped, struggling to take him. He pushed into her hard and fast, pinning her to the bookcase.
Her fingers tore at him, sinking into his hair, wanting him closer. Needing for Leo to imprint himself against her skin. Pleasure pricked along her body like wildfire. The pads of his fingers sank into her hips with such force, she knew she’d be bruised.
