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“Well, I do feel some discomfort,” she admitted sheepishly.
He stared at her sternly for what felt like a long moment then he suddenly swept her up into his arms and carried her to the desk in the room, sitting her down atop it. “Are you more comfortable now?”
“My body is, but my pride is not.” She shook her head, setting her reticule and papers down beside her. “Arguing with you in this position is not advantageous.”
“Holy God, Elizabeth!”
“You must kn—” He took her face and brought his lips to hers. His tongue possessively swept into her mouth, and a sweetly familiar sensation began where her legs joined.
One of his hands moved from her cheek to loosen the ribbon of her cloak. It fell from her shoulders, and his mouth moved to her neck, his tongue swirling wickedly on her skin. Then gently, he squeezed one of her breasts before taking both in his hands and kneading. He drew back and looked down at her.
“No stays?”
“I dressed to stay in my bedchamber in the morning, and I could not put them on myself when I dressed to come out,” she explained.
He groaned and caught her hardened nipple. Her heart pounded with anticipation. Elizabeth arched her back and reached for the strap holding his hair at his nape. She tugged it loose and ran her fingers through his hair. Her body was defying her mind again, and she was powerless.
“This is the only way you will stop talking, is it not?” he whispered, kissing up her jaw to her earlobe which he took between his teeth and nipped.
“I—” she breathed. The wicked way in which he was rolling her nipples stole every thought that formed in her mind. When he pinched her, she cried out, and he groaned.
He chuckled. “We cannot speak now, can we, Elizabeth?”
“Rhys—”
“Yes, call me Rhys and only Rhys.” His lips returned to hers, and his hands slid to her back to undo the buttons of her dress. When he sucked her bottom lip, she clutched his hair.
He slipped the three buttons from their holes and pulled her dress down her shoulders. He stepped away from her to look at what he had revealed, and her hands quickly moved to cover herself, but he caught them.
“Let me see,” he commanded gently. “You are perfectly made. Let me see.” She allowed him to remove her hands as she held her breath. His eyes darkened with hunger, and he licked his lips, smiling wickedly.
“Lovely,” he murmured, and she exhaled. He stroked one breast and rolled the nipple with his thumb. “Look at me, Elizabeth. What does this do to you?”
Her lips parted, but no sound passed through. The hunger he had awakened on the night of the masquerade made her want to give herself entirely to him. The ache between her legs was demanding satisfaction that only he could give.
He took her other breast, his eyes holding hers. “Tell me,” he commanded.
“It…” she licked her dry lips, “it makes my body burn.”
He smiled with only one corner of his mouth curving. “Good. You make me burn in the same way.” He bent to kiss the space between her breasts before suckling her.
“Rhys!” she moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He laughed and pulled away then blew onto her wet skin. Elizabeth shivered and clutched his coat lapels.
“Do you know how many times I have had to give myself pleasure with my hands, so I could resist you?” he asked, pinching her nipple before suckling her again.
“No!” she gasped, moving her hips to soothe the ache at her sex.
“Do you enjoy seeing me suffer?”
“Is this your vengeance?” she ground out.
He moved up to kiss her lips before he straightened, a wicked grin spreading his lips. “Yes, it is.” He pulled her dress up. “I want you to feel the same frustration that I have lived with since the night of the masquerade.”
“This is not fair,” she cried, her body quivering.
He pressed his lips to her temple. “I know. I do not know why my body wants you, and I have done all I can to stop.”
Elizabeth pushed him away from her. “Damn you, Rhys!”
