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Chapter 4
How had their passionate discussion about women’s roles in society turned so… heated? Shivers ran up and down Jo’s spine, her breathing was labored, and there was a particular tingle between her legs, the kind of tingle that could only be assuaged by a sordid tryst.
All that from a single glance, a suggestive whisper, and a kiss on her hand. What if he’d actually kissed her lips?
She shivered again, her lips parting on a sigh. Just the fantasy had her opening to him. Craving his closeness.
But she didn’t get involved with gentlemen. Not anymore.
Except she couldn’t seem to peel her eyes away from the viscount before her. Neither was she willing to pry her arm away from his firm fingers.
He touched her softly, tenderly, making her hairs stand on end and arousing the kind of desire she hadn’t felt in a long time.
I don’t get involved with the gentlemen.She tried to remind herself of her resolutions as he kissed his way to the naked part of her arm between the glove and her sleeve.
I shan’t act like a gentleman with you.
He nipped on her shoulder, and Jo melted into his embrace. He kissed the juncture between her shoulder and her neck, licked his way up to her jaw, and then bit her lip. Jo sighed her surrender, and the viscount took full advantage.
He covered her mouth with his and plunged his tongue inside, claiming her, devouring her. He tasted of wine and something sweet. Perhaps, it was just him.
He smelled of a light summer breeze and his own masculine scent. Jo couldn’t get enough of it.
He collected her against his chest, then he was raising her, seating her on his lap. Jo didn’t protest. The firm arms around her promised comfort. Soft lips against her mouth promised pleasure.
What’s wrong with a little pleasure?
Jo ran a hand against his clean-shaven jaw, cradling his face, angling it for better access. His tongue swept inside her mouth, drawing circles, teasing, playing. She sucked on his tongue and he groaned, tightening his arms around her, pressing her closer to him. His aroused length poked at her bottom, making Jo move against him, hoping for more contact.
She whimpered in frustration and tugged on her skirts, raising them, as she moved to straddle his hips.
He looked at her with his dark unfathomable eyes, then pushed her hair back so he could study her face. “You’re incredible,” he whispered hoarsely.
She didn’t want to talk anymore. She didn’t want to think. Because if she did, she would have to end this exquisite sensation. And she didn’t want to do that either.
So she moved her pelvis against his hardened cock, making him groan. His hand settled on the nape of her neck, and he squeezed as he lowered his mouth to hers again.
He plundered her mouth as his other hand caressed its way up her thigh, and his hips moved in rhythm with her pelvis. They were lost in the sensual dance, controlled solely by their passion. Their tongues tangled, their bodies moving in tandem.
His fingers grazed her inner thigh, and Jo moved her hips lower until his hand touched her core. Jo moaned, breaking the kiss. Their heavy breaths mingled in the midnight air, their gazes linked.
The viscount stared into her eyes as he moved his fingers, playing with her wet folds. Jo bit her lip against crying out, and he smiled smugly.
“You’re so wet,” he whispered against her lips. “So ready for me.”
Jo whimpered in frustration. Her hands moved down his chest until she encountered the falls of his breeches. With shaking hands, she freed his hard, burning cock and took him in her hands.
They both moaned in relief as her hands circled his length, squeezing him between her fingers. He looked at her, his eyes dark with passion glinting in the light of the moon. His breathing was ragged, and she ran her hand up and down his length, watching his reaction, watching as his breath hitched with every movement of her hands.
As if in retaliation, his fingers moved against her wet folds, expertly playing with her quim, touching, pressing, making her cry for more.
Her hips moved of their own volition as her hand squeezed his steely length. He chased the tension in her loins with his fingers, making her burn from the inside.
“Harder,” he growled. “Squeeze me harder.”
She did, holding him in both her hands and pumping his length with renewed vigor. Suddenly, he pressed his thumb against the most sensitive part of her sex and circled it.
She cried out, and he repeated the action. Jo covered her mouth with his to refrain from screaming, then bit his lip from the pleasure that flooded her. He didn’t relent and whimpers left her throat with every stroke of his fingers.
