AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There were dozens of men outside the door.
He wrenched his mouth away, hearing his breathing rasp and echo through the chamber.
What in blazes was happening here? His thigh was between her legs.
So his rules and scruples just melted away when a woman kissed him?
“I didn’t lift you into my carriage to bring you here to ravish you,” he said.
“I know.”
“We shouldn’t be in here with the door locked,” he rasped. “You should have a chaperone at all times.”
“I’m not one of your aristocratic ladies, Your Grace. I’m my own chaperone. I kissed you because I wanted to.”
“I understand. You’re the vicar’s daughter. Raised on psalms and proverbs in the countryside.” He stroked his knuckles down her cheek.
One more touch.
“You want to be a little bit bad,” he said. “A little bit wild.”
If this tenderness he felt for her was purely physical, he could blame it on deprivation. Starvation for a woman’s soft touch. But their kiss had felt almost spiritual, in a way.
He’d heard church bells ringing.
Heard Handel’sHallelujah Choruswith a full choir at Westminster Abbey.
He’d kissed a vicar’s daughter, who was also his servant, and an innocent.
He was thrice damned.
So why did the fiery footpath to hell feel like the first glimpse of Heaven he’d ever had?
She wanted to flirt with danger.
He’d been talking about power and pumping water and putting out fires, and some primal part of her mind had simply taken over.
She’d realized that he wanted to kiss her, but his rigid rules were thwarting his desire and that she must be the one to kiss him first.
And so she had.
And now... his knee was between her thighs. She wasridingthe hard muscles of his thigh.
He’d been saying something about how they should stop and they should leave. But his knee was still there, belying his words.
She didn’t want to leave. Not just yet. And so she kissed him again.
When she’d imagined a gentleman’s kiss she’d always imagined a courtly peck on the cheek. Or a chaste kiss on the lips, followed by a pronouncement of devotion.
She’d never imagined... this.
Rough and tender at the same time.
Wild yet skillfully controlled.
She’d never imagined a tongue in her mouth, either. The duke’s tongue, filling her mouth, pressing inside, making her moan.
It was exhilarating, transporting. Like she was riding one of his engines, flying faster than racehorses. Riding fast and hard away from London, into endless possibilities.
