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She knew she would. And even though she would have accepted his proposal without the wager, she also knew that she was going to take it.
Because either way, she’d win. Of that she was certain. “I accept,” she gasped out even as he pressed against her once more, longer this time, the ache growing and spreading. He eased back, only to push forward again and her body began to tighten. One of his hands glided down her leg, pulling the hem of her night rail up, and once it had cleared her thighs, he lifted her into his arms, her legs naturally wrapping about him.
Which meant that his stiff manhood pressed even more fully into her sensitive flesh. She moaned, pulling at his hair as she sought to be closer still, her hips grinding into his.
He groaned into her mouth as he shifted her closer still, their bodies moving together as she chased a pleasure deeper than she’d ever imagined.
Until he carried her to the bed. As he lay her down, her weight sinking into his, her legs hanging of the edge, she let out a cry at the intensity of pleasure.
But he wasn’t done. Swirling his hips, he started a rhythm that had her body humming with need. Just when the feeling became so tense she thought she might break, he pulled back.
She let out a cry of protest, a frown creasing her brow as she tightened her grip around his neck. “Don’t stop.”
But he only smiled. It was full of tenderness but also, his eyes glinted with wicked intent. She loved that look.
“I’ve got a woman to win, and I mean to leave her without a doubt.”
The promise in those words filled her with such desire that she arched up, pressing into him. But he loosened the arms about his neck and gently lay her arms above her head.
Running his hands down her entire length, he finally stopped at the hem of her night rail as he began pulling the lacy edge higher. Her senses were so heightened that even the fabric gliding along her skin made her shiver, but when the air hit her swollen womanhood, she gasped at the pleasure that skittered through her.
He gave a light, sweeping touch down the cleft of her womanhood. The pleasure was too intense so that she cried out, “I concede.”
That made him laugh low and deep, even as his moved the pad of his thumb through her folds again. “Not yet, love. I’ve only just begun.”
She drew in a gasping breath, propping up on her elbows to catch sight of his hands touching her…there. For some reason, the visual only made the pleasure more intense. His hand was large, his fingers both masculine and elegant, and as he slid one finger into her slick channel the heat that had been threatening to explode inside her pulsed as her head fell back again.
And when the heel of his hand came to her aching nub, she cried out. This was what being with a man meant?
Why had she waited so long? She wanted all of it. More. Now.
Had he heard her plea? Had she said it out loud? He pulled away for a moment, but only to yank off his jacket and cravat, pulling at the laces of his shirt so that he could tug it over his head. When he was bare-chested, he dropped to one knee beside the bed, reinserting his finger into her as she pushed against the touch, wanting more.
And then he leaned forward, his tongue flicking out to stroke her folds.
A strangled cry erupted from her lips as he swirled his tongue around, pumping his finger in and out of her channel.
She was lost in the pleasure, his tongue swirling about her center of nerves, his finger filling her until she couldn’t stand another moment, and anchoring her fingers into the thick, dark strands of his hair, she pulled him closer and shattered against his tongue.
Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her until finally she was a limp puddle on the bed.
She felt him slide away, heard the rustling of clothing as she lay there, trying to catch her breath.
She’d never imagined…
Finally, she pried her eyes open, catching his gaze. “Can I concede now?”
But he only grinned. “I might be slow in my game, my love, but I’m methodical.”
He was. She remembered the way he’d played chess. “I know.”
“So you’ll understand why you may not want to end our game yet.”
Her gaze slid down his bare chest, admiring the breadth of his shoulders. The lean muscles that tapered down to his narrow waist. But as her gaze dipped further, she realized that the rustling she’d heard was him…taking off the rest of his clothes.
He was completely naked and absolutely gorgeous.
Her gaze settled on the length of manhood, jutting out from his body. That was when she lifted her arms to him. She’d play the game until the very end. A baron was her prize.
