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Pippa kissed his lips. “Tell me, my lord, have you ever trembled for another lover?”
A shocked breath hissed from him. William tightened his arm around her, jerked her more against his body, and made love to her mouth with scorching expertise. He shifted with her, shoving the door closed and pressing her against it. The finger that had been stilled against her mons moved, striking a fiery pleasure against her nub. Pippa quaked in the cage of his arms as he repeated that wicked caress over and over, before dipping lower with that finger and slipping it deep inside her sex. She cried out at the sensations that poured through her like a honeyed blade.
“What is happening?” she gasped, aware of the sweat beading on her brow, and the awful fire of need in her lower limbs. “William?” she choked out when that finger slid even deeper, then harder in a few quick strokes that careened her senses. He then used his thumb to circle her knot of pleasure. Delight swamped her senses and to her mortification something low inside her belly snapped, and release pulsed through her body.
“Not even the presence of your chaperone could stop me if I lifted you right now and took you against this door. Do you understand.”
Shock jerked through Pippa, and she stared up at him, unable to find any words to counteract his assertion.
“I am that kind of man, Pippa. And afterward I would not marry you.”
She felt as if something inside her crumpled, but she lifted her chin, and rendered her face an indifferent mask. He had never promised her anything, and if he acted the callous rake now, it would be foolish of her to be so wounded when it had been her who had recklessly dared.
“The naivety that brought you here to my house will do you no good in tangling with a gentleman of my jaded tastes and varied experiences. I am not for the likes of you, Pippa. You need a gentleman who is not a decade older and far harder than you are. A man who shares the same interest as you, a gentleman who—”
“Who is kind and protective of me, that he would make enemies for me because his honor recoiled that I had been attacked. A man who would watch me plant a facer on a libertine but admires me for it instead of scolding me as many men of society would indeed do,” she whispered, now taking his mouth as he had taken hers, gripped in a storm of desire for him.
William groaned, taking her passionate kisses and responding with the same ardor she showed. It seemed to take all his self-control, but he gentled their torrid kisses and removed his hand from under her skirt. Breathing heavily, he stepped back from Pippa reluctantly, although she could see from the tightness of his trousers that he was fully aroused.
“This will not happen again, Lady Pippa,” he said gruffly. “Forgive me for losing control.”
Her heart squeezing and her throat aching, she made no reply. William stepped away from her and walked over to the windows overlooking his small gardens. Pippa lifted trembling fingers to her lips, knowing they would appear swollen and well-kissed to Lucinda’s far too perceptive gaze.
“I bid you good day, my lord,” she said hoarsely.
“Goodbye, Lady Pippa.”
She closed her eyes against the finality of his words, turned around and walked away. Lucinda had been waiting in the hallway with a contemplative air about her, however, she remained silent as they departed the marquess’s home.
Once seated in the carriage, Lucinda shared with her a sympathetic smile. Pippa tried to return that smile, but her mouth wobbled.
“Would you like to tell me about it?” Lucinda gently invited.
“I think perhaps in my bid to be…different I went too far,” she whispered, looking out the carriage windows.
“He kissed you.”
Her cheeks violently heated.
“Ah,” Lucinda murmured, “the rogue did more.”
Pippa bit into her lower lip, trying to not squirm on the carriage seat. “What are your thoughts in regard to the marquess, Pippa?”
Her belly flipped alarmingly. “I felt a connection to him the first night we met.”
“And when was this?”
She told Lucinda all of it, leaving out no details.
“I am glad you planted that blackguard a facer. Well, more than one!” Lucinda chuckled, and then she sighed. “It is very uncommon for a lady to be the one to pursue a gentleman she likes. It has happened, and I love that you took the risk. Some men, like the marquess, are not made for marriage.”
A painful hitch travelled through Pippa’s heart. “I supposed so,” she murmured, looking away from the sympathy in Lucinda’s eyes.
“But Pippa…”
She glanced back at her friend. “Yes?”
“How he makes you feel…that is special, my dear. I assure you, it is not felt with every gentleman.”
