Page 67 of The Devil's Accidental Duchess
CHAPTER 23
Heaven help me.
A quiet moan punctuated the first graze of the kiss Selina had craved since their stolen moment behind the bushes. It was risky, it was dangerous, with guests not so far away on the lawns, but she couldn’t help herself.
She needed him. Wanted him. Couldn’t hope to stay away from him, regardless of what common sense dictated.
“I love it when you moan for me,” Philip purred, holding her tighter, his kiss hungrier.
A blush warmed her skin, though that might have had more to do with the way his hand smoothed up the curve of her spine until he touched the bare skin at the nape of her neck.
She shivered, another moan catching in her throat as his other hand roved over the swell of her backside, partaking in a lightsqueeze of soft, supple flesh. The pressure pushed her hips closer to him, feeling that mysterious, intoxicating hardness once more.
Since the gardens, she had discreetly searched his library for any information about a gentleman’s ‘manhood’. The anatomy books had confused her even more, certainly in terms of the mechanics, while the fiction was as steeped in metaphor as the other books she had devoured. No help at all.
She supposed she could have asked Melody what sheknew about such things, but every time she had considered broaching the subject, embarrassment had stayed her tongue.
Struck with a sudden boldness, she let her hand slip between them, her palm exploring that bewildering appendage. At least the shape of it through the front of his trousers.
A growl rumbled in the back of his throat as she touched him. How could flesh become so hard? And why did it make her desire rise, a faint pulse throbbing between her thighs? It was satisfying to feel, yet it answered no questions.
“This isn’t about mypleasure,” he told her in a thick voice.
He caught hold of her inquisitive hand and walked her backward until her shoulders bumped against the nearest wall. There, with a wicked smirk on his lips, he lifted her hands and pinned them above her.
“This is about yours,” he said, dipping his head to kiss her harder.
She bucked away from the wall, playfully indignant at having her hands denied the opportunity to explore, and kissed him back with everything she possessed. Hot and frantic and desperate, their tongues dancing, his body pressed close to hers, letting her feel what she couldn’t touch.
It was infuriating in the best possible way, her body straining to be nearer, to feel more.
“If I let you go, do you promise not to touch?” he teased, his lips tracing a feverish line down the curve of her neck.
She nodded, her eyes closed, delirious with want.
“Say it,” he whispered.
“I promise.”
He slowly released her hands. As it turned out, not to necessarily stop her from touching him, but so that he had both of hishands to touch her as he pleased.
His palms skimmed the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, and the rise of her bosom, his fingertips hooking into the hem of her neckline and tugging it down.
She almost cried out, forgetting about the guests on the lawn, as his mouth closed over her nipple, freed from the constraints of her stays and her dress. He sucked gently, enough to make her hips buck, her body on fire.
Mercy, what am I going to do about this?
She wanted him as she had never wanted anything else in her life, but to make a mistake before the wedding? No, she had to be better than that, had to be more disciplined than that. Even if it was a strange form of torture.
Just then, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to his desk. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist, bringing the heat of her closer to that hard length.
His hand pushed aside papers and ledgers, and he set her down. She moaned at the pressure of his hips tilting forward, uncertain if she had the discipline not to go too far.
As his mouth sought hers in an urgent crush, she clung to him, kissing him back with equal fervor. A distraction from the ache between her thighs that wanted so much more of him. All of him, in truth, whatever that meant.
Slowly, he pressed her back against the desk, and his mouth strayed away from hers. His lips fluttered down the column of her throat and over the swell of her breasts, his tongue flicking against her pert nipple to make her gasp.
“Oh, Philip… Oh!” she gasped, half-wishing he was close enough to kiss, half-wishing he would continue downward.
