Page 34 of A Spinster's Guide to Landing a Lyon

Benedict caught a glimpse of the deep blush staining Amelia’s cheeks. Undoubtedly at the unspoken admission that it took far too long to notice her sister’s absence than it should have.

Undeterred, Arabella continued. “But aren’t you glad I left you two alone?”

“Very.” Benedict smiled.

“Benedict!” Amelia chided.

“See?” Arabella made a point to catch Amelia’s eyes. “I told you it would all work out, didn’t I? And my test proved it, didn’t it?”

“What test?” Benedict surveyed the sisters.

“It was nothing—” Amelia started.

“It was perfection. When Amelia grabbed her—”

“Alright. That’s enough Arabella.” Amelia’s face was fully flushed now, and her eyes were half gleaming with joy and warning to her sister.

“Fine. I suppose he doesn’t need to know everything.” She clapped loudly, “Alright, you two. Now you have some planning to do.”

“Thank you, Arabella. You are the best sister I could ask for. But I can’t plan anything without knowing that you’re taken care of first—”

Hands on her hips, Arabella’s voice dropped into a firm command. Well, as firm a command as a younger sister could take to her older sister and a duke. “Amelia. If you don’t go inside right now and plan your wedding first, I’ll…I’ll—” Arabella reached down to pick up her fallen paintbrush and pointed it at her sister. “I’ll paint you.” She lunged forward and Amelia jumped back in laughter.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go. Although it seems a bit backward to plan the wedding before he’s even asked me.”

Arabella quipped dryly, “Don’t worry. He will.”

Benedict took Amelia on his arm, feeling like the proudest lion of the…pride. Yes. He was that level of proud.

But the second they entered the house, he knew he wasn’t going to last in a room alone with her.

“I’ll just change my clothes—” she yelped as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled in for a hungry kiss. He loved the way her body melted into his. Plied against him. Soft and yielding.

“I want you, Amelia.”

“Now?” she whimpered. “Again?”

“Right. Now.”

“My room?” she asked, panting, as he nibbled on her ear and traced his tongue down her neck.

“No time.” Pulling her with him, he took a few steps backward into the drawing room and locked the door. “Are you sore, darling?”

“No.” Her soft words fluttered through the air.

“Because if you are, I’ll take you in a different way. Focus on your pleasure.”

Her eyes widened at his offer. “I want you, too, Benedict. I’m not sore.”

Then he released a low growl for her ears only. He hauled her skirts up to her waist and pushed her back against the door.When he lifted her, she instinctively wrapped her legs around him while he unbuttoned his breeches.

“I’m so hard for you, Amelia. This is going to be quick.”

“Yes. Give it all to me, Benedict.”

And he did. Thrusting into her over and over again. Claiming her. Marking her. Taking her.

When he felt her clench around him, he chased after her and released into her.