Page 38 of Misadventures with a Duke

Before any more witticisms can be traded, D and her cobalt locks have vanished out the door, leaving me alone in here with a woman too close to ignore anymore—and too mesmerizing not to resist. Not anymore.

As if I have finished a confrontation of mortal consequences and finally arrived at safe shelter, all the resilience leaves my limbs—yet never have I felt so strong, so vital, so alive.

So aroused.

I cannot hide it from her anymore. Nor do I wish to.

I pull at her elbow to draw her closer to my frame. My effort is so adamant, the momentum has me stepping back until my spine is flush with the big noisy machine. The big quivering machine…

And sometimes, one finds surprises in the oddest places. Like a different century.

I am tempted to ask Diva Degas exactly what this modern wonder is, but why waste our precious, private minutes on trivialities? Or so they seem now, when compared to how her body feels as soon as I reposition her. Spreading her legs from the back, ensuring the warm triangle at her center settles upon the surging length of mine. Squandering not another second to work her up and down my bulge, making it necessary for us to bury our moans in each other’s necks.

“Oh my,” she rasps. “Oh, Desperado…”

At once, I spread a smile along her silken skin. And then breathe out with one word.

“Raegan.”

“Ummm?” Her sultry moan vibrates along the length of my collar bone. “Yesss?”

“Raegan,” I echo in a seductive murmur. “That is…your real name.”

This time, her lips tilt up in equal measure. “Wow. How have we not gotten to that part yet?”

“Because, during many of those parts, I was behaving like an ass?”

“Ah. Yeah. All those parts.” Her soft laugh is a gentle bounce of sound around the sterile room—but most beautifully along the lips I dip closer to hers once more. By the Almighty, her lips. The mere sight of them stirs me to fresh madness. A spell that combines with her flowery scent and supple body to enrapture me in such new and stunning ways.

She is not Magique.

I do not require my mind’s reverberation to be certain of it now. I still know the fact without a single doubt. But this change across her countenance, from the inside out… This is a new creature, separate and fascinating. I am dazzled, wondering what new, wonderous thing I will discover next about her.

Such as how she likes to be kissed when danger is a thing to be enjoyed.

As soon as the decision stamps my mind, it coils through my actions. Flexes down my arm and into my hand, twisting through the ends of her thick curls. Invades my libido like wildfire, until I am pulling her head back. Rumbles up my throat as I kiss my way along hers, up then down and back again.

So delicious…

It commands my other hand to roam lower, not stopping until I am squeezing her flesh with brutal demand.

So succulent…

Until I am working her harder against me, grinding her trembling crotch along my urgent ridge. Until I am ready to yank down my breeches and hers and then impale myself in her soaking wet channel. And oui, she will be wet. She already is. I hear it in every note of her husky gasps. I feel it in her tightening hold around my neck.

And at last, I receive it in all the passion of her kiss.

So. Perfect.

Our mouths meet and mate. Despite the brief pain because of the cut I endured in my lower lip, I welcome her inside. So fully. So openly. We spread each other wider, wrestling for access to the intimate pocket of where our voices live. Using this fusion to speak instead, with stabbing tongues and swirling wetness. Learning each other…despite all the ways in which we already know each other.

My heart forgets a beat. Another.

I know her. I know her.

Despite all the here and now, there is so much of the then and before. The woman that was there too. Not just the scar I peek down at now, still there at the center of her chest. It is because of other things. Little but not-so-little things. The tiny pink spot at her nape, slightly bruised because she grabs it when she’s nervous. The way she clutches me, curling fingers into my hair until I feel the sweet sting in my scalp. The way she does it again and again, knowing how much I like it.

And, more than all of that, the way she pulls back to gaze at me now.