Earl of Sussex (Wicked Lords of London 0.50)

As dinner finished, the men retired to smoke and Tabbie prepared to wait until it was time for her midnight meeting.

Two hours later she debated changing out of her evening gown, but opted to leave it on. Luke would likely still be in his waistcoat, tailcoat, and cravat and she didn’t want to be at a disadvantage. Her clothing would be like armor. If she were wearing it, this would seem like any other social engagement and not the clandestine meeting it resembled.

Though she had no untoward intentions. Unless, of course, scheming to end an engagement counted as untoward. Which it likely did. But she was not here for a tryst, no matter how handsome he was. Or how his lips tempted her. And certainly not because, despite having only known her for a few hours, he seemed to really see her, to understand who she was beneath the façade she presented as a duke’s daughter.

Perching on a windowsill, she pushed open the glass and stared out at the night sky, a clear spring evening, the moon shining brightly into the room. It bathed her in a pale light and she turned her face up to it, enjoying the quiet this time of night brought.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she took a breath of damp air filtering in from the outside. It gave her a slight chill but in a way that was invigorating. She shivered and goosebumps started forming on her arms, but a smile touched her lips. Meeting with a handsome man to hatch a plot was so exciting.

The slightest noise behind her made her eyes flutter open but before she could even turn, a hand had enveloped her arm and warm breath blew across her cheek. “You look stunning like that, bathed in moonlight.”

Luke. His hand was warm and strong, heating her skin. “That is likely because you lack for a better view.”

“You doubt your own appeal?” His lips grazed her earlobe, sending shivers of a different kind entirely racing along her skin.

“To you? Most decidedly.” Even on her best day she wouldn’t keep the attention of a man like him for very long. Which was exactly why she had to focus on their plot to escape this engagement.

He didn’t back up. If anything, he pressed closer. “You should give yourself more credit, my little Tabbie.”

She turned to speak to him then. But he was so close and as her head twisted, their lips brushed together. It was soft and gentle and a complete accident. Still seated on the sill, she couldn’t go very far, but she wrenched her head back. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to—”

But her words were cut off as his head dipped back down, taking her lips again. This was not the soft brush of moments before, this was a claiming. Soft, yet firm lips pressed against hers, making her pulse race.

His lips left hers for a second only to press against hers again, over and over. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as his hands drifted to her cheeks. His palms held her face as his fingers spread into her hair. Her own hands drifted to his chest, grasping fistfuls of his waistcoat. Without which, she was sure she would go spinning off the sill. His kisses had sent her body careening out of control.

He finally lifted his head and while part of her desperately wanted him to bring his lips back to hers, another saner part fought to gain control of her body. She swallowed. “What just happened?” she managed to croak out.

He was still so close, his hands holding her head, his lips only a few inches from hers. “I kissed you.”

Her eyes focused in a little more. “I’m aware of that. I just didn’t expect it to be so…” Consuming. That was the only word that might describe how she felt now. In this moment, she’d likely give him everything that was hers to offer if he’d only kiss her again.

“Was it better or worse than the kisses before it?” His eyes were narrowing and assessing her with an intensity that was alarming, as though her answer mattered.

“I…” Her cheeks heated. He knew she was a wallflower, but it still embarrassed her to admit the truth. “I don’t have any experience with which to compare.”

He made a sound, rough and masculine, deep in his throat. She didn’t know what it meant but the next moment, he was pulling her up off the sill, wrapping her in his arms as his lips descended again. Over and over they claimed hers until he slanted them open and his tongue slid against hers. If she had heated before, she was aflame now and a moan escaped her lips to be swallowed by his.

His hands slid back up, skimming across her shoulders, brushing her neck, twining into her hair. Her insides ached with need and she pressed against him, the feel of his body increasing the torturous pleasure in the most delightful way.

And then his lips were gone. She blinked, trying to right the tilting room, wishing to find his kiss again. “I didn’t know it would be like that.” Was that her voice? So raspy and wanton?

“Neither did I.” He was still holding her close, his hands in her hair, and his lips grazed her temple.

Her head snapped back, their eyes meeting, the haze of the kiss clearing. “You can’t tell me you haven’t kissed anyone. That is ridiculous.”

His expression was forlorn as he seemed to drink her in with his gaze, devourin

g every detail. “When you are betrothed to your future husband and he kisses you, you will discover that not all kisses are created equal. When your bones don’t melt and the room doesn’t spin, you will understand that this kiss was special.”

“How…how did you know that was how I responded?” Her eyes were round with wonder. Had he read her mind?

“I didn’t. I was talking about me.” He stepped away then, his face pained.

She nearly stumbled as he stopped supporting her and she grabbed the sill so she would remain on her feet. “Oh, I don’t know what to say. I am sure other women have made you feel this way. I—”

“Tabbie.” His voice was rough again, his breathing still ragged. “I am leaving tonight.”

She blinked twice. What was he talking about? “Why? Was it the kiss? I didn’t mean to. It won’t happen again.”