A Wicked Wager (Avenging Lords 2)

Rather than feel frustrated by his sharp intellect, a warm glow of pride filled her chest. “You are extremely alert and quick-witted.”

“As my friends will tell you, my skills in negotiation are legendary. Coupled with my intimidating manner, I always walk away from deals with more than I want.”

A tickle of excitement sparked to life in Juliet’s belly. It gave her an opportunity to forget about the threat from Mr Biggs, if only for a short while. She rose slowly from the chair, moved to stand behind Devlin and placed her hands on his broad shoulders. Even through his coat, the muscles flexed beneath her palms.

“I do not profess to have your skill for negotiation,” she said in a husky voice she could not recall ever using before. “But perhaps I might at least tempt you to consider my proposal.”

“No doubt you could tempt the devil to take confession.”

“I could but try.” Throbbing fingers forced her to touch his skin, to massage the spot just above the collar of his coat, up into his hair.

A pleasurable hum resonated in his chest as he relaxed his head into her hands. “What is it you want me to do, Juliet? For I doubt our thoughts are aligned.”

He was wrong. The spicy scent of his cologne teased her nostrils. Touching him stoked the fire within. But while her body craved this man, her mind was determined to ensure he did not meet Biggs alone.

“A comment my father made leads me to wonder if he wants something else besides Hannah’s letters.” Juliet rubbed his temples in a circular motion. “And so I think we should test the theory out on Mr Biggs.”

One coherent word cut through Devlin’s relaxed breathing. “We?”

Juliet bent her head and whispered in his ear, “I shall forge a letter from Hannah and hand it to Mr Biggs. It will give us an opportunity—”

“Like hell you will.” In three swift moves her husband shot out of the chair, gripped both her hands and swung her around until her bottom perched on the edge of the table.

“At least give me a chance to explain.”

He towered above her, so dark, so menacing, and yet she was more aroused than frightened. “I’ll not let that rogue lay a hand on you again.” His mouth came crushing down on hers, so urgent, so possessive. Blazing lips locked her in a scorching embrace.

Juliet relished the taste. Perhaps it was the potent essence of the wine that made her dizzy. Delirious. Perhaps it was the sizzling energy in the air that robbed her of all rational thought. She clutched his shoulders as their tongues fought a wild and intense battle for control.

Pure, unadulterated lust rendered them both incapable of forming a word.

He delved deeper into her mouth as he pushed her farther back onto the table. Cutlery clattered on the china plate. A crystal goblet toppled over, splashing wine on her dress. A cool breeze drifted over her legs as Devlin bunched her skirts up past her thighs.

“Do you want me to stop?” he said, tearing his mouth from hers. “Tell me now while I still have a grip on the last thread of control.”

Gasping for breath, Juliet placed her hand on his heart. The organ thudded against her palm. Taking him into her body brought comfort as well as immense pleasure.

“My mother told me relations always took place in bed. I cannot recall her ever mentioning a piano, a ballroom floor or a dining table.”

Guilt flashed in his eyes. “Forgive me. Sometimes the savage part of my character overrules all else.”

She could sense his retreat. Oh, she had said the wrong thing. “No, you misunderstand.” Juliet reached for the buttons securing the fall of his breeches. “It excites me that you lack the control to wait. It makes me feel that you desire me.”

A sinful smile replaced the brief look of shame. Hot hands slid up under her skirts to cup her buttocks. “Oh, I desire you more than you know. Say you want to redefine what it means to take dessert.”

Despite trembling fingers, she undid a button. “When I think of tasting anything rich and moorish, I shall think of your mouth. But promise me, when we settle down for a glass of port, that you will listen to my proposal.”

Devlin bent his head and traced her lips with the tip of his tongue before thrusting inside. The kiss lasted seconds though it tugged at the muscles deep in her core.

“I promise to give your plan my full consideration,” he said in a rich, husky voice that never failed to heat her blood. “I promise that once we have dealt with Biggs, I shall do whatever is necessary to ease your fears.”

His words were like an aphrodisiac. One minute they were kissing, the next he was filling her full, sliding in and out of her hungry body in a slow, seductive rhythm. The maddening ache for him grew in intensity. Wrapping her legs more firmly about his waist, she urged him to hurry. It was not her pleasure she sought. But she would see the look of satisfaction banish the darkness from his eyes. She would see every flicker of emotion on his face, feel the power in every sleek stroke.

The clatter of crockery behind only inflamed her desire. They were wild, reckless, bound together by the hand of fate. Never had she felt so ravenous. Never had she experienced emotions so profound.

“God, Juliet,” he panted. “You drive me insane.”

He pounded harder, faster, again and again and again. His hand edged under her skirt, the soft pad of his thumb circling the one place desperate for his touch.