The Cursed Countess (The Daring Drake Sisters 1)

“He’s a duke, you fool, and has been like a father to me for the past six years. If I had rejected his offer, he would have assumed there was something improper between us.”

His lips curled upwards. “Why were you staring at me during dinner?”

“I—I...don’t know,” she whispered.

“Yes, you do,” he said, leaning in closer. “You want me.”

“Maybe I want the duke in my bed.” As soon as she said those lying words, she regretted them. His face darkened as he walked her backwards toward the bed.

“You want yet another man over twice your age in your bed?” he asked harshly before leaning in closer. “Is that what excites you?”

“No,” she whispered suddenly fearful of his next move.

“Can your duke do this to you?”

Before she could consider his words, his mouth slanted over hers. Not a sweet or even lustful kiss, his lips were hard and punishing as if jealousy controlled him. She cupped his rough face with her hands. Opening her mouth to him, he plunged his tongue in to do battle but his opponent was ready for him. She fought his tongue for dominance and control, but he was having no part of it.

Cool air swept up her legs as he lifted the hem of her night rail until his hand cupped her derriere, squeezing and caressing until she moaned for more. She wanted him deep inside her, quenching this fire that raged in her body. She didn’t care if she hadn’t even known him a week, or even if he would eventually break her heart. Her only concern right now was satisfaction.

His fingers moved around her hip until he found the apex of her thighs and plunged into her moist folds.

“Damn, you are so ready,” he murmured as his lips trailed down her neck. “Do you want me inside you, Tessa?”

“Oh, please, Raynerson, please.”

“Jack. Call me Jack.” His lips kissed her collarbone.

“Jack,” she muttered. She couldn’t even think as a finger found that pleasure point between her shaky legs. She felt him smile against her neck when he slipped another finger deep inside her. “Jack,” she mumbled unable to think of anything but him and this passion trying to burn her to a crisp. “Please.”

“Please, what?”

“I don’t know...oh,” she cried when he pushed her down on the bed. He quickly whipped the night rail off her and stared down at her.

“Dear God, you are beautiful.”

“I want to undress you,” she whispered, staring up at him. Not one of her husbands had allowed her to undress them. They had come to her in their dressing gowns, rutted with her and then left her. She wanted far more than that tonight.

His lips drew into a smile. “By all means.”

Tessa rose from the bed and then focused on the knot of his cravat. After unwinding the white cloth from his neck, she kissed his pulse drumming there. She slipped his jacket and waistcoat from him and paused, staring at the breadth of his chest.

“You’re not fini

shed yet,” he whispered.

“Apparently not,” she replied, tugging his shirt from the waistband of his trousers. She perused his chest, all angles and hard planes, before tracing her finger along the muscles. She wondered how man achieved such a perfect body. A fine line of brown hair disappeared into his trousers. She trailed her index finger down the line until she reached the waistband. Fumbling with the falls of his trousers, he finally pushed her hands away.

“You are taking far too long.”

Her eyes widened when he slid his trousers over his hips. She couldn’t help but stare at his hard, long shaft as he removed his drawers.

“Lay down, Tessa.”

She nodded, still staring at his manhood as she lowered herself back to the bed. The only time she could look at her husbands’ shafts was when they wanted her to take them in her mouth.

“Can the duke give you this?” Before she could answer, he slid her hips to the edge of the bed and plunged deep inside her.

She gasped as he filled her in one swift movement. She wrapped her legs around his hips bringing him even deeper inside her. How could this possibly feel so right with a man she barely knew? None of this made any sense. This man should mean nothing to her. And yet, as she skimmed her hands over his broad shoulders and down his arms, nothing had ever felt more natural.