To Bed a Beauty (Courtship Wars 2)

Roslyn pulled in a deep, shuddering breath, finding it impossible to move. His masterful hands knew just how to arouse, to excite, to delight.

“Your grace,” she finally repeated in a shaken voice.

“Hush, let me pleasure you.”

She tried futilely once more to resist, but his arm came around her, locking her lightly to him. Bending her backward a little, he lowered his head to her breast, closing his mouth over the distended tip.

The shock of sensation was overwhelming. Her knees had felt unsteady before, but now they nearly buckled. Thankfully he supported her as he suckled the pebbled bud.

Roslyn shut her eyes helplessly. She felt her pulse pounding in her throat as sweet pleasure seared her. His mouth was burning hot, devastatingly wicked, his tongue laving, swirling, circling…coaxing, demanding a response from her.

His sensual assault was all male, primitive and commanding, and roused a primal feminine need in her that she couldn’t deny. Her body came alive for him just as he intended. She had never been kissed this way, never been touched this way.

When he drew her nipple between his teeth, biting down lightly, the delicious eroticism further weakened her, further thrilled her. When he soothed the aching crest with his tongue, with his lips, a fresh shiver of delight rippled down her body, making her spine arch.

He took advantage of her helplessness. Still nipping and nibbling, he eased her thighs apart, wedging his knee between hers. Her stomach clenched in a tight knot of sensation as his powerful thigh pressed through her thin gown, against her woman’s mound. She wore small panniers on her hips, which puffed out the sides, but there was little barrier in front to protect her from the intimate knowledge of his body. She could feel his maleness, the hard, swollen arousal that pressed teasingly against her abdomen.

Her head swam, drugged with the heady sweetness. A spiraling pleasure spread into the very depths of her, turning her body boneless and inciting a deep throb between her legs. In the hollow of her secret flesh, a moist heat seeped.

She almost cried out in disappointment when the duke finally ceased his ministrations. When his hot mouth left her breasts, she opened her eyes to discover she was clinging to his shoulders.

She felt the cool night air tingle across her wet nipples, along with the sensual rasp of his voice as he murmured, “I could show you pleasure you will never forget.”

She believed him. Then he lifted his head, and she met his dark gaze. His eyes were smoldering, intense, triumphant.

Seeing that possessive look made heat flood Roslyn all over again. It was all she could do not to melt into his arms once more. Indeed, it took all her willpower to push her palms against his broad chest and stand upright on her own.

Her wits were still scattered, her heart still hammering hard against her ribs, but she forced herself to inject a faint note of scorn in her voice as she determinedly replied, “I am afraid your offer isn’t tempting enough. If I wish to find a protector, I can do better than an arrogant lord who thinks he need only to snap his fingers to have women fall swooning at his feet.”

Her mocking declaration had the desired effect of making him release her entirely. Grateful for her success, Roslyn stepped back, fumbling with her bodice, trying to repair her wanton disarray.

Drawing the silk up to cover the throbbing peaks of her breasts, Roslyn managed to school her expression to cool dispassion as she surveyed him. “Do me the kindness of believing my sincerity, your grace. I do not wish you to follow me again.”

His expression of disbelief was pricele

ss, she thought, stifling a shaky laugh. She supposed it was a victory of sorts-leaving the elegant, imperious Duke of Arden with his jaw hanging down.

Deciding not to push her luck, however, Roslyn turned on weak limbs and moved past him through the window, stepping down into the curtained alcove. She felt a trembling sense of relief when he didn’t follow her, yet she was still breathing hard, her heart thudding as if she had run a great distance, her body overheated.

Leaving the alcove, she hurried along the darkened gallery, making her escape like Cinderella fleeing the ball at midnight. It wasn’t until she reached the far end that she remembered dropping her bonnet again. But she wasn’t about to risk retrieving it. She had to find Fanny and tender her excuses. She was going home to Danvers Hall at once. It was too dangerous for her to remain at the ball any longer. Indeed, she was foolish to have come in the first place, Roslyn admitted.

And yet…

She paused as she reached the ballroom doors. She could still feel the burning imprint of the duke’s mouth on hers, still feel his lips suckling her aching nipples. She would never forget his incredible kisses, his erotic caresses-

Have you completely lost your wits? a scolding inner voice finally intervened.

Stepping into the ballroom, Roslyn blinked in the bright light. She was utterly disgusted with herself. She had set her sights on another nobleman entirely. She couldn’t possibly be attracted to the arrogant Duke of Arden!

Even so, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret that she would miss the opportunity he had offered her, to have him demonstrate his amorous skills. Undeniably it would have been an eye-opening experience, to spend one night in his arms.

Her sense of the absurd returning suddenly, Roslyn shook her head wryly. She had spent the last four years fending off unwanted advances, and she was too much of a lady to change that now. Not to mention that becoming Arden’s mistress for even one night would totally ruin her as a prospective bride for any other gentleman.

Just then, she spied Fanny dancing with an armored knight. Ignoring the laughter and gaiety emanating from the crowd, Roslyn plunged into the throng.

She had no doubt now that Arden was a marvelous lover. A pity she didn’t dare risk examining his expertise more closely for herself.

Chapter Two