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How to Marry a Marquess (Wedded by Scandal 3)

Page 35

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With a harsh groan, he tugged her closer, their lips scant inches apart. “You are a babe at the game you’re attempting to play. If only you knew how easy it would be for you to be devoured, I wonder, my dear Evie, if you would

then tread with more caution.”

Sudden nerves erupted in her stomach. “Richard, I—”

He swallowed her words. Oh. His kiss was so gentle, quite at odds with the manner in which he held her, as if he wanted to push her down on the cushions and ravish her. He caught her lower lip between his teeth and stroked over it with his tongue. A hungry whimper broke from her throat. He pulled his lips from her. “Dammit, I truly cannot… I am holding on by a mere gossamer thread. I desire you too much.”

He desires me? “How long?” she breathed. “How long have you wanted me?”

“Six years,” he ground out, his eyes flashing with dangerous fire. “If I ever kiss you again, I will take you, consequences be damned. I’m not the man you knew, Evie. I’m not bound by society’s rule of conduct and their vague notions of honor. I have my own code…immoral to most, and there are days I question my character.” His hands tightened on her hips. “I will not be persuaded to a union because I take what you are freely offering.”

She raised trembling fingers to touch his beautiful mouth. It physically hurt to crave him so much. “I’ve been waiting in agony and hope for your kisses. Foolish and reckless of me, but at this moment, I do not want to be dutiful…not now.”

He brushed the lightest of kisses across her mouth. Her lips tingled and burned. His taste was evocative. He bit gently into her bottom lip, and she whimpered.

He swore violently, and then he plundered. Oh God. He stole the air from her lungs and turned her thoughts to mush as he claimed her mouth in another kiss. He took her lower lip between his teeth and bit down gently, teasing her lips to part with soft nibbles and hot, urgent kisses. With a moan, Evie opened her mouth, and his tongue thrust boldly in to tangle with hers.

They parted, breathing raggedly. “I could taste you forever and not want anything else to sustain me.”

Her breath hitched at his fervent whisper. His fingers trailed to her jaw, where he cradled her cheeks in his palms and stole her breath with another kiss. He alternately savored and consumed. She sighed deeply. The drugging heat of his kiss couldn’t be denied, and she responded to his sensual mastery helplessly. Each nip and kiss went deeper, lingered longer, became wetter, more carnal, and enmeshed her heart even more.

Somehow, she ended up draped halfway across his lap, her fingers clutched tightly in his hair, and his hands, dear Lord, his hands were sliding her dress up her thighs with shocking and exciting boldness.

He released her mouth to press kisses against her shoulder, her chin, down to the sensitive hollow of her throat. Richard shifted with her, lowering her back onto the cushions, splitting her legs open and moving between them, predatory heat glowing in his eyes. A wild, dangerous charge emanated from him, lighting every nerve in her body. She trembled with the instinct to surrender to his magnetic pull. An unfamiliar sensation fluttered low in her stomach, and a sharp tremor of uncertainty quivered through her.

His fingers trailed with alarming intent up the inside of her legs to her thighs, leaving fire in their wake. Evie was grateful for the semi darkness of the carriage, certain her entire body was blushing red. The teasing strokes of his fingers as they dragged along the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs had the sweetest pressure building between her legs.

“I ache…Richard.” Her voice was a whisper, but it elicited an answering groan from deep in his throat.

“Here?” he murmured, cupping her in a place she had never been touched.

Evie bucked and shivered at the piercing arousal that stabbed low in her stomach. “Yes,” she said on a sob.

His wicked fingers parted her and touched the intimate heart of her. She froze, panting, as unknown sensations erupted deep inside.

A ragged groan burst from him. “You’re so wet.” With a tender glide of his fingertip, he stroked over her aching folds with delicacy.

Her breathing fractured and her mind muddled. He shifted, pushing her knees up and splaying her wantonly wide. His head dipped, and she jerked in acute shock to feel the waft of his breath across her core. “Rich…Richard?” she stuttered and unsuccessfully tried to clamp her legs closed.

His powerful forearms, which held her splayed open, prevented her action. He nipped at her thigh, causing her to whimper with the edge of pleasure-pain.

“Hold still,” he commanded tenderly.

The provocative stab of his tongue against her wet sex sent shockwaves of delight through her blood. Sweet heavens. This cannot be decent. Unexpected hunger crawled over her skin with wicked heat. She moaned and twisted, suddenly hotter than she could bear. His tongue was a soothing glide over her pulsating flesh, and the onslaught of sensations was overwhelming.

Her entire body quaked. “Richard!”

His tongue licked over her, teasing her aching swollen nub. Evie almost jackknifed from the carriage seat, her breath escaping in shuddering gasps. He raked his teeth over her straining nub, then licked it hard. She whimpered and rocked against his face, lost in pleasure, straining for an elusive bliss that had her stomach twisted into an aching knot of need.

There was a lurch as the carriage rolled over a bump in the road. Richard stopped his maddening torment and sat up, tugging her dress down. Evie felt fevered, restless, and desperate for the ache to be assuaged. “Richard?” she asked, hating the tremble of uncertainty in her voice.

He shifted the blinds of the carriage, and a curse slipped from him. She sat in a daze as he thrust his head through the window and commanded the coachman to another location. He settled back, his piercing gaze studying every nuance of her face. Her gaze dipped to the front of his trousers where an impressive bulge had made itself evident.

She leaned forward and touched his thigh lightly. “Rich—”

“Do not touch me, Evie,” he all but snarled. “I cannot resist you, and so help me God, I will not take you in a damn carriage.”

She snatched her hand away as if a bee had stung her, blinking back confused tears. “I…I feel so needy, but I do not know what I need,” she confessed shakily. “I throb there.”



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