What a Duke Dares (Sons of Sin 3)

“I’ve thought of you too.”

He backed her into a conveniently placed tree and touched her in earnest. Learning the curve of waist and hip, the slender line of her back. Careful of her innocence, he kept his hips from sliding against hers.

Her hands slid daringly lower. Astonished gratification shook him, although those eager fingers digging into his buttocks threatened control.

He stared at her through dazed eyes. Passion flushed her creamy skin and her blue eyes were heavy with desire. She looked rosy and approachable, a different creature from the golden-haired debutante he’d first met. She wore a cobalt walking dress, fastened down the front with hussar frogging and with a high collar, askew thanks to Harry’s attentions.

He rested his forehead against hers, sharing her breath. She smelled marvelous. Like the vibrant spring that burst into life around them. She’d brought him to life. He wondered if she knew.

“Harry?” He caught the confusion in her voice.

He lifted his head. “Sophie, I’m trying to act the gentleman.”

She smiled, her lips moist and swollen. “You don’t have to.”

He groaned. He really didn’t need to hear her say that. Not if he meant to retain some honor. “Of course I do.”

Her smile broadened and the light in her blue eyes filled his world with color. More, painted his world with rainbows. “I want you to touch me.”

“You test my restraint.” He kissed her again, hot and voracious. His heart crashed against his ribs as she curled into him.

“I don’t want to be restrained.” She clutched his shoulders.

With shaking hands, he parted the frogging on her dress. He’d take things a little further then stop. Dear heaven, let him find the strength to stop.

Control shuddered closer to fraying as her dress sagged open. The pink pearls of her nipples pushed against her delicate shift. With a groan, he bent and sucked one perfect bud. Her choked cry echoed in his ears. Knowing he ventured toward the point of no return, he cupped her other breast and rubbed his palm across her nipple. She arched until her belly bumped him.

With sudden ruthlessness, he pushed the lacy edge down to reveal her breasts. Better than his dreams. Thoughts of her nakedness had fueled his fantasies, waking and sleeping, since he’d found her crying in Lord Oldhaven’s garden. He drew back to feast upon the sight.

“You’re so beautiful.” Reverently he stroked her pale skin.

He kissed the tip of her breast. The act conveyed homage more than desire, although desire surged powerful enough to shake his principles.

She breathed unsteadily. “I feel beautiful when I’m with you.” She bit her lip. “I never have before.”

Her vulnerability defeated the ravening beast inside him. Grateful and disappointed in equal measure, he sighed and stepped back. Because he loved her, he said what he’d always known to be true. “You deserve better than me.”

She looked suddenly distraught. “Have I disgusted you?”

Harry’s gut lurched. If anyone should feel ashamed, it was him. “Hell, no, Sophie. You’re glorious, perfect, an angel.”

With shaking hands, she tugged at her bodice but the complicated fastenings were beyond her. “No angel lets a man strip her naked in public.”

“Sophie, you’re human.” Very gently—and with a wicked regret that he couldn’t stifle—he restored her to respectability.

“A little too human today,” she muttered.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Desire is perfectly natural.” It was too early for declarations. They’d only known each other a few weeks, and their meetings had been short and snatched from the teeth of scandal. But she needed to know that he wasn’t toying with her. “Desire is part of… love.”

She went completely still. Her hands dropped to her sides and her eyes opened wide as if she strove to see him with absolute clarity, perhaps to check whether he lied. “Love, Harry?”

Hell, he hadn’t blushed since he was in the nursery. Meeting her eyes, he spoke with the steadiness of complete conviction. “I love you, Sophie.”

To his consternation, she didn’t smile.

She took a long time to answer, which worried him even more.

Had he mistaken her? Trepidation sank sharp teeth into him. She could be flirting. After all, she enjoyed her first season and flattery had turned the heads of girls less admired than Sophie. Perhaps she collected hearts like trophies. The thought made him feel sick.