Who Wants a Brawling Baron (Romancing the Rake 6)

“Yes. How did you know?” Her lips were inches under his now as she tilted her chin up to look at him.

“A hunch,” he murmured and then he dropped his mouth lower until their mouths almost touched. “And now you want to fill that ache.”

“Yes,” she said, searching his face. “But I can’t be foolish. I will have to marry. If I can’t participate in society and I don’t have a husband I would be so very…lonely.”

He brushed his mouth against hers. So soft. He still held her ankle as her feet settled on either side of his knees. He could just lie down on top of her, push them both back in the sand and then he’d be cradled between her legs. He kissed her again. His cock was stiff as a board and his mind muddled with desire. He wanted that so much. To lose himself in this woman. “One more kiss. Just for a minute. And then that’s it.”

“One more,” she repeated and then said nothing else as his mouth covered hers, slanting hers open so that he might brush his tongue to hers.

Her arms threaded about his neck, and without even realizing it, he did exactly what he imagined. They tumbled back, his manhood nestling into her soft mound. They both groaned as he shifted to place even more pressure where he was sure she needed it most.

Her legs wrapped about his, her skirts completely tangling, as he pumped against her, the friction, even with all their clothes on, causing them both to moan again.

She broke away. “You didn’t tell me about this part.”

Instead of answering, he captured her mouth again. This part wasn’t his to teach. It belonged to the man who would call her “wife” and a stab of guilt punctured the haze of lust. He was stealing this away.

But then another, more possessive emotion roared inside him. No other man would touch her. She belonged with him.

Where the hell had that come from?

He lifted up, looking down at her, her eyes unfocused, her mouth puffy, her arms still threaded about his neck. He couldn’t keep her. He’d made a vow. But neither did he want to let her go.

Chapter Eight

Charlie attempted to concentrate but it was so difficult with his large, strong body pressed to hers. His hand was behind her back and he held her stomach tight to his even as something hard rubbed her most sensitive area, sending tendrils of pleasure spiraling through her core.

She wanted more.

He gazed down at her, his dark eyes almost smoky with heat and she tightened her legs, wrapped about his, causing more pleasure to zip through her. Her lips parted as she drew in a shuddering breath. Her head fell back and her back arched higher.

“Raithe,” she whispered, testing the name again. It suited him and she liked the feel of it on her tongue. “I want…” She didn’t know how to finish that thought but he seemed to understand how to answer it.

He slid his hand lower, from the small of her back to her behind, and pushed them tighter together. A wave of pleasure coursed through her and she gripped his scalp tighter, her fingers threading into his hair as she pulled at the strands. “How did you know to do that?”

He began kissing a trail down her neck, his lips sliding over her flesh, making her shiver. “That is but one small touch that I know to bring you pleasure, my sweet little minx. There are so many more.”

“More?” Her eyes fluttered closed as he pushed against her again, creating a rhythm that sent wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her body, pushing her pleasure higher and higher. “I don’t know if I could take more.”

He squeezed one of her round cheeks even as he pressed and rubbed, making her body shudder with longing. “You, Charlie, are meant for sin. Not only could you take it…” He trailed off as his lips reached the neckline of her dress, and he pushed it down, revealing a bit more of her skin. “You’d absolutely bloom under a man’s hands. By God, I want to see all of you. Kiss every inch…”

The very idea of his skin sliding against hers, his lips kissing her everywhere... Something inside her heaved and then shattered, her body cresting over and pleasure erupting inside her.

She gasped, clutching him, as a moan tore from her lips. He held her tight until she softened, going limp under his. “Raithe?”

He didn’t move. Rather, he nuzzled her neck, his fingers sliding from her backside up to the top of her back. “Charlie, you make the most beautiful noises.”

She combed her fingers through his hair. “Noises?” She gave her head a tiny shake. “That’s something you actually like?”

He chuckled into the crook of her neck. “The education continues.” Then he lifted his head and gave her a long lingering kiss. “I liked them very much.”

“Is it the same for a man? The finish?”

He grinned down at her. “The same. And different.”

She nibbled at her lip. “I am curious to know—”

“No,” he said, lifting up. “That is an education for the man who marries you.” How had he known what she would ask? She wanted to see more of Raithe. Feel more, and honestly, hear more.