Taming the Rake Read online

  She obeyed, enjoying the way her breasts strained against his chest. She wanted to arch her back and rub against him like a cat. Her mouth was only inches from his. He smelled delicious. Like mint, fresh air, and something entirely masculine.

  “Now kiss me,” he ordered calmly, but she could see the effort it was taking him to remain still. To make no move toward her.

  Slowly, she leaned toward him, placing a tentative kiss on his lower lip. He went completely rigid. She tried again, this time squarely pressing her lips to his. She frowned when he still did not return her kiss. Until she noticed the tic behind his jaw.

  A slow smile curved her lips. With the tip of her finger she traced the hard angles of his handsome face, savoring the moment of recognition: He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. He liked what she was doing to him, but he wasn’t going to make it easy on her. He could try to feign coldness, but she wouldn’t allow him to deny their passion.

  She leaned toward him again, but this time she slid her tongue along the crease of his mouth, savoring the dark, sinfully delicious taste of him.

  His restraint snapped. He attacked, taking her mouth hostage in a violent embrace. His fingers laced through her loosened hair to grip the back of her head, pulling her mouth to his in a deep, openmouthed, no-holds-barred kiss. She felt the hot slide of his tongue as it delved into her mouth, demanding her intimate response. His passion was hot and furious, leaving her no doubt. He wanted her. Badly. With a frenzy and wildness that belied his attempts at coldness.

  A hot band of satisfaction curled low in her belly.

  No longer a novice, she met each parry with a thrust of her own. Sinking deeper and deeper into frantic oblivion until her senses were overpowered with the need of him. Until her hands roamed the wide expanse of his shoulders, wanting to feel him. To get closer still.

  He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, until her lips were swollen and her cheeks burned from the scratch of his day-old beard. Until the gentle tingling warmth between her legs clutched with sweet frustration. She wanted him to touch her there again, to press his fingers inside her, to relieve the clawing need that would not let her go.

  When he lifted his head, his blue eyes were dark as onyx and his breathing had become hard and fast. She could feel his manhood straining against her bottom. She shifted against him, settling his massive strength between her legs. She yearned to sink onto him, desperately craving the heavy thickness inside her. He was big and as hard as a rock wedged solidly between her thighs. His shape seemed to fit her perfectly.

  She moved again against him, sliding back and forth along his considerable length. The swell of pleasure was nearly unbearable. He groaned and pressed against her. The tingling between her legs intensified, greedily demanding more. Faster, harder, she rubbed against him, wanting to weep with relief, having found what she craved, relishing the burgeoning sensation of pleasure. Her head fell back as she gave herself over to the magical rhythm. The pressure built, her heart rate climbed, and she was tantalizingly close to reliving the shattering pleasure she’d experienced in the card room.

  He made a sound of agony and lifted her off his lap.

  Stricken, she stared at him. “Did I do something wrong.”

  “No,” he said tightly.

  “Then what is it?”

  “Nothing.” He swore then met her gaze. A slow, devious smile curled his lips. “It’s time to take off your clothes, Lady Georgina. I want you naked when I take you.”

  He’d said it harsher than was necessary, but she was driving him mad with lust, and to hell if he was going to make it easy on her. The sensation of his cock wedged between her thighs with her grinding against him, even separated by clothing, was too much. The fact that she’d discovered how to find her own pleasure made it that much worse. Watching as she pleasured herself had been one of the most deeply erotic moments of his life. How could he resist such innate sensuality? He couldn’t. It was a priceless treasure that belonged to him.

  He wanted to challenge her, but instead she was driving him mad with lust. If only she would run before he refused to let her go.

  Her face flooded with color at his demand. “But surely… I mean…” Flustered, she didn’t know what to say. He knew her freshly minted passion was warring with her sense of delicacy and modesty.

  “It would please me.” Remembering his goal to drive her away, he added crudely, “I want to see what I’ll be getting.”

  Something flashed across her face. Hurt perhaps, before her mouth tightened angrily in response to his challenge. Her green eyes blazed.

  “Is there enough light in here?” she asked sarcastically. “I could call Jennings to turn on a few lamps. I wouldn’t want you to feel like you didn’t get a proper look.”

  He cleared his throat, trying to keep a straight face. She would not discourage easily. He was surprised to realize how much it pleased him. “That won’t be necessary.”

  Indeed, even with the heavy curtains pulled closed there was plenty of light.

  He held his breath as she finished unbuttoning the pelisse that he’d already half undone.

  Studying her, he realized that he’d probably done her a favor. Anger at his harsh words had replaced her uncertainty and seemed to bolster her courage. Her hands were steady, her movements deliberate, her face impassive. Gina was no blushing schoolgirl, but a woman full of pride and confidence, almost daring him to find fault. Sliding the pelisse off her shoulders, she carefully placed it on the edge of the divan.

  She walked back around to stand right in front of him. With a stubborn toss of her chin, she looked him straight in the eye. “I’m afraid I shall need some help with my gown.” She spun around so that her slim, straight back was facing him. He resisted the urge to wrap his hands around her tiny waist. Deftly he worked the pins and ties, ignoring the increasing rate of his heartbeat as anticipation coiled inside him.

  The unevenness of his breath gave him away.

  Turning back around to face him, a calculated gleam in her eye, she slipped the short sleeves down past her shoulders one at a time. She seemed to be moving excruciatingly slow, holding his gaze the entire time, as if she disrobed for a man every day of the week. As if she knew how much the mere act of taking off her clothes excited him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. He’d be damned if she wasn’t getting the hang of it. The woman was a born coquette.

  Finally, the gown bunched at her middle and all that remained above her waist were her stays and a thin—very thin—chemise. Coventry stopped breathing. The perfection of her body stunned him. She was all lush curves and slim contours. Her breasts were large and round, standing high above a flat stomach and tiny waist. He made a choking sound and she smiled, aware of the powerful effect she had on him.

  Shimmying her gown and petticoat down over her narrow hips, she stepped aside, carefully picking them up and laying them next to her discarded pelisse. She gave him her back again and silently he helped her with the stays, trying to ignore the perfect round shape of her bottom and the sudden urge to clutch her hips and slide deep inside her from behind. Later.

  Stays unlaced, his fingers itched to cup her luscious breasts as he freed them from their silk and bone bindings.

  He could dispense with this self-imposed torture and simply rip her chemise down the middle. Perhaps guessing his intent, she stepped out of his reach and perched on the edge of the divan to remove her half boots.

  His heart stopped.

  Leaning over, her breasts spilled forward, nearly escaping the fragile bonds of her chemise. The lush swell of flawless ivory flesh was perfectly visible in silhouette and achingly tempting. An image of her on top of him, arching against him with those glorious round breasts bouncing in his face… He nearly reached out and touched her. Instead his fists curled into tight balls at his side, and he forced his gaze to the task at hand.

  But there was no escape, even watching her remove her boots proved enticing. Mesmerized, he noticed how tiny her feet were,