of my erection. She whimpered as I nibbled her bottom lip, her fingers moving up my arms, and over my shoulders. Her hands were not made to shovel ash, or do laundry. They were made for caressing, stroking. When she finally sank into me, those heavy breasts crushing to my chest, I almost tossed her onto the seat and took her.
More.
The passion that roared through me was almost unbearable. I needed to deepen the kiss. Needed to taste her…all of her. With a growl, I brushed my thumb over her chin. She parted her lips with a sigh. I took the opportunity to thrust my tongue into her warmth. This was no innocent missus. She wrapped her tongue around mine, rubbing, stroking, deepening the kiss like an expert. And I knew it would be good between us. So damn good.
But a kiss wasn’t enough. Damnation, it wasn’t enough. As I tore my mouth from hers, I slid my hand under her skirts, up her woolen stocking. Silk. She needed to be in silks. “Think about it, Ginny. Think about how good it would be.”
“No, I won’t,” she whimpered in response, squirming against me.
I found the smooth skin where her stocking ended. Farther still my hand traveled to the slit in her bloomers. Heat radiated from her core. I teased the opening, my fingers dancing across the nest of curls shielding her femininity. She groaned as my knuckles brushed her there, the very place where she throbbed.
“You will,” I whispered back. “You will think about it every night. Memories of this moment will keep you awake and restless.”
The carriage slowed, stopped. She didn’t notice, but tightened her arms around my neck and nestled closer to me. Dear God, I could have had her, but I didn’t want her this way. Not rushed in the carriage. I wanted her in my bed, where I could savor her.
With all the strength I could gather, I somehow managed to pull away. The look in her eyes was part confusion and desire, a heady combination that ate at my determination.
“Wh…what?”
“Not here.”
Reality dawned. Embarrassed, she scrambled off my lap and collapsed onto the seat across from me. Her breath came out in rapid pants that I feared matched my own. I shifted, grimacing, as I tried to regain control of my desires. Hell, I hadn’t been this aroused in years. Ever. The realization left me feeling more than uncomfortable. She was supposed to be a means to an end. I had the disturbing feeling that I would be the only one who would be awake and restless tonight.
The sounds of the town pierced the carriage walls.
Her wide, frantic gaze went to the window. “Where are we?”
The door opened. My footman stood to the side, awaiting our decent. Already a small crowd of needy had gathered, hoping for a coin tossed their way. Their desperation was thick, suffocating.
“We’re in the slums,” I said.
She stiffened. “Why?”
Hell, I could barely remember.
She leaned forward, her gaze piercing, angry. With such hatred in her eyes, it was hard to believe she was pawing at me moments ago. “Why?”
“Because,” I snapped, annoyed with her, annoyed with everyone. Annoyed with the entire situation. But mostly annoyed with the fact that I was highly and thoroughly aroused and could do nothing about it. “This is where you’ll end up, Ginny. If you don’t accept my offer.”
The sensual flush upon her cheeks faded. Her eyes went hard as stone. “You think to frighten me? Think again, my lord. I grew up on these streets. I’ve seen things that would make even you blush. You can’t scare me with poverty.”
She darted toward the door.
I reached out, gripping her upper arm and jerking her back onto my lap, her bottom pressed to my hard erection. “And what about your future? Think of what you could have, what you could do, who you could help.”
She paused, her lower lip quivering, her eyes flashing with uncertainty. And for a moment, I thought I had her. I should have known better. Stubborn wench.
“You can’t miss what you never had, my lord.” She jerked away from me and jumped out the door, landing deftly upon the footpath. “Besides, I’d rather live in the slums than be your mistress.”
Like an agile cat, she darted forward, disappearing into the crowds, and I could do nothing more than watch her go, because although she might belong here, I didn’t. The door closed.