Her Virtuous Viscount - Scarlett Scott Page 0,27

head, searching his stare with hers. “You never did say why we are in the library.”

“This seemed a better place to converse without being overheard,” he managed.

Talking was the last thing on his mind just now.

His entire body was aflame.

All from her nearness, her touch.

She kissed his jaw. Just the fluttery touch of her lips as light as a butterfly upon his skin. That was all. And yet that simple gesture sent lust careening through him. The urge to possess her was stronger than ever. Had he ever felt this intensity, this craving, for another?

He could honestly say he had not. But that was to be expected, was it not? There was desire and there was love. Two separate entities.

“What did you wish to speak about?” she whispered, pressing another kiss to the corner of his lips.

The generous swell of her bosom was crushed into his chest. His cock had burrowed into the pliant softness of her belly. By God, she did not seem to be wearing a corset this evening. How was he just realizing it now? His hands investigated her waist, confirming he felt no boning, no stays. Only luscious feminine curves.

“Strangely enough, I have no wish to speak after all,” he admitted, and then he took her mouth.

He kissed her deeply. Thoroughly. Kissed her with the promise of passion burning within. She clutched him, her fingers pressing into his shoulders, the halfmoons of her nails scoring him through his own layers. Her tongue was there, rubbing sinuously against his. The kiss turned hotter. Wetter. More vividly carnal.

Until he forgot where he was. Forgot why he must not take this woman here and now. Forgot everything but the need to be inside her. Deep inside her.

He moved them, guiding her backward, until her back hit the shelves of books. The scent of leather and paper mingled with the rich notes of tuberose and jasmine. His fingers sank into the fall of her skirts. Panniers were no match for a man of his determination. Her gown was hiked to her waist before he ended the kiss.

“I want you,” he told her.

“Yes.” She nodded, her golden curls, trapped in an elegant updo, catching on the books behind her. “Now.”

Now? Hell, yes.

Never let it be said he was not a man who could accept the demands of his woman. “Hold your hems.”

She blinked, her mouth deliciously swollen from their kisses, her pupils dilated wide. Hyacinth took them from him. He tugged on her bodice and her nipples sprang free. Ripe, pink, puckered. Tom lowered his head and took a plump bud in his mouth while his fingers found the slit in her drawers. He parted her folds to find her warm and wet. So very wet. He slicked her juices over her pearl, working the tender nubbin until she gasped and her hips pumped hungrily against him.

He was a feral beast now, intent upon having not just what he wanted but giving her everything she wanted as well. He wanted to please her until she screamed with her release. Wanted to make her come a dozen times before he stuffed his cock inside her drenched cunny and fucked her into the wall of books until the volumes rained around them.

Tom suckled her other nipple. Hyacinth made the most divine, throaty sound. Like the purr of a kitten. He was pulsing in his breeches, his ballocks already drawn tight. It had been so long, too long, and the glimpses into paradise she had given him the past two days had turned him into a satyr.

He freed himself from his breeches, his cock rigid and ready, then guided his tip to her entrance. Tom released her nipple and rose to his full height, taking in the sight of her in her naughty shepherdess’s costume. Like a fallen goddess before him. Pale, gorgeous breasts on display, nipples pebbled. Face flushed, lips parted. Against the row of leather-bound volumes, all brown and nondescript at her back aside from their gilt stamping, she was vibrant.

The need to be inside her was the rawest physical ache he had ever known. To become one with her. To unite their bodies. He thought he could die a happy man if he could slip his cock within the sweet cove of her cunny just once.

“You are sure?” he asked her, giving her this one, last chance to deny what they both so desperately wanted.

If she told him no, he would back away. He would stop this madness, even if it

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