way I did. I swear, I’ll never do it again. From here on out, the only heroine I want to write about is you.”
Lenore sucked in a breath—partially because of the way he stroked a hand along her corset to her breast, and partially because she’d forgotten about Lady Hamilton and Lady Agnes entirely.
“I promise I will keep you safe from that Mr. Swan who has come after you,” he went on, finishing with the buttons of her bodice and pushing it aside so that he could rain kisses on the swell of her breasts—a gesture that did nothing to help Lenore keep her thoughts in one place. “I have friends at Scotland Yard. No doubt Freddy and Reese have already appealed to Lord Clerkenwell to thwart whatever purpose Mr. Swan has come to London for. But mostly—” He paused, bringing his lips back to hers and utterly robbing her of breath with the deepest and most heartfelt kiss she’d ever received. “Mostly I just want to marry you,” he finished at last. “I will give you everything and protect you with my life once you’re my wife.”
“I—” Even if she hadn’t been a wicked strumpet who ached to feel Phin inside of her in that moment—for the comfort it would give her as much as for the raw pleasure—Lenore couldn’t have finished her protest if she’d wanted to. She knew she should. She knew the only moral thing to do was to stop Phin in his tracks and confess the entire story of Laramie and how she had escaped being murdered by Bart the moment he discovered her with the damning letters.
Instead, she strained into him, kissing him as madly as he was kissing her, and reached between them to fumble with the fastenings of his trousers. She was the worst kind of strumpet she could think of as she tugged his shirt out of his waistband and reached in to caress his cock. He was already hard and hot, and as she stroked him, the sounds of enjoyment he made scattered whatever resistance to sin she might have had left.
“I adore it when you touch me like this,” he panted, moving against her hand. “You aren’t shy about anything.”
“I want you inside of me,” she gasped in return, shocked at her own boldness. But the desperation to be one with him warred with guilt. The two emotions seemed to be in a race to see which could consume her faster. Forget Bart, Phin was going to murder her when he learned the full truth. But at least she could have this one, last night to carry with her when everything fell apart.
It was quick and clumsy, but that hardly mattered. Lovemaking didn’t always have to be romantic, with angels singing and sunbeams bursting. Phin grasped and tugged at her skirts until they were up around her waist. She pushed his trousers down over his backside and opened to him. He drove himself deep inside of her as they both groaned in satisfaction. She was reminded all over again how large he was and how perfect he felt moving inside of her. It wasn’t pretty or sweet, but it was hot and powerful, and far quicker than she expected, her body coiled tight with tension, then released in a powerful orgasm that had her calling out loud enough to wake the neighbors, if any happened to be near. Phin hissed a curse that would have turned the most seasoned sailors pale in shock and jerked hard and fast into her before tensing and coming apart himself. She didn’t even care that he wasn’t wearing one of his French letters. The situation was already bad enough that an unplanned pregnancy couldn’t possibly make it worse.
As swiftly as the storm broke, it was over. Phin collapsed above her, and the two of them lay tangled in each other’s arms, panting and stunned. Even before he finished catching his breath, Phin kissed her neck and cheek repeatedly, then found her mouth and kissed her some more.
“Marry me,” he said, his hips still lodged tightly against hers. “We’ll have a Christmas wedding. Or sooner, if you’d like. Everything will be all right, you’ll see. We will—”
He stopped when Lenore wriggled away from him, pushing him back as gently as she could. Her hands felt like lead weights as she struggled to right her clothing and put herself back together. She couldn't look him in the eye when she said, “I can’t marry you,