Scandal Meets Its Match (The May Flowers #7) - Merry Farmer Page 0,91

with a pretend sage look as she tugged his shirt out of his trousers and wrestled with their fastenings. “I’ve heard all about you theater people.”

“The theater is positively scandalous,” Phin agreed in a gruff voice, pulling her shirt up over her head in one, swift gesture. “Everyone knows that.”

Their silly conversation came to a quick end as he leaned in and slanted his mouth over hers once more. His kiss hit her with just enough force to leave her head spinning and her knees weak enough that she threw her arms over his shoulders for balance. That left her able to run her fingers through his hair and to lift one leg over his hip. He caught it and hitched it higher, brushing his hand along her thigh to her backside and squeezing. The gesture was heated and perfect and left her roiling with impatience to be under him in bed.

“Enough of this,” Phin growled at last, letting her leg go and stepping away from her long enough to lead her the short distance across the room to the bed. “You’re mine, and I intend to prove it to you.”

Lenore’s insides quivered at the determination in his voice. “I do believe I’ll pretend that I don’t already know we belong to each other so that you put extra effort into proving it to me,” she said breathlessly.

The hunger in his eyes cracked just long enough for Lenore to see the joy and the humor of their game before a smoldering look of intensity made him wolfish all over again. They shed the rest of their clothes with lightning rapidity—Lenore truly was impressed by how easy it was to undress while wearing men’s clothes and vowed to do it more often—and tumbled into Phin’s bed.

As soon as he set his glasses aside, he reached into the drawer of the bedside table and took out a French letter. Before he could open it, Lenore stayed his hand.

“I don’t think we’ll need that,” she said, fire and excitement in her eyes as she grinned up at him.

“Are you certain?” he asked, one eyebrow raised doubtfully.

“Is it usual for married people to use them?” she asked in return, her smile growing.

Another flash of joy lit Phin’s face. The intensity of the love in his eyes was enough to take Lenore’s breath away.

Before he could answer, she went on with, “You asked me in Yorkshire, but I don’t feel as though I gave you a proper answer. Does the question still stand?”

“Of course, it does,” he answered with a rush of breath. He leaned down to kiss her before she could say more, though. His body pressed into hers, his hips grinding against her sex as she wriggled into the perfect position under him. She wanted him so desperately that she wasn’t sure how she was going to be able to wait for all of the legalities to be settled before marrying him.

“In that case,” she panted once his mouth left hers to trail kisses down her neck and across her shoulder to her breasts, “I most definitely want to marry you.”

“Good,” he growled. He took a moment to lavish her breasts with kisses, nips, and licks that hardened her nipples into points and left her arching and panting against him. She could feel the tension in his body as she dug her fingertips into his shoulders. He was deliciously hot and hard as he pressed his cock against her when he returned to kissing her mouth. “But I still say we should use this,” he went on as though their conversation had never flagged, holding up the French letter he still had in his hand.

“Whatever for?” she asked, aching for him to get on with things.

“For one, I’ll last longer,” he said with a grin. “For another, the longer we put off starting a family, the more we can enjoy this.” He raked her naked and overheated body with a quick glance before meeting her eyes mischievously.

“Use the letter,” she panted, giddy with excitement.

He unwrapped it and slid it on, then wasted no time in thrusting into her. Lenore gasped and moaned at the pleasure of it all, bearing into him and meeting his thrusts enthusiastically. It felt so absolutely perfect to be one with him, to feel him filling and stretching her, that the tell-tale coil of impending orgasm built in her so fast she knew she wouldn’t be able to control it. It almost felt as though they’d skipped half of