Page 89 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
Until him.
With that realization came the feelings she’d evaded for so long, a raging flood of them, one wave after the next, so strong, so relentless nothing could hold them back, nothing could stop them.
There was nothing left for her to do butfeelthem, and it was as frightening as she’d always imagined it would be to be at their mercy. Yet at the same time it was glorious to feel them unfurling like a clenched fist opening inside her.
Benedict didn’t speak, but the emotions running wild inside her must have shown on her face, because he made a choked sound, and then…
Then he was kissing her, his hands buried in her hair and his lips tender and demanding at once. “Open for me, Georgiana,” he whispered against her lips, and she did as he commanded, her lips yielding to his hot,coaxing tongue.
“You taste so sweet, like Mrs….Mrs….confound it, what’s Gray’s cook’s name again? The one who makes the quince preserves?”
She blinked up at him. “Are you talking to me about Lord Gray’s cook while you’re kissing me, Lord Haslemere?”
Benedict dropped a kiss on the end of her nose. “Hush. I’m trying to be romantic by telling you that you taste sweeter than the sweetest fruits, and you’re ruining it.”
“I beg your pardon.” Georgiana tucked her face against his neck to smother a laugh. “It’s Mrs. Beeson.”
“Right. Mrs. Beeson.” His lips curved in a smile against her temple. “Unfortunately, I think the moment has passed, so I’ll just say you’ve cursed me with your sweet tooth, and now I can’t getenough of you.”
Georgiana thought that quite romantic indeed, and urged his face down to hers, eager for his lips. He crooned to her as he took her mouth again and again, jumbled words of passion and tenderness, his whispers hot against her mouth and the tender skin of her throat and neck. She couldn’t make sense of everything he said, but it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, because she could feel it in the brush of his lips against hers, each dizzying stroke of his tonguein her mouth.
He murmured to her as he nibbled and licked his way from her lips to her jaw, and from there to her throat, the lobe of her ear. She cried out when his teeth closed over that sensitive flesh, her body arching under his. “Oh, that’s…”
“Yes? What is it, princess? Tell me.” His wicked lips danced over her skin, nuzzling into the secret place behind her ear before suckling at her lobe again, a quiet laugh escaping him when she arched under hima second time.
“It’s…it makes me shiver.” Georgiana sank her fingers into his thick hair and gave it a quick, sharp tug that made him moan. A bolt of pure, feminine pride shot through her at his obvious pleasure, and all at once she was desperate to get closer to him, to feel his warm skin against hers. “Take this off.” She gave the hem of his waistcoat a fruitless tug, then her restless fingers tugged open the buttons of his coat and tried to drag it over his broad shoulders. “It’s too tight!”
He nipped at the hollow of her throat. “I’ll have you know that’s a perfectly tailored Weston coat.”
Georgiana ceased her struggles with the tight sleeves and raised an eyebrow at him. “Does that mean you wish to leave it on?”
“God, no.” A grin crossed his lips as he wrestled his way out of his coat and waistcoat, threw them on the floor, then eased himself back on top of her, taking care not to crush her. “There. Are you satisfied, madam?”
Georgiana hardly heard him, she was so distracted by the smooth expanse of his bare throat and the hard chest revealed by the open neckline of his shirt. “This is very nice, right here.” She traced the hollow of his throat, then fanned her fingers over the length of his collarbones.
He seemed to hold his breath as her fingers wandered over the muscles of his shoulders and arms and his taut, straining biceps, then let it out in a low moan as she scored her fingernails lightly over the warm flesh of his back. “You’re driving me mad, Georgiana.”
“I am?” She paused in her caresses. “But dozens of ladies must have touched you here before me.”
The corners of her mouth turned down in a frown at the thought, but he swooped down and kissed it from her lips. “No ladies who matter the way you do.”
“Oh.” She gave him a shy smile. “I think I like driving you mad.”
He pulled back to gaze down at her. “You always drive me mad, without even trying to. Your sharp tongue, the occasional flash of temper in your eyes, your smile, that enticing way you bite your bottom lip—everything about you drives me mad, Georgiana. I’ve been on the verge of ravishing you from the moment I met you that night in Maiden Lane.”
Georgiana’s mouth fell open. “But I was horrible to you that night!”
“Iknow.” He grinned, obviously relishing the memory. “No lady has ever dared to scold me like that before. Itwas…stirring.”
Georgiana fingered the neckline of his shirt, peeking up at him from under her eyelashes. “What do you suppose would happen if Itriedtodrive you mad?”
He let out a strained laugh. “You’d find yourself with a deeply aroused earl in your bed, and you might regret it. Aroused earls are demanding creatures.”
“Hmmm. I think I’d like to see for myself.” Georgiana tugged on the hem of Benedict’s shirt. “Take this off.”
Benedict didn’t need any more coaxing. He rose to his knees, tore his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor behind him. “As you wish, Miss Harley. May I remove anything else foryour pleasure?”
Georgiana was vaguely aware he’d asked her a question, but she was so distracted by the sight of his bare chest she didn’t reply. He was…dear God, the long, lean lines of him, his broad shoulders and muscled arms and the hair-roughened expanse ofhis hard chest…
