Page 46 of The Lyon's Pretty Pugilist

She shook her head. Her lips parted, and her hips lifted. “I…I don’t know.”

But he did know. This innocent woman needed to be touched.

“I’ve got you, my darling Josie,” he assured her as he scraped his fingers through her protective curls.

She moaned, and her thighs parted. “I don’t understand,” she panted out.

But he did. He gently traced her secret lips.

“Yes, that,” she said as she parted her legs even more.

Grinning like a cocksure fool, he sank a finger into her wet heat. Her inner walls tightened, and she rocked against his hand. He dipped another finger inside, exploring until he found her pearl. While tracing gentle circles on the little bud, he soaked up every one of her gasps and boxed them in his memory. He’d pull them out and relive this moment whenever life got difficult.

Those athletic thighs quaked, and her inner walls tightened.

“That’s it, my darling, let go.” He curled his fingers in a come-hither motion and then pressed hard with his thumb.

Her body jerked. “Nicolas,” she cried out.

He held her close until her body ceased shaking. As much as he wanted to feast upon her beautiful, wet cunny, she probably needed to recover first. Besides, he’d already pushed this interaction too far by fondling every inch of her where anyone might walk in and see them. A wise man would continue their discoveries later in a private chamber.

Her body was ragdoll limp as he righted her clothing.

She leaned back on the settee and grinned like a sated kitten. “That was quite an interesting lesson.”

“Indeed, quite,” he agreed. He sent her his best smolder. “I have another lesson we could try…”

Someone cleared their throat. Josephine’s eyes widened, and she turned a bright shade of red. “Peters.” She whimpered.

Nicolas whirled to face the doorway.

“You have a guest, sir,” Peters said.

What horrific timing. “Guest?” Nicolas asked.

“Surprise, brother.” Smiling brightly, Bridget catapulted across the room.

Chapter Nineteen

Who would haveguessed Josie would enjoy an afternoon outing with four toffs and a lady’s maid? But surprise! She was having a delightful time chatting with her companions.

She sat between Diana and the loquacious Bridget. Nicolas, Agatha, and Jonathon reclined on the carriage squabs across from them.

Adding to Josie’s excitement was her newest revelation. She wanted to wear a gown that stole Nicolas’s breath. She wasn’t comfortable allowing him to purchase it while his family struggled financially, but she would pay him back even if it took her a long time.

Occasionally, she caught Nicolas’s gaze, and he’d send her a subtle smile. Not wanting to alert their party of her attraction to him, she aimed for nonchalance. But feigning indifference was impossible while giddiness bubbled beneath her skin. Therefore, Josie’s cheeks heated, and she bit her lip to avoid giggling.

Damnations, she hated giggling chits. And here she was, silly and missish. Although perhaps one could be forgiven the night after being kissed senseless.

Certainly, Agatha would be horrified if she had any inkling of the things Josie and Nicolas had done in her drawing room. Which beggedthe question, why had the Davenports left her alone with Nicolas? Did they think a pugilist’s reputation wasn’t worth protecting? Did they believe her so unfeminine and lumbering that Nicolas wouldn’t find her attractive? If so, they were dead wrong. She knew without a doubt that Nicolas was drawn to her. If Bridget hadn’t barged into the drawing room, she was certain he’d have continued whispering sweet sentiments while kissing her.

And the things he had done with his fingers. Good Lord, he’d sent her soaring high above her body. Of course, she’d been most indecent and blown in his ear. Why? She had no idea other than she liked when his breath tickled her ear.

Perhaps swearing off men and pledging to be a life-long virgin had been a mistake. But how was she to know she would someday meet Nicolas? And at least now there was a silver lining because she could offer him her maidenhood.

Agatha and Jonathon had stayed out late the previous evening, making a ruckus in the hallway before entering the drawing room with matching mischievous grins. Josie detected disappointment in Agatha’s expression upon seeing Nicolas’s sister. However, seconds later, she hugged Bridget and insisted that since it was late, she stay the night.

“We will have a lovely breakfast,” Agatha said. “And then you shall go to Oxford Street with us. We have an appointment with my modiste.”