Page 65 of The Lyon's Pretty Pugilist

Having no desire to be on the defense, she’d be submissive. But first, she needed to give her opinion on a pressing matter. “You can’t marry Lydia. She is hideous.”

He silenced her with a finger to her lips. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

Neither did Josie. She’d much prefer to kiss the pad of his index finger. She’d already been a mass of wanton desires, so his flesh pressing on her lip as he caged her against the door and stole the breath from her lungs didn’t help matters.

Her lips puckered, and she gently kissed.

He hissed.

She licked his slightly salty, delicious finger.

Unprepared for his sudden attack, she gasped as his body slammed her against the door. While pressing his torso into hers, his mouth claimed hers in a brutal kiss. Clinging to his shoulders, she met his forceful need.

They broke from their kiss to stare into each other’s eyes. Their panting mingled until they inhaled on the same breath.

He opened his mouth. Fearful he’d say something rational that would convince them to stop, she slanted her lips over his, swallowing his words. Their tangling tongues explored and played.

His hands wandered over her, traveling downward until he cupped her breasts. Dancing his fingers over her areola, his other hand skimmed lower, leaving tingles in its wake.

He lingered where her belly met her pelvis, tracing tiny figureeights. The tease! Why wasn’t he moving lower?

Just when she was about to guide his hand to her ache, he settled his palm on her mound. Even though her nightdress, the intensity of the pressure on her intimate area had her moaning into his mouth and rocking her cunny against his hand.

His kisses punishing, he jammed his hard bulge into her hip.

Her thighs quivered with need. They wouldn’t hold her upright for much longer. If only their naked bodies were entwined on his massive bed.

Her tongue still in his mouth, she shoved him. He didn’t resist. His embrace tightened around her as she forced him backward—so much for being submissive. She maneuvered them until the back of his legs were pressed against the side of the mattress. Then, she gave him a forceful push. He landed arse-first on the bed.

Propped on his elbows, he watched her. His lips quirked upward, and two adorable dimples formed on his cheeks. Seconds later, his smile was gone, replaced with a fierce seriousness.

“Take off your nightclothes,” he demanded.

That raspy baritone could convince her to do just about anything.

She slid the robe off her shoulders and let it drop behind her. She was fairly certain the bulge beneath his trousers twitched.

Reaching down, she grabbed the hem of her nightdress and lifted it over her head. The air cooled her bare flesh as she tossed the garment to the side.

His gaze traveled the length of her, lingering on the dark curls protecting her quim before changing directions to settle on her eyes. “You are magnificent.”

Although she knew her figure was an equal mixture of firm muscle and soft curves, and she looked into the mirror and saw an attractive face, her livelihood didn’t exactly make her feel feminine. She’d spent her entire life bruised, sweating, and lumbering about. But this man regarding her with lust-filled pupils made her feel as ravishing as Venus.

His gaze raked over her again as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

She rolled her shoulders back and thrust her breasts forward, proudly posing. Hopefully, her silent invitation encouraged him to drink his fill.

Eventually, he crooked his finger. “Come here.”

Since he’d said it in that raspy command she couldn’t resist, she crawled onto the mattress beside him. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close. The luxurious curls dusting his pectorals scraped against her sensitive nipples.

His lips brushed her jaw, then her ear. “I want you, Josephine Martin. More than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone.”

“I want you too, Nicolas.” So much so that her nipples tingled, and her cunny pulsed.

He rolled her onto her back and lovingly caressed her curves. She tried to memorize every wonderful sensation. Tight muscles relaxing. Relaxed muscles tightening. Her feminine bits quivering. All the while, her brain turned to mush.

Thankfully, at long last, Nicolas traced the outer lips of her quim.