Lily and the Duke (Sex and the Season #1)(6)

She crept along the back wall of the ballroom and headed to the double door that led out to the terrace. She’d sneak around to the front of the house and begin her quest there.

As she stepped onto the terrace, she delighted in a breath of fresh air. It was a gently warm night, and she had always preferred outdoors to indoors. Several couples chatted intimately in the shadows. No one seemed to notice as Lily crossed the terrace and descended the staircase to the lawn. Swiftly she walked around to the side of the mansion, giggling to herself. The manor was built onto the side of a hill. As she walked up the incline, she took care to stay in the shadows, away from the torch lights.

She smiled, humming to herself. This had been easier than even she could have imagined. In less than an hour, she’d gotten her sister, her brother, and her cousins out of her hair. Pleased with her success, she began to skip a little. She was almost laughing out loud when a pair of strong arms grabbed her and pulled her behind a large flowering bush. Before she could scream, a mouth clamped down on hers.





Chapter 2





Lily pushed her palms against her attacker’s shoulders, but his strength defeated hers and he pulled her closer to his body. She gasped at the hardness of his chest. At her slight opening, he dipped his tongue into her mouth and circled gently, exploring. She dropped her arms limply to her sides. He tasted of brandy, or was it port?

Run, Lily. Run!

Yet her feet seemed glued to the ground. Her pulse quickened as a stabbing flame surged between her legs. Her heart lurched as fear coursed through her, yet she found herself standing on her toes, trying to get closer, as warmth enveloped her entire body.

Slowly her captor released her waist and slid his hands down until they were clasping hers. He gently guided her arms around his neck without breaking the kiss. She feathered her fingers over the velvety skin covering corded muscle and moved downward to caress his broad shoulders clad in soft fabric. Was it velvet? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. But she was certain that his hard body was the most glorious thing she had ever touched.

What am I doing?

But her thoughts evaporated until only feeling remained. Oh, she had been wrong about kissing. This was heaven. Apprehensively, she let her tongue touch his, and he groaned softly. Her nipples stiffened and she pushed them into his chest. Something was making her want more. Was it his groan? The smooth stroking of his tongue on hers? She trembled as they tasted each other. She tilted her head upward to meet his mouth better and opened her eyes briefly.

In the edge of her vision, she saw a shadowy figure stop and then hurry away. The spell broken, Lily panicked. She was kissing a complete stranger. His tongue was in her mouth. He could be anyone, the local idiot for goodness’ sake!

With all her strength, she removed her hands from around his neck, pushed at his shoulders, and tried to retreat.

“Wait!” He grabbed her arm and pulled her back, right into the path of one of the torch lights.

She looked up into the mesmerizing green eyes of Daniel Farnsworth, the Duke of Lybrook. Lord, he was still handsome, but not the pretty boy he had been. His beauty had matured. The edge of his jawline glittered with golden stubble, and his amazing eyes were deeper set and surrounded by tiny laugh wrinkles. His golden hair still flowed flawlessly past his shoulders. How might it feel against her fingers?

No! She gulped, willing herself not to stammer.

“Y-Your Grace?



* * *



Daniel looked down at the dark-haired woman whose mouth he had been ravishing. How could he have made such a mistake? She wasn’t who he expected. Yet he had known, somehow. Her kiss had been different. Innocent and sweet.

Her lovely dark curls and eyes the color of aged cognac seemed slightly familiar, but he couldn’t place her. Who was she—this maiden whose lips met his with a tender purity he had never known? He longed to take her in his arms again, to hold her, to kiss her. He wanted more of her. Much more.

But that was not to be. He had to apologize and let her go. It was the decent thing to do. Even he drew the line at seducing innocents. Most of the time, anyway. He was the duke now. He had responsibilities.

The pulsing inside his trousers convinced him otherwise. “Oh, bloody hell,” he said aloud, and pulled her body into his again.

She responded, and his heart pounded so hard he thought it would leap from his chest.

“Yes,” he whispered, “give me your tongue, love.”

Sweet, so sweet. He breathed deeply and inhaled her scent—spice cake and mulled wine. Wonderful. Slowly he guided one of her hands to his head and laced her fingers through his hair. Her other arm reached around his neck and caressed the muscles of his shoulders and back. He slid his hand from her waist, up the gentle curve of her spine to her nape, tilting her head farther back. He slid his lips away from her mouth, across her cheek and to her ear, tracing her lobe with his tongue, her ivory skin smooth as Oriental silk under his lips.

“I want to touch every part of you,” he said, rasping.

She shuddered and pushed into him. Yes, good. She wanted this too. He trailed his lips across her cheek, her sigh a delicate whisper against his skin. He moved to her throat, found her pulse point, and nuzzled it gently. He slid his tongue down farther and dipped in between her breasts. Such a soft, plump, rosy bosom—the satin skin heaven against his tongue. Her dress hid the fleshy crimson of her nipples—like cherry bonbons but so much sweeter. How he wanted to suck them, pinch them. Bite them until she screamed.