My Once and Future Duke (The Wagers of Sin #1)(62)

“There’s only one,” she replied. “My maid, Colleen. She can hold her tongue . . .”

“Excellent. Where does she sleep?” His lips were brushing the sensitive skin below her ear, and Sophie felt in very real danger of swooning.

“Upstairs. She’ll be sound asleep now . . .”

She caught the white flash of his teeth as he grinned, just before he kissed her. Her key made a tiny ping as it hit the floor. She clung to his jacket, holding him to her as she returned his kiss. Her entire being seemed to light up with pleasure as his fingers—-both hands bare now—-cupped her jaw as his tongue met hers. When he lifted his head, she swayed and almost stumbled, drunk on the taste of him.

“Take me to bed,” he whispered, his teeth grazing her earlobe. “I told the hack to return in two hours.”

Because he could not stay. It should slap some sense into her, but instead she took his hand and led him up the stairs. There was no time to waste.

She barely got her bedroom door closed before he caught her again. With one hand he untied her cloak and let it fall to the floor. “Do you know,” he asked as he removed her bonnet, “how close I came to ravishing you on my desk when you called?”

“I wouldn’t have objected.” Her efforts to strip him were hampered by the frequent touches of his hands on her skin. Her pulse was leaping so erratically it was a wonder she hadn’t fainted.

Jack’s laugh was quiet. He let her push off his greatcoat and jacket, then spun her around to start working at the fastenings of her dress. “It was damned difficult to see you walk away from me yet again. I nearly didn’t let you.” Her bodice sagged loose and he pressed his lips to the back of her neck. Sophie put her hands on the wall in front of her for support; her bones seemed to turn soft when he did that. “Every day I look through the post, hoping there will be a message from you,” he went on, his voice low as he divested her of the gown. “Every time I go out, I can’t help hoping to catch sight of you.”

Her breath shuddered as his arms went around her and his body pressed against hers. “We agreed—-” she choked, trying to cling to sanity. “It’s not wise for either of us—-”

“No, it isn’t, but I don’t bloody care,” he growled. “My God, Sophie, I want you more than ever.”

She let out a whimper; her skin prickled, and her heart wobbled in her chest. I love you, she thought again, helplessly. She turned in his arms and seized his waistcoat in both hands. “I don’t bloody care, either.”

His mouth was on hers almost before she finished speaking. With urgent fingers they stripped each other before falling into bed. Jack’s weight atop her made Sophie wild with hunger. His hands ran roughly over her skin as if he couldn’t believe she was real. She unabashedly parted her legs and wrapped them around his hips, straining toward him.

He resisted her efforts. “I thought of having you like this the moment our eyes met at Vega’s,” he whispered. One by one he extricated her arms from around his neck and spread them wide, clasping her hands as he levered himself above her. “You were with another man, and it took all my control not to march over and knock him senseless.”

“A friend,” she gasped. “Nothing more.” She could never marry Giles Carter now.

“Hmm.” Jack didn’t sound convinced. “Does he know that?” He kissed the side of her neck, right where her pulse throbbed, his lips sucking at her skin until she felt faint. “I wanted him to know. I wanted everyone to know you were mine.” He moved, sliding over her in imitation of lovemaking.

It was the perfect invitation to ask what he meant by that. It was rapidly becoming clear to her that they couldn’t stay away from each other, nor did they want to. Philip and his jealousy could go hang; Giles Carter and his honorable intentions would have to slip away. This man was in her head, in her heart, and she wanted to be with him. Lover, mistress, or something else, she didn’t care, so long as they were together.

But that was too somber for the moment, when her body ached for his. “Jack,” she pleaded. “Make love to me.” She rocked her hips upward again, and his breath caught with a perceptible flinch.

“Have you thought of me?” He held her pinned to the bed, although his mouth wandered all over her face and neck. “Like this?”

“Yes.” Her breath was coming in ragged gasps now. His hips were sliding against hers, hard and slow, but denying her what she wanted. “All the time. You know I do . . .”

“Good.” He adjusted his weight and pushed inside her. Sophie sucked in her breath and dug her heels into the mattress, wanting to draw him into her so completely, he would never leave. He released her arms and cupped one hand behind her nape until she focused her gaze on him. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He withdrew, only to thrust home again, harder and deeper this time. “I can’t stop wanting you.” Another slow withdrawal, another strong thrust. She clasped her hands on his backside and tried to urge him faster, harder, deeper. Instead, he pushed himself up on straight arms, his electric blue gaze boring into hers. “I’m utterly mad for you.” One hand stole between them, his thumb gliding between her legs. Just that light, probing touch sent a shudder through her that got stronger and stronger until it crested and broke like a wave over her. Jack cut off her sobbing gasps of release with a deep kiss, his body driving urgently against hers until he threw back his head and went stiff in his own climax. And when he rolled onto the bed beside her, gathering her tightly against him with still--trembling arms, she rested her cheek against his chest, listened to the pounding of his heart, and silently mouthed, I love you.