One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club #1)(93)

“Come along,” Amelia chided, evidently mistaking his frown for reluctance. “You know you want to see the view of Tintern Abbey. ‘When the fretful stir unprofitable,’” she quoted, teasing him with another line from Wordsworth’s poem, “‘and the fever of the world have hung upon the beatings of my heart …’”

She arched an eyebrow, extending him a dare.

“‘How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,’” he finished in a murmur, looking over his shoulder as though there might be someone to hear.

“I knew it.” She smiled. “Romantic.”

“Our secret, remember.” He made his voice deep with mock threat. “You’re not to tell a soul.”

Four days later, Spencer sat in Briarbank’s small library, shaking blotting powder over the letter he’d just finished. A knock sounded at the door. “Come in.”

“It’s only me.” Amelia entered the library, closing the door behind her and approaching the desk with a delicious sway in her hips. A quite promising sway, if he read the signals right.

This place was good for her. He’d noticed the change in her the moment they’d arrived at Briarbank. She was in her element, brimming with confidence and cheer, and for his part, Spencer had been reaping bountiful rewards in their bedchamber. And in their dressing room, and in the bath, and even once in the drawing room. But not yet in this library, and he dearly hoped this afternoon’s interruption was intended to remedy that oversight.

He sealed his letter and set it aside. “Well?”

“A rider just arrived from Harcliffe Manor. Lily and the gentlemen are under way. They should arrive within an hour or two.”

Spencer received the news with surprising ambivalence. This was the original reason he’d journeyed here—to get Bellamy and Ashworth in one place and put an end to this Stud Club business. But now he’d been enjoying his time alone with Amelia. He hated for the honeymoon to end.

Evidently, she felt the same. Skirting the desk, she sauntered around to his chair and made herself at home in his lap. “Soon the house will be full of people,” she said. “I’ll be busy making everyone feel at home. This may be our last time alone for a while.”

She wasted no time with coyness. Her hand went straight to his groin.

“Already?” she teased, stroking his erection through the fabric of his trousers.

“From the moment you entered the room.” He hauled her further into his lap, taking her mouth in a kiss that was equal parts playfulness and passion. God, he loved her mouth. So sweet and lush, just like the rest of her.

She reached between them, unbuttoning his fall and smallclothes with practiced skill. He cupped her br**sts, teasing her ni**les to peaks through the thin muslin as she freed him from his trousers. Her cool, delicate fingers wrapped around his thick length, stroking him boldly. He reclined in the chair, reveling in the sensation. She was a quick study, his Amelia. She’d already learned just how he liked to be touched.

Another rap at the door had him jolting in the chair.

“Stay here,” she said, scooting off his lap. “One of the servants, no doubt. I’ll be back in a trice.”

He obeyed her. Because really, he had no desire to stand and greet whoever it was with a rampant erection. He didn’t even bother to tuck himself back in, just moved closer to the desk. Amelia conferred with the intruder in hushed tones, and then shut the door and locked it. If his arousal had flagged the slightest bit during the interruption, the sound of that tumbler in the lock had him throbbing again, instantly.

As she hurried back across the room, he pushed back in his chair and surveyed the desk. Would he lay her atop it? Or bend her over it? Decisions, decisions.

Amelia had ideas of her own, however. She walked over to where he sat in the chair, took his eager length in her hand, and sank to her knees.

Oh, hell.

That sweet, lush mouth closed over the swollen head of his cock, and Spencer thought he would erupt. “Amelia, wait.”

She backed off and looked up at him.

Damn it. Why the deuce had he done that?

“What is it?” she asked.

“Are you sure …?” He hadn’t wanted to push her into this too soon.

Her eyes twinkled. “You told me that if I enjoy something you do to me, there’s an excellent chance you’ll enjoy the same.”

“In this case, it’s not an excellent chance. It’s a certainty.”

“Well, then. Stop interrupting.”

She took him in her mouth again, this time smiling while she did it. And it was the damnedest thing, but it felt different when she smiled. Even better than before, if such a thing were possible. Her tongue curled around the sensitive ridge beneath, and her soft palate rubbed against the crown, and a helpless burst of profanity tore from his throat.

Which made her laugh, and then it got even better.

She was a little tentative, but that was good, because if she’d been any more free with her lips and tongue and hands, he would have come in an embarrassingly brief ten seconds.

He fell back into the chair, surrendering to the mounting pleasure. With one hand, he swept a stray lock of her hair aside, to better watch as she sucked him between those plump, coral-pink lips. She looked up and caught him watching, and she gave an erotic sigh that had him clawing the upholstery.