The Leopard Prince (Princes #2)(80)

“No?” “No.” Almost casually he tugged the ribbon on her chemise and pulled it down. He cupped her breast in his hand. His palm felt incredibly hot. “You will have to work very hard.” He flexed his hips, sliding between her folds.

“Mmm.”

Harry stopped moving. “My lady?” “What?” George muttered irritably. She nudged up, but he wouldn’t move.

“Pay attention.” He pinched her nipple again. “I am.” She opened her eyes wide to prove it.

He moved again. Agonizingly slow. She could feel the head of his erection slipping down, almost to her entrance and then back up to kiss her clitoris.

“You want to win my approval,” he reminded her. “Yes.” She would have agreed to just about anything he said.

“And how are you going to do that?”

She had an inspiration. “By pleasing you, sir?”

He appeared to give that serious thought. All the while, his cock rubbed against her and his hand fondled her breast. “Well, yes, that might be one way to do it. Are you sure that’s the way you want to choose?”

“Oh, yes.” George nodded fervently. “And how will you please me?” His voice had lowered to that deep tone that meant he was very aroused.

“By tupping you, sir?”

Harry froze. She was afraid for a moment that she might have shocked him.

Then he lifted his hips. “That’ll do.” And he thrust himself into her, hard and fast.

She felt a scream building in her throat as he pounded her into the mattress, all trace of playfulness wiped from his face. She wrapped her legs high over his hips, digging her heels into his buttocks. He’d let go of her wrists, and she dragged his head down by his hair to kiss him. Deeply. Ravenously. Desperately.

Please, please, dear Lord, don’t let this be the last time.

He was relentless, and she could feel the explosion building within her, but she held it off, forcing open her eyes. It was important that she see him, that they be together at the end. His face was shining with sweat, his nostrils flared. As she watched, his rhythm broke. She let go of his hair to clutch at his shoulders, her entire being focused on keeping him within her.

And she felt it, at the end.

He reared back, his hips still locked with hers. She could feel his cock jump within her. Feel the spurt and warmth of his seed filling her. She arched her head and gave herself over to the waves of her own release, creaming and flooding with his. It was magnificent, like no other thing she had ever felt, having Harry spend in her body. Tears ran down her temples into her tangled hair. How could she ever let him go after this?

Harry suddenly shifted and tried to withdraw. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Shhh.” George placed her fingers against his mouth, silencing his apology. “I’m increasing.”

Chapter Eighteen

The word increasing seemed to echo around Lady Georgina’s room, bouncing off the china-blue walls and dainty lace bed curtains. For a moment, Harry thought she meant that he’d made her pregnant just now when he’d filled her with his seed. When he’d been seduced by the force of his orgasm and the accompanying surge of his feelings for her.

Love for his Lady Georgina.

Even knowing he had to withdraw, he’d simply been unable to resist the moment. Unable to resist the woman.

Then sense returned. He rolled off Lady Georgina and stared at her. She was pregnant. He felt a spurt of ridiculous anger, hurt, that all his self-debate and worry didn’t in the end even matter.

She was pregnant.

He’d have to marry her. Whether or not he wanted to marry her. Whether he could bring himself to let go and trust in their love. Whether he was able to fit himself into her life, so far out of his experience. All of that was beside the point now. Put simply, it was no longer of any importance. He’d been trapped by his own seed and a woman’s body. He almost felt like laughing. That least-smart part of himself had made the decision for him.

Harry realized that he’d been staring at his lady far too long. Her hopeful expression had closed into one more guarded. He opened his mouth to reassure her when he caught a flicker from the corner of his eye. He raised his head. Yellow and orange lights danced at the window.

He stood up and strode to the window. “What is it?” Lady Georgina called from behind him. In the distance, a pyramid of light lit the night, glowing like something out of hell itself.

“Harry.” He felt Lady Georgina’s fingers on his bare shoulder. “What—?”

“Granville House is burning.” Bennet. Panic, pure and instinctual, flooded his veins.

Lady Georgina gasped. “Oh, my dear Lord.”

Harry whirled and caught his shirt, flinging it on. “I need to go. See if I can help in any way.” Was Bennet asleep in his father’s house tonight?

“Of course.” She bent to pick up his breeches. “I’ll come with you.”

“No.” He snatched the breeches from her hand and tried to control his voice. “No. You must stay here.”

Lady Georgina frowned in that stubborn way of hers. He didn’t have time for this. Bennet needed him now. “But I—” she began. “Listen to me.” Harry finished tucking in his shirt and grabbed his lady’s upper arms. “I want you to do as I tell you. Granville is dangerous. He doesn’t like you. I saw the look he gave you when you took me from his tender care.”