Eleven Scandals to Start to Win a Duke's Heart by Sarah MacLean

Author:Sarah MacLean [Maclean, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance
ISBN: 9780061852077
Google: c2HSvRed0mUC
Amazon: 0061852074
Barnesnoble: 0061852074
Goodreads: 7963136
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2011-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Music is the sound of the gods.

The delicate lady plays the pianoforte to perfection.

—A Treatise on the Most Exquisite of Ladies

We are assured that there is still time for the wedding of the season . . .

—The Scandal Sheet, October 1823

He lifted her in his arms, turned, and carried her back to the piano bench. Setting her down on the hard wooden seat, he came to his knees before her, cupping her face and tilting her to receive his kiss.

His hands came to her breasts, lifted them, bared them, stroked across their peaks, pinching lightly until she gasped, and he rewarded the sound, giving her everything she had not known she wanted. She whispered his name as he suckled the pebbled tip of one breast, sending excitement coursing through her. She plunged her fingers into his lush golden curls, holding him to the spot where he wreaked havoc on her flesh and her emotions.

He groaned at the feel of her hands in his hair, and the sound rippled through her like pleasure.

She knew she should not allow it.

Knew she risked everything.

Did not care.

As long as he did not stop.

He clasped her to him, worshipping her with lips and tongue and the wicked hint of teeth as his hands stroked down the length of her, pressing her closer and closer to him, until she thought they might become one.

“Simon . . .” she whispered his name and he stopped, lifting his head, his eyes flashing with heat.

“God, Juliana,” he reached out one hand, stroking down one side of her cheek, and she turned her head impulsively, placing a warm, soft kiss on the pad of his thumb, tracing a circle there with her tongue before biting the flesh softly.

He growled at the sensation, pulling her to him for a kiss that was more claiming than caress. When he ended it, they were both breathing heavily, and her hands had found their way inside his topcoat to stroke his broad, firm chest.

“I want . . .” she started, the words breaking off as he returned his attention to her breasts, taking a nipple between his lips, rolling the tight peak between tongue and teeth until she could not think.

When he released her, he flashed a wolfish grin, and she could not help but reach out for him, letting her fingers play across his lips—as though touching the elusive smile could burn it into her memory. He took the tip of one finger into his mouth, sucking on it until she gasped. “What do you want, love?”

The endearment curled between them, and she was struck by a pang of longing . . . she wanted him. For more than a stolen moment in this dark, private place . . . for more than two weeks . . .

I want you to want me.

To choose me.

“Come closer.” She spread her legs, knowing that she was being wanton. Knowing that if they were caught, she would be ruined, and he would walk away to be with his future bride.

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