The Worst Lord in London: Scoundrels of Mayfair Book 1 by Anna Campbell

The Worst Lord in London: Scoundrels of Mayfair Book 1 by Anna Campbell

Author:Anna Campbell [Campbell, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 11

Twice now, Leighton had transported Kate to heaven and back. A sultry, tumultuous, radiant heaven that she’d had no idea existed.

The words to describe that plunge into fire continued to elude her. A fire that blazed with pleasure and left her quaking and exhausted and drifting in a blissful haze afterward.

But he was yet to find release, and the strain was showing. The skin clung to the bones of his face, and he looked drawn and on edge.

She, too, hungered for the ultimate joining. He’d invited her into a new world of sensation, but each time she tumbled over the precipice into ecstasy, she’d felt empty and strangely alone.

For too much of her life, she’d been alone. Ever since Sylvie and her parents had died. Today was the first time in years when she relaxed the self-control that ruled her. Only now did she recognize how lonely her life had been in recent years.

She stopped on the rug in the center of the room and turned to Leighton. Because it was afternoon, her shocking behavior seemed even more shocking. Such sins belonged under cover of night.

Summoning every morsel of courage, she ran her hands down his bare chest. His skin was warm and smooth under her touch, and she felt the flex of hard muscle, as she lingered on his pectorals and traced the line of his sternum.

Leighton quivered under her hesitant investigation, and she was close enough to hear his breath catch and to see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. Encouraged by these signs that her tentative caresses stirred him, she moved closer to taste him. A hint of salt and something musky that she guessed was male arousal. She kissed his chest again and filled her lungs with his piquant scent.

A soft rumble emerged from deep in his throat. A hint of protest. A growl of approval.

His male parts filled the front of his breeches. The visible proof of his desire excited her, even as apprehension churned in her stomach when she imagined what was about to happen.

Her hands slid lower, his hair a soft prickle against her palms. She had no idea that a man’s body would prove so fascinating. Curiosity brought her to the waistband of his breeches. She bit her lip in concentration, as she worked out the arrangement of buttons.

When at last she released the front fall, he shuddered. A murmur of awe escaped her at the sight of his male member swelling against a single layer of material.

“Have you ever seen a naked man before?”

She shook her head, working at the last buttons. “I’ve seen etchings of statues.”

Tension roughened his laugh. “Most of the time, they’re not rampant.”

“Is that the word?” she asked faintly.

Until now, her hands had been steady. As she brushed aside the final fold of buckskin, they trembled, despite her best efforts to appear calm.

Although Kate wasn’t looking at his face, she heard a smile in his voice. “I’m doing wonders for your vocabulary.”

“I’m very grateful,” she muttered which elicited a grunt of amusement.



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