One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club #1)

She couldn’t hold it in a moment longer. She moaned. But fortunately, so did he, so it wasn’t quite so embarrassing.

Keening low through her teeth, she brought one hand to the back of his head, teasing her fingers through his soft, curling hair as he sucked and licked. He transferred his attentions to her other breast, and the sensations began anew—so sharp and acute at first, then sweet and dark and deep. Without even thinking what she did, she rocked her hips against his, grinding against the hard ridge of his arousal.

“Yes,” he said, breaking away from her breast and kissing his way back up her neck. His hands slid to her hips, and he rocked her against him again. And again. Stoking her pleasure to a near-unbearable plateau.

“Yes.” He panted against her neck. “This is how I wanted you, that morning in the carriage. Just. Like. This.”

Truly? That morning they’d quarreled in the carriage, he’d imagined them doing this? He dragged her over his hard length again, sending a fresh surge of pleasure through her.

Her lips parted, and his name rushed out with her breath. A helpless plea for mercy, but he seemed to take it as encouragement.

“Amelia.” He clutched her hips tighter, nuzzled her ear. “God, we’ll be good together. I’ve known it from the first.”

No, no. Such dangerous words. She tried to block them out, but her shields faltered, and she let herself imagine, for just a moment, there was more than lust behind them. In her ears, his words echoed and altered, warping around all her girlhood fantasies and romantic dreams. We’ll be good together. I’ve known it from the first. I’ve known you from the first. Oh God, Amelia. I’ve loved you from the first. The foolish, useless craving for affection throbbed in her blood, made her hot between the legs. And her heart …

She didn’t think her heart could bear it if he spoke again, so she kissed him, out of sheer self-preservation. Stupid, stupid mistake. The emotions unleashed in that rough press of mouth against mouth … oh, they were a thousand times worse. His taste was too familiar now. He explored her mouth so thoroughly. It was all so unbearably intimate, it made her ache deep inside. She broke the kiss, intending to break away entirely.

But then he had his hands on her br**sts again, and his mouth captured her nipple … Pleasure swamped her last hold on resistance. She was lost. Her hips moved of their own accord, rocking against his in a steady rhythm.

Hot sensation gathered between her thighs, spreading sweetly through her limbs. And still she craved more. She’d never imagined she could achieve pleasure this easily—still mostly clothed, her body not yet attuned to his rough, masculine touch. But, oh, she was close. So close. That shimmering pinnacle of bliss hovered just beyond her reach, but she was striving toward it. Climbing higher … higher …

Thud.

She fell straight back to earth.

He lifted her by the waist, abruptly breaking the contact between their loins. “Enough,” he rasped.

Enough? Amelia consulted her body. No. No, that was most definitely not enough.

Pushing her farther away, he straightened in the chair. “Ten minutes.” Red-faced, he nodded at his watch. “They’re over. The wager is satisfied.”

Was he mad? Perhaps ten minutes were up, but Amelia wasn’t nearly satisfied. And neither was he, from the looks of the straining bulge in his trousers.

Nevertheless, he rose from the chair and half-carried her into the bedchamber, abruptly releasing her. His hasty retreat left several paces’ distance—and the connecting door—between them. “Go to bed, Amelia.”

Reeling, she grasped the bedpost for support. Her whole body felt like blancmange, soft and quivering. And she ached … oh, how she ached for completion. Surely he knew how aroused she’d become, from the way she’d wantonly ridden him. Goodness, from the sounds she’d made. He conquered any resistance with his seductive touch and that hot, wicked mouth. Caught in that haze of lust, she would have surrendered her virtue easily.

“We agreed on ten minutes,” he said, turning away to make discreet adjustments to his trouser fall. “And I gave you my word.”

Was she to believe he was being honorable? From the moment he’d drawn out that pack of cards, he’d drawn her straight into his clutches. Literally. And now he was walking away, leaving her a frustrated, trembling mass of thwarted desire and unfulfilled need.

“You don’t need help with your laces?” he asked.

She numbly shook her head.

“Good night, then.” He started to pull shut the connecting door, then paused to give her an enigmatic look. “I’m just here, if there’s anything you need.”

Chapter Ten

Alone in the antechamber, Spencer unscrewed the top of his flask with trembling fingers. He tossed back a quick, scorching swallow. Then another.