Her fingers instantly skimmed the hard edges of his chest. He shuddered against her. As though her touch was the only thing keeping him together. She trailed her fingers to the waist of his breeches, scraping the line where they connected with his skin.
“Christ woman, don’t tease me, unbutton me,” he growled while his finger moved and explored inside her in slow, almost infuriating caresses.
Phaedra had never felt this hot, this powerful before. She made do with the buttons of his breeches and practically purred at the moan that tore through his throat when she pushed the material over his buttocks.
His breathing had become harsher. Beads of perspiration gathered across his skin beneath her palms as he seemingly fought an inner battle. “Phaedra, love, what happens next...”
She understood. “Cannot be undone, I know.”
“You also know what comes next?”
She thought back to what she witnessed in the drawing room and arched her back against him. “You thrust.”
He choked. “Christ love, you cannot say things like that.” He bit down tenderly on her shoulder. “It drives me mad.”
“Good mad or bad mad?”
“Lust mad.”
Phaedra grinned. She supposed that’s a good sort of mad. Very dangerous. Very delightful. “I don’t oppose.”
He nibbled his way across her collarbone. “I’m going to thrust, yes, but first I’m going to bury myself inside of you. Do you understand what that means?”
Oh, Lord.Yes. Carnal.
“It may be... uncomfortable at first.”
“Marcus.” Phaedra didn’t want to listen to this anymore. She wanted him. Uncomfortable or not. This caution was much more painful.
He chuckled. “Very well love, hold on.”
Phaedra would give him just about anything at that moment, but she wasn’t sure she could give him that. Hold on? She was about to come undone!
And she couldn’t wait.
*
Possessed.
Deerhurst was madly, badly, and dangerously possessed. He hadn’t been able to hold back. Lord knew, he had tried. But knowing exactly where to enter her house, how to get to her chamber, and staying away from her had slowly driven him insane. All the walls he had erected—and for good bloody reason—crumbled, brick by brick, the moment she entered his mind. It didn’t matter that he’d built those walls to protect his secrets. He never imagined they’d be defeated this easily by the woman in his arms.
He hadn’t been able to hold back.
He wouldn’t hold back now.
Deerhurst inhaled the sweet fragrance of her skin.
Yes, completely possessed.
What the future held for them, time would tell. He couldn’t dwell on that now. He had spent so much of his energy fighting against the pull that drew him closer to Phaedra. He had no more fight left in him. No more strength to resist. He didn’t have that much to begin with anyway.
Let fate cast its die.
Let his past come back to haunt him.
He would face everything then.
Right now, the woman beneath him grew ever more impatient with his patience. Deerhurst rubbed the tip of his nose against her temple.
