“You are the only lady I’ve ever followed into an empty carriage apart from my mother,” he said in a low, suggestive way.
“That is strangely lovely to hear.” Louisa beamed.
He chuckled, squeezing the flesh of her waist. “And this is from the lady who gasped at catching two servants kissing.”
She lowered her head to his, a breath away from touching. “Perhaps they opened a whole new world for me.”
“So we are not debating innocence from this moment forth?”
“I stopped questioning my innocence the moment our lips first met after our ledger appropriation in Worthing.”
“Oh? Then what are you debating now? Dare I ask?”
Her nose touched the tip of his. “This is quite clear, is it not?”
His eyes sparked into hers. “I won’t ask you if you will regret this choice.”
“And you shouldn’t. My regrets are mine; your regrets are yours. But this, just so that you know, servant of mine, I will never regret.”
“Christ, Louisa.” He nipped at her chin. “Then...”
She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him in answer. Her sentiments on the beach had been real—they mightnever have this moment again. After they confirmed whether or not the duchess also possessed a secret ledger, they would part ways. And if they were going to part, let them also share what they might never share again.
Let them part in an earth-shattering way.
Her fingers traced up the line of his jaw, his stubble tickling the palm of her hand. He had tiny, barely-visible freckles scattered across his cheeks, with that one notable freckle claiming its bold spot beneath his left eye.
She pressed back into his hardness and was rewarded with a groan whispering along her neckline. Lawks, she loved that sound.
She arched into him again.
He cursed. “Christ, woman, you are driving me mad.”
Her hands seized his to guide them to her ankles before she dragged them back up her legs, and her skirt along with them. “Then we should do something about it, do you not think?” She let go of his hands to fumble with the buttons of his trousers.
Another curse. “Aren’t we moving too fast?” he asked even as he bucked beneath into her.
She paused only long enough to answer, “This is not a moment for going slow, Oliver!”
He chuckled before catching her lips again. Her fingers continued their ministrations, pausing only once they had completed their task. She started when he suddenly lifted off the seat, not breaking their kiss as he shoved his trousers down. His manhood sprang forth, and a thrill of excitement shot through her like a cannonball.
His mouth broke away from hers. “Touch me,” he breathed with a near groan, steering one of her hands to his member.
Dear Lord, how could she resist?
She encircled him with the palm of her hand, a thrill of excitement shooting up her spine when he guided hermovements up and down at a slow pace. “Just keep pumping like that.”
He was so hard. And yet, his flesh was silky smooth in her palm. One of his hands rested on her hip and the other snaked beneath her skirts to pull down her drawers. She lifted, knees pressed into the cushions, allowing him to make swift work of the garment before his hand finally,finallyventured to her womanhood andtouchedher.
And Lord, that touch.
Her gasp coincided with his sharp inhale as the hand on his member tightened. A finger slipped inside her. The invasion felt strange and foreign, but also thrilling and fascinating. Louisa lost all reason—no, she only lost what little she had left.
She wanted this man.
She wanted the duke.
It was in this moment, as they touched each other’s most intimate places on their bodies, that she could finally admit how much she wanted him. Shelikedhim. Perhaps she had even fallen a little bit in love. Dear Lord in Heaven! In lo—
