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Dominic’s smile slid into something dark and wicked. “I like brazen.” His voice was a low purr as he wrapped her escaped curl around one of his fingers. “As for rubbing…”

She laughed. “If I were brazen right now and locked that door to the other cabin, would you be shocked?”

“Not at all. I’d be nothing but intrigued.”

Her pulse racing faster than the hurtling train, Artemis latched the door, then turned back to face her handsome-as-sin fiancé. Dominic’s arms were stretched out along the back of the sofa, his long, muscular legs spread wide as though he was the master of all he surveyed. His gaze was dark and burning as it traced over her, lingering on her mouth, her breasts, her waist, then drifting lower to her skirts, as though he could see what was beneath all of the layers. How she pressed her thighs together in a futile attempt to ease the ache there.

Lucifer’s love truncheon.Dominic’s confidence was breathtaking. And Artemis loved how he made her feel so desired. As though he had eyes for her and her alone. That she could do anything—be completely wanton and wild in his arms—and he wouldn’t think less of her. That maybe he’d want her even more.

Rain lashed the windows, and it suddenly felt like they were completely alone in their own private world. Artemis could hear nothing but the downpour, the gallop of her own heart, and the rhythmicclickity-clackof the train upon the tracks. The carriage rocked gently as she contemplated what she would do next. What her plan of attack would be.

The Duke of Dartmoor was exhausted and tense, and she wanted to take that all away, at least for a short while. He deserved to feel desired too.

With calculated slowness, she lifted her silk skirts. Dominic’s gaze smoldered as she untied the tapes securing her petticoats and crinoline cage. The cumbersome garments slid down her hips and over her drawers, puddling around her booted feet. Picking up her skirts, she then neatly stepped out of the voluminous pile and sashayed back to Dominic.

Her fiancé looked up at her, watching and waiting. He might appear to be patient, but she could see the heat and hunger in his eyes, the coiled tension in his muscles, feel the lust radiating from his body. Her gaze fell to his lap, and she couldn’t fail to notice the outline of his erection; from the way it tented his trousers, she knew he was thick and large and ready for her.

She licked her lips and then dropped to her knees on the carpeted floor before him. The Duke of Dartmoor had proclaimed he didn’t mind that she was brazen.

Well, she was about to see if that were true.

She looked up at him through her lashes, deliberately playing the seductress. Leaning forward, she slid Dominic’s burgundy-red braces off his broad shoulders and down his arms, relishing the feel of his bulging biceps beneath her palms. The tickle of the hair on his forearms. Oh, what she could do with a man like this.

When she tugged his shirt from the waistband of his trousers and her questing fingers found the hot, taut flesh of his abdomen beneath, his muscles twitched at the contact and he groaned. She smiled.

“Tease,” he rasped.

“Of course.” And then she bent forward and placed her mouth on his left pectoral muscle, alternately sucking and then laving the thin fabric with her tongue, tormenting the nipple beneath until it was a tight nub.

“Witch.” He grasped the back of her neck, as though he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to keep her there or pull her away.

She laughed and transferred her attentions to his other nipple. At the same time her fingers found the buttons securing the fall of his trousers and she began to slide them free. She so very badly wanted to hold and stroke the hot, hard, heavy length of him in her hands. To take him in her mouth, to taste him, and to hear him gasp and hiss and groan until he lost all control. She licked her lips as the last button came undone—

“Artemis.” He caught her chin with gentle fingers. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” she said with a coquettish pout.

“Believe me, I would love you to, but if you do, I’ll probably spill within five seconds. It’s been far too long since anyone…” He brought her hand to his lips. “I want you far too much,” he said. “And I don’t want to come too quickly. Here.” He urged her to rise. “Hop on my lap. Straddle me.”

Gathering her skirts with one hand, Artemis did as he asked. She was more than willing to go along with whatever Dominic wanted. Right at this moment, her sole purpose was to give him pleasure. But with her legs parted and her sex hovering over his rigid length, it took all of her willpower not to grind against his cockstand to find her own pleasure.

One of Dominic’s hands settled on her waist, holding her steady while his other hand dragged her down for a searing kiss. “I have to see you,” he murmured hoarsely against her lips as the hand spanning her torso slid to her bust. His thumb circled her straining nipple. “I want to know what you look like. The shape of your breasts. The color of your nipples. What your sweet flesh tastes like. When I’m alone at night, pleasuring myself, I want a precise picture of you in my head.”

Oh my.How could she say no to such a wonderfully wicked request? Excitement curling in her belly, Artemis slid open the jet buttons of her dark-green bodice until the top half of her gown sagged open, revealing her cream silk corset and the lace-edged chemise that barely covered her breasts.

“Corsets are the devil’s work,” muttered Dominic as he battled with the first few hooks and eyes, but within moments the tightly fitting, boned garment loosened and then he hauled down her chemise, exposing her breasts to his heated gaze.

“Sweet Jesus,” he whispered hoarsely, cupping her flesh gently. “I hope you can forgive my crudeness, but your breasts are spectacular, my wild, sweet Artemis. My imagination hasn’t done them justice. At all.”

A hot thrill coursed through Artemis at the thought that he liked what he saw. And that he’d been imagining what she looked like naked. “I happen to like your crude compliments and suggestions,” she returned, her own voice ragged with unbridled need. When he pinched one of her already tightly furled nipples, then gently rolled it and tugged, Artemis had to bite her lip to suppress a whimper of delight. But then the hot cavern of his mouth engulfed her other nipple, and there was no way on heaven or earth she could contain her moan. As his knowing tongue flicked and circled the taut, aching peak, as his teeth scraped and his lips suckled, Artemis had to clutch at his shoulders to keep her balance. He made her dizzy and so mad with desire she knew she would do anything that he asked. Anything at all.

One of his hands slid beneath her bunched-up skirts and found her drawer-clad inner thigh. Her legs were trembling. Could he feel how wet she was through the thin fabric?

Her throat was tight with lust as she whispered, “Please touch me, Dominic. Don’t make me wait.” And then she gasped as his fingers hooked into the slit of her drawers and he gave a determined yank, tearing the lawn asunder.

A hot tremor of pleasure shot through her as one wicked fingertip stroked along the damp furrow of her sex before settling unerringly on her swollen, throbbing core. And then he rubbed her right where she needed him, his fingers dancing over her exquisitely sensitive flesh in tiny tormenting circles. She began to rock her hips, grinding shamelessly against Dominic’s hand and his straining, still partially trapped erection. And then she felt him fumbling with his trousers right before he dragged his hot, rigid shaft along the length of her slick folds.

“I promise that I won’t spend inside you,” he whispered raggedly against her ear. “I won’t get you with child.”


Tags: Amy Rose Bennett Historical