“You are playing a dangerous game, my little love.” He let his voice drop to the husky growl that he had long since realized drove her mad. “You should beware my vengeance.”
Her smile was a challenge, an arch look that invited him to do his worst, or his best. “I wonder, should I beware of your retaliation…” She leaned forward to breathe the rest of the sentence in his ear. “...or shall I look forward to it?”
Well, if that was the game she wished to play. Arthur chuckled and settled back against the cushions with his most infuriating smile on his features.
His little Nora would soon find she was not the only one who could tease.
* * *
Drat the man. She had expected him to reciprocate her advance, had been waiting for his response through the whole of the remaining drive to the Bedford country home, and he had remained maddeningly unmovable.
He had righted his clothing, then smiled, leaned back, and proceeded to do nothing but make small talk for the remainder of the ride, quite as if he did not notice her growing agitation, though she was sure that he did.
He was clearly teasing her, making her wait and anticipate as part of his plan to repay the game she had played with him, and it was frustrating to think that he might be succeeding in his efforts to challenge her.
And worse, she suspected that he knew quite well the effect he was having, the agitation he was creating in her mind. He looked far too smug not to know.
The carriage swung into the drive of the Bedford country home, and she did her best to adopt a look of pleasant and dignified anticipation as they came to a stop. The driver opened the door, and Arthur stepped out before carefully handing her down with a smile and offering her his arm. She took it, and together they made their way inside, handing off their cloaks to the waiting manservant.
“Would you like something to drink, dear?” Arthur’s tone was soft, bland, and polite, without a hint of anything other than quiet courtesy.
“You,” she responded with a smirk.
Arthur paused—his eyes widening in overwhelming desire. “Then… then shall we inspect the rooms?” He said, swallowing hard.
At the first door of the family wing, she released Arthur’s arm to grasp the door knob.
Arthur pounced.
Strong arms swept her up and off her feet in a flurry of skirts, the movement so unexpected she let loose a rather undignified shriek before she could stop herself. “Arthur!”
His response was a smoldering glance that made her blood heat and her cheeks flame before he turned and made his way with purposeful strides down the corridor to the door that she thought led to the master bedroom. A twist of his wrist got the door open before he carried her inside and shut the door firmly behind them.
The door shut, and Arthur looked down at her, eyes hot and bright with lust and love as he bent his head closer to hers. “Will you tell me to stop?”
She would rather have tried to stop a river from flowing downhill. “No.”
“Do you want me to be gentle?” His voice dropped several notes to a husky timbre that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up in the most pleasant way. “Or would you have me show you the full extent of my passion, my desire for you?”
There was time enough for gentleness, and she was no maiden or shrinking violet. She leaned up in his arms to whisper in his ear. “Passion, Your Grace.” And then she nipped the lobe of his ear and swiped the tip of her tongue across the pulse point of his neck.
EPILOGUE
The drive to the country home had been a test of his endurance. He had intended to play sweet little games, coaxing her into the bedroom and into the bed with tenderness and pretty words. But the sight of her, the barely veiled looks of frustration she sent him, was too much for his self-control to withstand.
Perhaps he might have tried to go slowly, even then, to go softly and gently. But the feel of Nora’s teeth grazing the lobe of his ear and the swipe of her tongue across his neck drove any and all such thoughts from his mind.
His fingers caught at the laces in the back of her dress, tugging the knots free to loosen the upper half of the garment before he strode toward the bed and dropped her on it. She started to rise, but he bent over her, shaking his head as he used one hand to discard his boots and undo his pants.
“Trust me, my darling.”
She nodded and lay back, watching as he removed his clothing in quick succession. When he was fully naked, he flung himself onto the bed, straddling her petite frame.
He bent to remove her shoes and stockings, tossing them aside, then gripped the hem of her dress and her chemise and dragged both of them upward, his palms tracing firm paths of pressure up her body as the fabric pooled around his wrists.
He reached her chest, palming her breasts, caressing them until they were hardened peaks before he stripped both garments off of her in quick movements, leaving her bare to his gaze, cheeks flushed and chest heaving, light glinting off the dampness of her arousal at the juncture of her thighs.
With careful movements, he freed her hair from the pins that had held it in place, then stroked down her face. She leaned into his touch for a moment, then opened her eyes and gave him a challenging look, lifting her hips slightly against his thighs.