Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

"Stop it, Lily."

"Let me up, Simon," she said, once more trying to rise from his lap.

"Not on your life," he sneered. "In fact, I told you that if you didn't stop squirming, I would do more than just hold you on my lap." He arched an eyebrow at her.

Drat. She stopped moving. "Don't even

think

you will do a thing with me after being with that woman," she said.

"I didn't do anything with that woman," he said as his hand stroked up and down her arm. Her traitorous nipples peaked in response. "I went to tell her that my wife is the only one I want."

"You're a poor liar," she said without looking at him.

"No. I am a wonderful liar. I have had years of practice. But I am telling the truth." He caught her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. "I never had a reason to tell the truth before. But I am telling you now that you need to trust me. You have to give me a chance."

Lily sniffed. "Then why was she touching you?" She knew she sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn't help it.

"Because she wanted me," he stated blandly. "And, more than that, I imagine she didn't want you to have me."

"Your conceit knows no bounds."

"That scene was played badly, I admit. But I needed to tell her that things between us are over. And I did." His lips touched hers briefly.

"Really?" she sniffed.

He had the nerve to chuckle. "Really."

She moved in his lap again, turning toward him.

"That's it," he groaned. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

***

Simon's last thought was that if she wiggled in his arms one more time, he would have to take her. He would have to push her skirts up and pull her down on him. He would teach his little innocent about making love in a carriage.

Then she moved. And he had his opportunity. He lifted her from his lap only briefly, ignoring her gasp as he gathered her skirts in a ball around her hips and drew her down to straddle him. He let her skirts fall.

"This is highly improper," she sniffed, pulling away from him again. He tightened his hold on her bottom, pulling her forward to rock against his length.

"

That

is improper," he whispered just before his

lips touched her neck. She leaned into his kiss, so he immediately knew he had her interest. Yet she still had a point to prove, he assumed.

"Let me up, Simon," she whispered. Her hot breath blew across his ear.

"I'll let you up," he whispered as he reached beneath her to unfasten his trousers and pull himself free. He grasped her bottom and pulled her forward to ride the ridge of him. The dampness of her soaked him through her drawers.

He reached beneath her and tore them, moving the offending fabric out of the way so he could surge against her moist heat.

"Simon!" she shrieked when she heard the fabric tear.

"I'll buy new ones for you," he chuckled. "Or you can just go without so they'll never be in my way again."

Simon tugged her bodice until he could see the rigid peaks of her nipples.

"You do want me," he said as he took a peak into his mouth and began to tease the other with his fingertips.

"I don't want to," she cried, arching her back and threading her hands in his hair to keep him at her breasts.

"You don't want me to be inside you?" he asked, searching her face for the answer.

"No, I don't want to want you," she whispered, just before she inched forward on him.

"But you do." It was a fact. She was soaking wet and purring on top of him, even if she still wanted to deny it.

"I do," she breathed and then touched her lips to his. Her tongue entered his mouth at the same time he entered her body. She moved to accommodate him, sliding down his length.

"Easy," he whispered. If she moved too fast, he would explode long before she finished.

"Nothing with you is easy," she whispered, her breath catching as he took her hips in his hands and raised and lowered her on top of him.

This was how he wanted to see her always. Completely uninhibited. Her eyes half-closed with passion. Trusting him.

Simon reached between them, his hand stealing into her curls to rub her heat. As she rode him, tight as a glove and much silkier, he toyed with her. She gasped and clenched around him when he found the source of her pleasure. Within moments, she was crying out against his shoulder as her body erupted around him. He quickly followed.

Simon pulled her against his chest to stroke her naked back. She drew deep breaths against him, her breath tickling his chin.

"I can't believe you would use me like that," he said, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. He couldn't help but laugh when she balled up her fist and hit his chest.

"Quiet," she whispered. "Let me enjoy this before more of your secrets intrude."

Thirty-One

Lily awoke to a bright stream of morning light that poured in through a crack between the drawn shade and the carriage window. She blinked her eyes open, realizing she'd slept in Simon's arms all night. His dark head rested against the wall of the coach, a slight rumbling snore escaping him. Even rumpled and unshaven, he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. And he was her husband.

Her husband.

That thought brought a smile to her lips as Lily leaned back against his massive chest. Never in all her days did she think a man could make her feel such passion. Never in all her days did she think she'd ever fall in love. She certainly never thought she'd marry, not a man like Simon anyway. Yet she had inexplicably done so.

She sighed, wondering if it was possible he felt the same for her. Then the unwanted image of Teresa Hamilton flashed in her mind and Lily's smile vanished. She doubted the sight of the stunning widow wrapping herself around Simon would ever leave her mind.

"A world of emotion crosses your face, love. Did

you know that?" Simon's baritone voice startled her, and Lily nearly leapt from his lap. However, his arm tightened around her, securing her safely against him. "Good morning, Your Grace."

Lily offered him a shy smile. "How did you ever get accustomed to being called that?"

He kissed her brow and then grinned at her. "I never thought about it. My father was the duke before me, and I always knew I would assume his role. Does the title make you uncomfortable?"

"A little," she admitted. "My father

wasn't

a duke."

Simon chuckled. "Don't worry, love. Soon you won't even cringe when someone calls you that. It'll just take a little time."

"Are you certain?"

He laughed again. "Every woman I know wants to be a duchess, Lily. There must be something to having the role."

"Hmm," she agreed. "Having you." Apparently she was daring this morning. It must have come from spending the night on his lap. Lily looked up at him and pressed a kiss to his stubbly chin.

Simon's arms tightened around her. "Watch yourself, love, or I'll ravish you again."

A giggle erupted from her throat at the thought. There was something very primitive about Simon, and Lily discovered she enjoyed that aspect of him quite a bit. "You beast."

His arms slackened, and he frowned at her.

Lily immediately missed his tight embrace and couldn't imagine what would change his mood so quickly. "Simon, what is it?"

His grey eyes bored into her as his frown deepened. "You think I'm a beast?"

That's what he was upset about? Lily ran her fingers along his jaw. "Yes," she said honestly, "but I like that about you."

Simon sat back against the squabs, his eyes widening in surprise. "You do?"

Lily nodded. "I

love

that about you."

The tiniest smile lifted his lips before he pulled her back against his chest. Just as he was about to capture her mouth, the coach came to an abrupt halt.