I’m not going to stop. You’re going to come for me, now .”
He swooped in and sucked her clitoris into his mouth with such stunning force, she lurched with a strangled scream.
Ecstasy burst inside her. Anne stiffened and convulsed, her orgasm rocking her body, as spasms rippled through her core, along his thrusting fingers. He grunted sharply, his mouth still firmly latched onto her, unrelenting. Digging her nails into her knees, she rode out the muscle-melting sensations, the shuddering contractions, until the final one ebbed.
Boneless and shaky, she felt him lower her legs and let them dangle over the edge of the desk. Her gown was bunched at her waist, her lower body still exposed.
Nicolas swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes ablaze with his physical need. “We’re not done,” he assured her, his voice rough with desire. Already his hands were on the ties of his breeches and he started to open them.
She didn’t want to be done.
Anne rose onto her elbows and was about to tell him how much she wanted to feel him inside her, and that she wanted to bring him to a voluptuous climax, just as he’d brought her, when she saw him freeze. His chin jerked up, his attention directed at the door.
It was then she heard it. Footsteps .
They were getting louder, closer.
Her stomach dropped. She sat up, twisted around and gasped. The door was ajar and had never been fully closed, much less locked.
Nicolas swore, each word a low snarl, laced with frustration and fury at the impending interruption. He raked both hands through his dark hair and let out a sharp breath. “We’ll have to finish this later.” He cupped her cheeks and gave her a quick hard kiss. “I may just kill whoever is about to walk through that door.” He pulled her skirts down over her legs. “Dress. Quickly.” He refastened his breeches.
Her heart thundered as her fumbling fingers went to work on her bodice.
Nicolas picked up books that had been knocked off the desk during their amorous encounter, straightening the area around them. She hadn’t realized they’d made such a mess.
The footsteps continued to approach at a strong and steady pace.
Finishing with her bodice, Anne slipped off the desk and onto her shaky legs, then smoothed her hair and her skirts, and checked her bodice again, making certain everything was secure.
Nicolas pulled her caleçons off the chair and stuffed them into the sleeve of his justacorps. He winked at her.
She felt her cheeks warm. “How do I look?” she asked.
He stepped closer. In her ear he whispered, “Like a woman who thoroughly enjoyed some carnal pleasures.” She heard the smile in his voice.
Heat crept down from her face to her chest. He stepped back.
“Don’t forget this.” Dangling from his finger was her gold locket.
“Thank you.” She quickly slipped it on and tucked the pendant into her bodice.
Nicolas dropped down onto the settee, opened one of the books he’d picked up, and was thumbing through it casually when Henriette pushed the door open and swept into the room.
She stopped, glanced at Nicolas and cocked a brow at Anne. Anne managed the semblance of a smile.
“A wonderful poem, Anne,” Nicolas said. “I enjoyed it very much.” He flipped more pages. “Ah, and this one, ‘One Spring Night’—absolutely lovely.”
Henriette cleared her throat.
Nicolas twisted around. “Oh, Henriette . . .” He smiled and rose, looking as innocent as a babe. “Good day to you.”
“Good day, Nicolas.” Henriette walked over to the desk.
Anne didn’t miss that Nicolas held the book strategically before him, covering his tented breeches. Nicolas met her gaze. His smoldering look weakened her knees. Outwardly, he put on a cool and polished performance. But on the inside, he burned for her.
Henriette pulled her locket out of her bodice and removed the key inside. “I see you are reading Anne’s poetry,” she said as she unlocked the desk drawer.
“Yes, and
He swooped in and sucked her clitoris into his mouth with such stunning force, she lurched with a strangled scream.
Ecstasy burst inside her. Anne stiffened and convulsed, her orgasm rocking her body, as spasms rippled through her core, along his thrusting fingers. He grunted sharply, his mouth still firmly latched onto her, unrelenting. Digging her nails into her knees, she rode out the muscle-melting sensations, the shuddering contractions, until the final one ebbed.
Boneless and shaky, she felt him lower her legs and let them dangle over the edge of the desk. Her gown was bunched at her waist, her lower body still exposed.
Nicolas swiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes ablaze with his physical need. “We’re not done,” he assured her, his voice rough with desire. Already his hands were on the ties of his breeches and he started to open them.
She didn’t want to be done.
Anne rose onto her elbows and was about to tell him how much she wanted to feel him inside her, and that she wanted to bring him to a voluptuous climax, just as he’d brought her, when she saw him freeze. His chin jerked up, his attention directed at the door.
It was then she heard it. Footsteps .
They were getting louder, closer.
Her stomach dropped. She sat up, twisted around and gasped. The door was ajar and had never been fully closed, much less locked.
Nicolas swore, each word a low snarl, laced with frustration and fury at the impending interruption. He raked both hands through his dark hair and let out a sharp breath. “We’ll have to finish this later.” He cupped her cheeks and gave her a quick hard kiss. “I may just kill whoever is about to walk through that door.” He pulled her skirts down over her legs. “Dress. Quickly.” He refastened his breeches.
Her heart thundered as her fumbling fingers went to work on her bodice.
Nicolas picked up books that had been knocked off the desk during their amorous encounter, straightening the area around them. She hadn’t realized they’d made such a mess.
The footsteps continued to approach at a strong and steady pace.
Finishing with her bodice, Anne slipped off the desk and onto her shaky legs, then smoothed her hair and her skirts, and checked her bodice again, making certain everything was secure.
Nicolas pulled her caleçons off the chair and stuffed them into the sleeve of his justacorps. He winked at her.
She felt her cheeks warm. “How do I look?” she asked.
He stepped closer. In her ear he whispered, “Like a woman who thoroughly enjoyed some carnal pleasures.” She heard the smile in his voice.
Heat crept down from her face to her chest. He stepped back.
“Don’t forget this.” Dangling from his finger was her gold locket.
“Thank you.” She quickly slipped it on and tucked the pendant into her bodice.
Nicolas dropped down onto the settee, opened one of the books he’d picked up, and was thumbing through it casually when Henriette pushed the door open and swept into the room.
She stopped, glanced at Nicolas and cocked a brow at Anne. Anne managed the semblance of a smile.
“A wonderful poem, Anne,” Nicolas said. “I enjoyed it very much.” He flipped more pages. “Ah, and this one, ‘One Spring Night’—absolutely lovely.”
Henriette cleared her throat.
Nicolas twisted around. “Oh, Henriette . . .” He smiled and rose, looking as innocent as a babe. “Good day to you.”
“Good day, Nicolas.” Henriette walked over to the desk.
Anne didn’t miss that Nicolas held the book strategically before him, covering his tented breeches. Nicolas met her gaze. His smoldering look weakened her knees. Outwardly, he put on a cool and polished performance. But on the inside, he burned for her.
Henriette pulled her locket out of her bodice and removed the key inside. “I see you are reading Anne’s poetry,” she said as she unlocked the desk drawer.
“Yes, and
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