without breaking her gaze, she reached up and unfastened the buttons along the front of her gown. She parted the fabric and revealed a very pretty but rather sheer chemise beneath.
“No,” he whispered, but could not make himself move. She reached out and took his hand, and guided it to her nearly naked flesh.
“Yes,” she insisted. “Please. Now.”
He growled out desire so powerful that he could have torn her apart with it and ground his mouth back to hers as he squeezed the breast offered to him like a feast to a starving man.
She gasped into his mouth and arched into him as he began to pluck one hard nipple with his thumb, over and over, in a rhythm that he had designed to drive her wild. Her hips began to rise and fall in time to his touch, her breath short and hot against his lips.
He wanted to lick her, he wanted to stroke her, he wanted to press himself inside of her and make her moan his name. There had never been another woman to make him feel so animal in his desire. And there had never been another woman to make him feel so tender in his love for her.
He knew it wasn’t possible, but his heart and his body led him in a different direction from his screaming mind. And they were far more powerful in this moment.
He dragged his mouth away from hers, down her throat, down across her collarbone, until he latched on to the same nipple he had been teasing with his thumb.
“Oh my God,” she grunted as he sucked her hard through the sheer fabric, swirled his tongue around her, gave her exactly what he knew she needed without even asking. Because he knew her and he loved her and there was a bond between them that gave him answers without having to ask questions.
“Paul,” she groaned, her hands threading through his hair, holding him against her as she shivered with building pleasure.
He began to ratchet her skirts up, his hand trembling as he did it. He’d been dreaming of her slick, tight heat since the last time he touched her intimately, and now he couldn’t resist it.
“Let me touch you,” she breathed, her fingers trailing down to drag alone the front of his trouser flap.
The feel of her hands, even through the heavy fabric, was almost too much to take. He thrust his hips toward her with a low moan and she smiled up at him in a combination of understanding and triumph.
God, how he loved her.
He shoved that thought aside along with the thoughts that followed about how desperate that feeling was and instead delved into kissing her as his fingers finally found the slick entrance of her sex.
“God,” he murmured against her mouth. “You are a revelation.”
“Please, won’t you take me?” she asked, gasping as he stroked over her the same way he had in the wax museum. “Make me yours in a way no one can take away, no one can change.”
He pulled back and stared down at her. Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears and want, her breath short from desire. She was a wicked, heartbreaking temptation.
“Georgina,” he whispered, trying to get up the ability to pull away as he knew he should.
But before he could do that, the door behind them flew open. Paul pivoted, rolling to block the intruder’s view of Georgina’s half-naked body in the bed.
His jaw dropped open, his eyes widened, for there in the entryway, his face turning purple, was Georgina’s father, flanked on one side by Marcus.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hickson roared.
Chapter Seven
Georgina had been perfectly aware that being caught in this position by her father would be embarrassing. But as she tugged her bodice up and smoothed her skirts down to cover herself, she was almost swept away by the humiliation. Her father just stood there, angry, puffing like a bull and staring at her as if she had stolen something.
“What the hell are you thinking, Georgina? Coming to this…this disgusting place without a maid and letting this fortune hunter trick you into a bed?” he barked as he
“No,” he whispered, but could not make himself move. She reached out and took his hand, and guided it to her nearly naked flesh.
“Yes,” she insisted. “Please. Now.”
He growled out desire so powerful that he could have torn her apart with it and ground his mouth back to hers as he squeezed the breast offered to him like a feast to a starving man.
She gasped into his mouth and arched into him as he began to pluck one hard nipple with his thumb, over and over, in a rhythm that he had designed to drive her wild. Her hips began to rise and fall in time to his touch, her breath short and hot against his lips.
He wanted to lick her, he wanted to stroke her, he wanted to press himself inside of her and make her moan his name. There had never been another woman to make him feel so animal in his desire. And there had never been another woman to make him feel so tender in his love for her.
He knew it wasn’t possible, but his heart and his body led him in a different direction from his screaming mind. And they were far more powerful in this moment.
He dragged his mouth away from hers, down her throat, down across her collarbone, until he latched on to the same nipple he had been teasing with his thumb.
“Oh my God,” she grunted as he sucked her hard through the sheer fabric, swirled his tongue around her, gave her exactly what he knew she needed without even asking. Because he knew her and he loved her and there was a bond between them that gave him answers without having to ask questions.
“Paul,” she groaned, her hands threading through his hair, holding him against her as she shivered with building pleasure.
He began to ratchet her skirts up, his hand trembling as he did it. He’d been dreaming of her slick, tight heat since the last time he touched her intimately, and now he couldn’t resist it.
“Let me touch you,” she breathed, her fingers trailing down to drag alone the front of his trouser flap.
The feel of her hands, even through the heavy fabric, was almost too much to take. He thrust his hips toward her with a low moan and she smiled up at him in a combination of understanding and triumph.
God, how he loved her.
He shoved that thought aside along with the thoughts that followed about how desperate that feeling was and instead delved into kissing her as his fingers finally found the slick entrance of her sex.
“God,” he murmured against her mouth. “You are a revelation.”
“Please, won’t you take me?” she asked, gasping as he stroked over her the same way he had in the wax museum. “Make me yours in a way no one can take away, no one can change.”
He pulled back and stared down at her. Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears and want, her breath short from desire. She was a wicked, heartbreaking temptation.
“Georgina,” he whispered, trying to get up the ability to pull away as he knew he should.
But before he could do that, the door behind them flew open. Paul pivoted, rolling to block the intruder’s view of Georgina’s half-naked body in the bed.
His jaw dropped open, his eyes widened, for there in the entryway, his face turning purple, was Georgina’s father, flanked on one side by Marcus.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Hickson roared.
Chapter Seven
Georgina had been perfectly aware that being caught in this position by her father would be embarrassing. But as she tugged her bodice up and smoothed her skirts down to cover herself, she was almost swept away by the humiliation. Her father just stood there, angry, puffing like a bull and staring at her as if she had stolen something.
“What the hell are you thinking, Georgina? Coming to this…this disgusting place without a maid and letting this fortune hunter trick you into a bed?” he barked as he
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