When Seducing A Duke Read Online Free

might have someone to return to before the sun rose. He refused to think of anything but the two of them together in that room. Nothing else mattered.
    He brought his finger to her mouth, tracing the curve of her lower lip, brushing the sensitive flesh just inside. She met his gaze boldly, and flicked her tongue against the pad of his finger. The wet heat of her touch sent a wave of lust over him. She was a temptress—an arousing mix of sensual promise and innocent wonder.
    If he survived the night he would be sure to thank God for sending her to him, not that he deserved such a gift.
    They took turns caressing the features of each other’s faces. Never once did he try to remove her mask, nor she his. She seemed to understand his need to remain hidden.
    Her fingers brushed against him like the softest of feathers, so delicate and warm. Grey closed his eyes, giving himself up to the exquisite torture of her exploration. Her thumb slid across his lower lip and he flicked it with his tongue as she had done to him. She gasped in delight—surely the loveliest sound he’d ever heard.
    Glasses empty, Grey set both flutes on the table once more. This time when he came to her, he took her into his arms and brought her to her feet. The champagne made her relaxed and languid, but not unsteady. She stood, still letting Grey’s fingers tug her tiny sleeves gaping at her shoulders. Gently, he pulled them down her arms, and when they refused to go any further, he reached around her and tugged on the laces of her gown again. Slowly, the bodice loosened and finally drooped. The gown’s bustle was built in, so when the burgundy silk bagged around her hips, he was able to push it to the floor. He hooked an arm about her waist and lifted her out of the pool of fabric, setting her before him once more.
    No false modesty, no confident preening. This beautiful specimen of womanhood stood before him with nothing but honesty as his hungry gaze raked over her. She was still clothed, layers of delicate underthings hiding her flesh, but his mouth was as dry as desert at the sight of her.
    Grey’s gaze fell to the swells of her breasts, straining against the edge of her pretty pink satin corset. They would fill his hands, pliant and warm beneath his fingers. As she breathed, the blush hued petal of aureole peeked over the tiny rosette trim. He reached out and settled his fingers there.
    “Beautiful,” he murmured, lowering his head to place gentle kisses on the top of either breast, and then up to her collarbones and neck. “You smell like spring rain,” he told her, breathing in the gentle warmth of her skin.
    “Do you like rain?” she asked, breathlessly.
    “I do.” His gaze held hers. Her eyes bright as twin moons as he raised his fingers to her jaw. “It cleanses the world, leaves everything fresh and new in its wake. And it’s so clean and pure.” He dragged his thumb along her lips, down her chin. “So sweet and wet.”
    She smiled saucily at him. “Lucky for you England is such damp country.”
    He grinned. Even her wit was similar to Rose’s. “Indeed.”
    Then he kissed her again, this time with more hunger and passion than he’d shown before.
    His fingers—surprisingly unsteady—managed to make short work of the busk front of her corset, as her hands tugged at his shirt, pulling it free of his trousers. Grey released her long enough to pull the garment off and toss it across the room. When he reached for her again, she stopped him by bracing her hands against his waist. Her hands were so soft and warm, he sighed at the feel of them against his skin.
    “Wait,” she whispered. “I want to touch you.”
    Grey let his arms fall to his sides. “Then touch me.” Damn her for putting that note of pleading in his voice, but he was too far gone to let pride stop him now. She could bring him as low as she wanted so long as she kept touching him like he was something rare and special rather than the all too flawed man he