Free A Marriage Made in Mayfair by Tamara Gill Page A

against her cheeks, and the loss of his touch, his kiss, left a hollow feeling in her chest. Suzanna swallowed and couldn’t form one reason against denying him further liberties, to allow herself to love him in the most intimate of ways a woman could love a man. He loved her, had asked for her hand in marriage. Should she say yes? No one needed ever to know they’d slept together before they wed.
    It was a risk, on more than one level. She could become enceinte . Such a scandal would force her to marry a man her brother loathed. It was all very confusing and becoming more so with every kiss Royce bestowed beneath her ear.
    The wooden side of the desk touched her legs as he moved her back. Suzanna, as if she weighed no more than a leaf, was lifted upon it. Paper scrunched under her bottom. She bit her lip when Royce’s hand slid her silk gown above her knee. He stepped between her legs and for the first time in her life, the desire of a man lay against her own heated flesh.
    His hardness did odd things to her body. She could not touch him enough. She wanted Royce to end the sweet ache between her thighs. She pulled him closer, wanting no space between them, and touched herself against his hardness. A sigh escaped as the contact went some way to dispel her need.
    “We should stop before we cannot, Suzanna.”
    Royce’s hunger-filled plea made her decision simple. She could not stop and did not want to miss lying with a man she loved and had loved all along, if she was truthful with herself. If she refused his offer of marriage, settled into a marriage of convenience with another gentleman and if by so doing she never again experienced this fire burning through her soul, her decision to stop would be forever regretted.
    Suzanna refused to live with regret. She met his gaze and untied his cravat, hoping Royce did not notice her shaking fingers. He drew in a deep breath and Suzanna read in his pained visage his inner fight between desire and conscience.
    “I think,” she said, sliding his coat from his shoulders and revelling in the taut muscles beneath his shirt, “it is too late to stop.”
    Suzanna could not tell who undressed who more quickly; she only knew there was no time to waste. The gown she wore was no impediment to Royce’s competent hands, and was soon, along with her domino, tossed onto the already discarded clothing piled at his lordship’s feet. The small room enfolded them in warmth and her skin shivered in sensual awakening.
    Royce came against her and pulled her close. The hair on his chest was unlike anything she had ever felt before. It tickled and tempted at the same time. Suzanna licked her lips while her gaze devoured his upper body. Her fingers traced his chest and then moved to touch the muscles that descended like a ladder toward sin. A sin she fully intended to experience.
    Suzanna murmured her delight when he laid her down upon the desk. He cupped her face and kissed her hard, his tongue demanding and tangling with her own. Suzanna welcomed his vigour and replied in turn as well as she could. Cool air caressed her silk-clad leg when he rucked her shift up to her waist. She rubbed her leg against his side and he growled.
    She let her legs fall open and allowed him to settle between her thighs. Her skin burned, her body begging for something unknown but was soon to find out. Suzanna moaned when his hand cupped her most sensitive flesh and stroked.
    Yes …
    Royce was masterful at seduction, and without doubt, the rumours she had heard about town of his prowess as a lover were correct. Royce knew how to please a woman. He stroked her sex—soft, round movements tormenting her to madness. Suzanna opened her eyes when a low, seductive chuckle tickled her ear. She kissed him and allowed herself the delight of touching his back, the muscles flexing beneath his skin with his every movement.
    “I must have you.” Royce shoved his breeches down and Suzanna’s mouth went dry. Never had she seen a man