Page 24 of How to Fall for a Scoundrel (Her Majesty’s Rebels #2)

Ellie woke to the deliciously wicked sensation of Harry’s hand stroking her thigh.

She must have turned over in the night, because his big body was curled around her, his chest to her back, and her bottom was nestled against the flatteringly hard rod of his cock.

It wasn’t quite morning. The pale gray of dawn was just peeking through the heavy velvet curtains, and she smiled into the pillow as she wriggled provocatively against him.

Her chemise had rucked up, and his fingers inched it higher, pushing it up over her hip to bunch at her waist. His palm stroked the smooth curve of her bottom, then slid with cunning stealth between her legs.

Ellie bit her lip, feigning sleep, but Harry’s soft laugh as he gently kissed her shoulder proved she wasn’t fooling him one bit.

“Are you with me, sleepyhead?” he murmured. “You don’t want to sleep through this.” He paused, as if a new thought had occurred to him. “Unless you’re sore? I can stop if you wish.”

Ellie shook her head, even as his consideration warmed her. “I’m not sore.”

She waited with bated breath for his hand to move higher, to touch her where she ached to be touched, and he didn’t disappoint. She fisted the sheets beside her as he teased, his clever fingers sliding in the wetness of her body, but when she parted her legs in silent invitation, he withdrew his hand.

She groaned. “Tease!”

“Patience,” he chided. “Good things are worth waiting for.” He pushed her shoulder, gently guiding her to lie on her stomach, and she almost purred with pleasure as he stroked his hands over her thighs and spread her legs a little wider.

A flare of wickedness flickered inside her. Perhaps she was a secret wanton after all? Or maybe it was just this man who made her so.

“What did you say to me at Willingham’s?” she murmured. “In Italian, in the hallway?”

He kissed the back of her neck. “I said, Yes, sweetheart. Kiss me .”

“You said something else too.”

He chuckled at her tenacity. “I did. I said, Voglio scoparti contro questo muro finché non urli il mio nome .”

“And what does that mean?”

He moved over her and she caught her breath as the muscled length of him pressed her down into the soft mattress. His larger size was thrilling, his physical power undeniable, and the combination of threat and careful restraint made her stomach somersault with desire.

“It means, I want to fuck you against this wall until you scream my name .”

Ellie gasped, apparently not beyond being scandalized, despite her non-virginal state, and he laughed against her ear.

“That was very rude.”

“It was indeed.”

“Did you mean it?” she whispered, blushing.

“Absolutely. And someday I’ll show you exactly how it’s done, but for now, I think we should make use of this far more comfortable bed.”

His fingers slipped back between her legs, guiding the smooth head of his cock to her entrance, and she lifted her hips, bucking back against him eagerly. He entered her in one smooth thrust, and they both gasped at the glorious sensation.

“Better than stealing?” she whispered.

“Better than anything ,” he groaned. “Better than a royal pardon on the scaffold. God, you feel so good.”

Ellie spread her arms wide, pressing them into the bed, as he set a slow, languorous rhythm. He seemed determined to push her to the very heights of frustration, to turn her into a begging, babbling mess.

He called her a good girl, a bad girl, a beautiful vexation. He fisted her hair and kissed her throat and stroked her skin as if it were the softest cashmere and he’d die if he didn’t keep touching her.

By the time he finally took pity and quickened his pace she was almost delirious with desire. When her climax finally claimed her, it was a mercy, a shattering wave of pleasure that sucked her down into a glorious spiraling blackness then washed her up on a sparkling shore, breathless and reborn.

Harry stilled, still inside her, waiting until her last shudder had passed before resuming his torturously slow strokes. He didn’t last much longer. His breathing grew choppy, his thrusts more frantic, and just when Ellie began to think he’d forgotten his promise not to spend himself inside her, he withdrew from her body with a fevered groan.

He angled his cock down, between her thighs, rubbing himself along her cleft without actually entering her body. She gasped at the delicious new friction, but Harry let out a hiss of frustration. Quick as a flash, he rolled her over onto her back, grabbed her wrist, and wrapped her fingers around his cock.

His fevered gaze locked with hers as he thrust into her hand, and she tightened her grip, determined to help him reach his own climax.

The sight of him above her, his sleek, powerful body flexing under her control, sent a heady shot of feminine power straight through her veins. She pumped her hand, sliding against him, acting on pure impulse, and was thrilled when he threw back his head and found his release.

When he finally caught his breath, he looked down at her with a wry smile. “I knew from the moment we met that you’d be trouble.”

Ellie batted her eyelashes. “Me? I’ve never caused trouble in my life.”

He shook his head and glanced at the small brass carriage clock on his nightstand.

“It’s still early, but we need to get you back to King and Company before the streets get too busy.”

Ellie bit back a little stab of disappointment. He was only being practical. No point risking her reputation by having someone see his coach depositing her at Lincoln’s Inn Fields. That was how scandalous rumors started.

“You’re right. If you’ll let me use the bathing room, I’ll get cleaned up and we can be on our way.”

She slid off the bed and collected the green dress from where she’d discarded it the night before.

The mirror in the bathing room showed the full extent of her debauchery. Her hair, already a mess from having been pinned beneath the wig, was a riot of untamed waves. She looked thoroughly rumpled. But her skin was glowing with good health and her eyes held a suspiciously bright sheen. She looked exactly as she’d always imagined the phrase “well pleasured” would look.

Ruination clearly had its advantages.

She eyed the huge copper bathtub with envy. She would have loved the luxury of a hot, deep soak—she had aches in muscles she never knew existed—but Harry was doubtless keen to see the back of her and she was determined not to be gauche and unsophisticated.

The silk gown slid over her newly sensitive skin like a caress, and since she couldn’t reach the laces at the back, she slipped back into the bedroom for Harry’s assistance.

He was fully dressed, and for a disconcerting moment he looked like a stranger, standing across the room from her. And then he raised his brows, and smiled, and she pulled her hair over her shoulder and presented her back to him.

“Could you tighten my laces, please?”

He stepped close. “Of course.”

His fingers were deft and sure, and she wondered with a pang how many other corsets he’d encountered in his life. She stepped back from him as soon as he’d finished, and he tilted his head at her.

“All good?”

She wasn’t sure if he was asking about the tightness of her laces, or her general state of wellbeing, but she smiled at him and tried to imagine what other, more worldly women would say at a time like this.

“All good, thank you. Shall we go?”

He swept his hand toward the door. “After you.”