Page 17 of Just About a Rake (Ladies Who Dare #5)

A moment to rule all moments.

This was what she’d wanted from the very start. And if ever there were a moment to rule all moments, bringing this man to a trembling mess was it.

If I rule this moment, then I rule him. Not in the way of chains or commands, but in the way that left him breathless beneath her touch, that made him look at her as though she were both his temptation and his undoing. His doom and deliverance.

He, who commanded the gaze of countless women with a mere smile. Who had no intention of ever being shackled. He was here, unguarded in ways that had nothing to do with flesh—exposed in a manner she had never seen before. It was in the way his breath trembled slightly whenever he spoke, in the fleeting spark that danced in his eyes. Even in the way his fingers lingered on her skin, hesitant yet bold.

And she had done that.

The knowledge sent a thrill through her, a heady rush that ignited her blood. To bring him—this unrepentant rake—to such a state was intoxicating. To see him as he truly was. Stripped bare of his defenses, he was no longer the Earl of Dare, the infamous rake, but simply a man.

And tonight, he was her man.

Yes, this moment was hers to rule.

Her breath caught when Dare stepped back, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it over the chair at the desk. His hands moved to the buttons of his waistcoat, and in one swift motion, it joined the jacket—and was seconds later followed by his shirt.

The man didn’t play about.

He grinned at her. “Are you enjoying the view?”

Lord, yes. No mental pictures could compete with this . This was... not quite perfection, but not quite not perfection. She had seen a muscled chest before—but never like this. Never with all that strength, all that power, directed at conquering, directed at her .

She nodded, and he chuckled.

His body was no overly chiseled sculpture, but it was a body that might have inspired one. A masterpiece in its own right.

It inspired her—to take action.

She reached back to tug at the laces of her gown, then slowly pulled the sleeves from her shoulders. She’d dressed smartly for tonight. No complicated dress with complicated strappings.

Instead, a gown to aid in her ruin.

She must have done right, for his eyes shot flames across her skin. She grinned and tugged the sleeves lower.

“What are you doing?” he asked, tone raw.

She smile widened. “Oh, my apologies. Did you want to do the undressing?”

He cursed but didn’t move an inch. “Have you always been such a tease?”

“You know I have been.” Her gaze tracked over his muscles to his trousers. “You should remove them, too.”

“So demanding.”

“I already saw your upper body at the boxing, now I want to see the rest.”

“You saw? I thought you left?”

“I saw enough to make me not want to leave.” However, some things took precedence over male chests. “Are you removing your trousers or not?”

“Of course.” Both hands moved to the buttons of his trousers. “As the lady wishes.”

Leonora watched with suspended breath as he undid those buttons achingly slowly before pushing his trousers down his legs.

Lord above.

She swallowed at the magnificent sight.

“Should I remove them completely?”

“As you like,” she just about managed not to choke out.

His grin turned wolfish. “What about my boots?”

“Whatever is fastest.” She stepped up to him and pushed her hands up his chest. A sigh escaped her at the hard planes beneath her fingertips. “However, we cannot undress as though we have the whole night at our disposal.” Secret room or not, the danger of being caught vibrated along her flesh in ripples. Forget the night, an urgency sparked the air that couldn’t help but catch Leonora’s breath as she drew in that magnificent body of his.

He loomed over her half-naked, hand closing around his cock, eyes boring into hers.

She inhaled sharply.

Where on earth should she look? That erotic sight of his chest or his face? Was there a right way to stare or a wrong way? Leonora opted to spend a few seconds on each delightful region.

He suddenly chuckled. “This is a first.”

“What is?” Leonora stilled, slowly moving her gaze from a certain provocative image back to his eyes.

“Staring at me so blatantly like I am dessert.”

“A lemon cake, my favorite.”

He chuckled, retreating until the back of his legs met a sofa. With a swift tug, he pulled her down with him, on top of him. Leonora gasped as he shifted, one hand slipping behind her back, the other guiding her legs around his waist. “This is sweet?” His fingers traced up her thigh, dragging d her skirts along with them.

Sweet, yes.

“You’re so bloody beautiful.”

“You’re not too bad—”

He captured her lips in his, his tongue swallowing the last of her words. “More touching and less talking.”

Leonora obliged his request and dragged her hands down warm hard muscle. “As my rake demands.”

His lips were on her again, dragging, sucking, tongue plundering. She couldn’t get enough of this man. Enough of this moment. Enough of his touch. He was stealing the very breath from her lungs, this kiss a claim, a demand, a surrender all at once.

His hand skimmed down her back, mapping her with possessive strokes, fingers pressing into her waist as though committing every one of her curves to memory. Heat pooled low in her belly, a delicious ache curling around her spine as she arched closer, seeking more—more of him, more of this fire, more of everything he had to give.

Everything that happened in this hidden library . . .

So good.

She had chosen this. Dare had accepted. Therefore any consequence was of no consequence. They were two people who had made a choice.

“Bloody hell,” he breathed against her lips. “I can’t hold back.”

The urgency in his voice made her smile. “No one is asking you to hold back.”

He cursed. “Christ, Leonora, you cannot say that to a man.”

“Why not?” She pressed into him provocatively. “I can’t hold back either. Or do you want me to hold back?

“Hell no.” He let out a shaky breath. “Don’t you dare do that.”

She kissed him on the mouth. “I won’t, but you must not either.”

And then his fingers were there . Circling. Entering. Leonora moaned into his mouth. Thank heaven she’d dressed with temptation in mind, and it was paying off. No frills, no fuss—just easy access to ruin.

“I wish I could undo your hair.”

She shut her eyes and drew in all the sensations of his touch, his whispers, the sensation of his fingers. “Not tonight.” His teeth grazed her chin, a sharp, fleeting nip that caused goose flesh to erupt all over her body.

Not tonight?

What did she even mean with that? The thought barely had time to settle before he stole it away, replacing it with the slow, maddening stroke of his fingers teasing another moan from her lips. Then—oh. Something else. Something bigger. Nudging.

Oh, God.

It was happening.

His nose buried in the curve of her neck, and that wild, intoxicating scent of his enveloping her. His tongue followed, sweeping over her skin, tasting her. Then his teeth—with just enough pressure to make her breath catch—dragged over her collarbone.

And then he was inside her.

Leonora gasped at the fullness.

In all the time she’d spent imagining tonight, she never once truly grasped how it would feel. Straddling him, her knees pushing into the pillows on either side of his hips, him inside her, hidden away in a secret room... In her wildest dreams she could never have envisioned this. It was more. More consuming, more intoxicating. And yet there was something else, something she hadn’t expected.

Power.

A whisper of it slid through her, faint but undeniable.

His breath fanned over her jaw as he dragged his mouth to her lips. “How do you feel?”

“Ruined.”

He chuckled. “Does ruined feel good?” He gave a light thrust, and she gasped.

“Supremely satisfying.” Thrilling. So many choices meant nothing. So many choices could be glossed over with a smile. Others, like seducing Dare, didn’t mean nothing and could never be glossed over. This would stay with her all her life. It might even govern the rest of her days. The thought should have terrified her. Instead, it settled deep, like him—a truth she had no desire to fight.

She pressed her thighs snug against his hips, anchoring herself to him.

I do not care.

She clutched his shoulders, using them as leverage as she rolled her hips in time with his thrusts, claiming him as much as he claimed her. His pace quickened, and Leonora found herself on the edge of splendor. His hand reached between their bodies, teasing over sensitive flesh, pleasure racing through her—sharp, uncontainable, and all-consuming. She rocked against him, not quite able to describe the feeling building inside her. A part of that pleasure was him—his body, his hands, his mouth dragging all over hers. It was everything all at once. Could she stay here forever, suspended in this exquisite torment, this unbearable bliss?

“Christ,” he growled. Then, with a low, hoarse voice, he called her name—almost like a prayer.

It left her shattering in his arms.

And she cried out his name in return.

*

He didn’t die.

Dear God, he didn’t die. His heart was still racing as though the devil were on his heels, but he was still alive. That was something, at least. More than something was the woman in his arms. In all his rakish life, he had never let a woman take the top position, and yet it came so naturally with Leonora. The way she moved with such seductive confidence, it was as if she had always meant to be there.

He gathered her close but was unwilling to dwell too much on that thought. Even so, he didn’t want to let go, hated that their time here would end soon, and that this might be all there would ever be between them. Yet Dare couldn’t say he felt any regret. He didn’t like to entertain that emotion, anyway, and they had promised not to. But something, call it a feeling, some foreign sort of nagging, or perhaps something in between, tugged at him relentlessly.

He decided not to dwell on that either.

Leonora wiggled against him, snuggling closer. “Shall we just stay here forever?”

“Of course.” He’d just find a way to bolt the door shut.

A chuckle was her only answer.

His fingers itched to undo her hair.

“Have I ruined you according to your wishes?” He promptly grimaced. What a thing to ask a woman. To ask her , an innocent. No. Not an innocent any longer.

“Oh, yes,” she said, her voice soft with satisfaction. “You’ve exceeded my expectations.”

Dear Christ, Dare.

Did you truly take a woman’s innocence? He stared at Leonora, who nestled in her arms.

Yes. He had.

And he would ravage her all night long if they weren’t in a secret space in someone else’s house. It struck him then—it was the first time in his life he hadn’t left the minute after his pleasure had been taken. There was no rush to leave. Instead, a strange sense of contentment, unfamiliar yet indisputable, settled within him. It was a refreshing change, to say the least.

“They couldn’t have been that high, then,” Dare said after a moment.

She laughed. “Are you fishing for a compliment?”

He trailed a finger over her jaw. Such a beautiful face. Such sparkling eyes. “Only if you are the fish.”

“You know, I do feel like a fish at the moment, a lazy fish.” She settled deeper, nudging against him with a playful shift of her hips.

“Don’t get too comfortable.” His hands gripped her hips to keep her steady. Christ, she did want to kill him, didn’t she?

She wiggled again, a teasing smirk curling on her lips. “Says the man who got comfortable.”

“Don’t move,” Dare groaned, his grip tightening. “Or we won’t leave tonight.”

“Is that a threat?” she teased, her voice a breathy challenge.

No. Minx. “A promise.”

She reared back to look at him, the sudden shift in her posture leaving him both aching with loss and in torment down below. “Tell me, have I reformed you?”

“God, no.” She’d corrupted him. “Do you wish to?”

She shook her head. “Such ghastly business.”

He laughed. “Seduction is ghastly business?”

“Are you saying I can reform you with seduction? How cheap you are.”

“Well, if such a thing could be done, it would be you who could do it.” He leaned up just enough to kiss the curve of her neck lightly, his lips trailing over her skin. Bloody heaven.

“Your faith in me is remarkable.”

He chuckled softly, her fingers brushing over his chest, also reluctant. “We should go. We’ve been gone too long. Heart must be looking for you.”

Her smile turned sweeter. “Heart is not here.”

“He’s not here?” This surprised him. No wonder Leonora had come prepared. He damn well hadn’t stood a chance. “Strange for him. Then your friend, Lady Leeds?”

“She knows not to look for me.”

“Lady Leonora,” he claimed a quick kiss, “how dangerous of you.”

“Well, I won’t go so far as to say that.” Her eyes narrowed, a lovely sight made even more striking by the flush on her cheeks. “Are you going to stop flirting with me after this?”

A feeling of protest burst open immediately in his chest. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Are you jesting?” She gave him a saucy look. “Who would I flirt with if not you? The Duke of Calstone?”

“I shouldn’t feel this relieved,” he said with a grin.

She kissed his chin. “You’re that attached to our sparring matches?”

Sparring matches? Heh. They could probably be considered as such. “I suppose I have become a bit attached.”

She chuckled. “Now it’s my turn to say I shouldn’t feel this relieved.”

His finger caught a stray lock of hair and twirled it around his finger. “Hearing you repeat my words is quite frightening.”

“Because I am a woman?”

“Ye—” Blue eyes met his, and he swallowed the s . “I take that back. It’s a refreshing change.” Like so many things about her. Truthfully, nothing Leonora could say would ever be disturbing to him. Not really. The only disturbing thing was that she could make him question his own damn words. His body. His mind.

Leonora pinched his side, causing him to jerk. “You know what your problem is?”

Of course. “Tell me.”

“You are too straightlaced and uptight for a rake.”

“Is that my problem?”

“Yes. You don’t know how to let your laces loose.”

Dare couldn’t help but laugh. “Then I shall work on this problem, I give you my word I shall let loosen my laces more often.”

“Please call me over for the show.”

“You are a damn witch.” Bewitching him with her smiles, her touches, her light.

She cocked her head. “Do you always swear like this?”

“Only when I’m bewitched. Only with you.”

She laughed. “Don’t jest.”

He wasn’t jesting. He felt bewitched. In the past, he had found himself in many awkward and questionable situations, but this one... He couldn’t quite wrap his mind beyond this one.

Leonora.

The witch.

The temptress witch.

How long would this spell last? A throb bloomed in the center of his chest at the unbidden question which had no business in his head. Because the answer came to him even more unbidden. The right course of action would be to stop here, to have no regrets, and to never tease and flirt with her again. If he didn’t...

“You know, my brother threatened to marry me off if I didn’t stay away from you.”

Dare stilled. Beg pardon? “He said as much?”

“He made a threat.”

“Is that what tonight’s is all about?”

She shook her head. “Nine parts no, one part yes. I don’t care to be threatened into anything. I shall ruin myself before I allow it.”

“Well, you are ruined now, little temptress.”

Her arms wound around his neck, her eyes sparkling down at him. “I was ruined the moment I was born unprotected by the parasol of the sanctity of marriage.”

So admirable, this woman.

Ah hell, damnation, and everything in between.

It was one of those nights. The kind where Dare felt in his bones sleep would not be his friend. How many times had these nights occurred? How many of them had he spent alone?

The number seemed to be infinite.

Of course, it would help if he had company, but he never wanted to stay longer with a woman than was necessary. Until this moment, when he didn’t want to leave. For the first time, he was tempted to spend the whole night with a woman. But his temptress wouldn’t have that, would she?

“Then my only question is this,” Dare drawled against her skin, so damn reluctant to end the moment he wanted to howl. “Was one moment of ruination enough or do you require another?”