Page 71 of The Danger of Desire

His jaw tightened. “God... bloody hell... that’s it... Come for me, dearling. Please, my sweet, sweet... Delia...”

Then he drove into her hard one last time, and with a cry, she vaulted over into paradise.

Warren wasn’t certain how long he’d stood there after he’d exploded inside his soon-to-be wife. Long enough for him to soften inside her, yet not long enough that he wanted to let go of her.

God, had he really just taken her like some tart on a table on a rooftop? That wasn’t the way to endear a respectable woman to him.

Yet she hadn’t seemed to mind. Judging from the way she’d clenched on his cock as she’d come, she’d found pleasure in it, too.

As she let out a long sigh of what he hoped was satisfaction, he buried a kiss in her lovely neck, fragrant with her lemony scent. “So. Are you still worried about... not pleasing me?”

“DidI please you?” she asked, a hint of coyness in her voice.

“As if you need to ask.”

He lifted her off the table so she was wrapped around him, and she squealed. Strutting around with her clinging to him, he said, “I can demonstrate again exactly howmuchyou pleased me, if you want.”

She laughed down at him, his wanton wife-to-be. “Perhaps we should savesomethingfor the wedding night.”

He cast her a mock frown. “Oh, very well. If you insist.” And in truth, she was probably sore, anyway.

Letting her slip down his body inch by intoxicating inch, he took her mouth for a long, hot kiss that had her straining against him. Only then did he pull free.

She made a moue of protest, and he laughed. “That, brat, is so you’ll be just as eager for me tomorrow night as I’m going to be for you.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” she said with a secretive little smile that had his body rousing again.

But before he could do anything about it, she strolled over to the table. He followed, fastening up his drawers and trousers as he went.

She laid her hand on his coat. “It appears I’ve given your valet more cause for complaint.”

He looked over her shoulder to see a spot of blood staining the inside of his coat. It sobered him. “I didn’t hurt youtoobadly, did I?”

“No. I’m told that a little bit of blood is normal.”

“Told by whom? Your sister-in-law, who informed you that a woman must ‘endure’ marital relations? I don’t know if I’d trust her.”

“The deflowering part wasn’t that bad, truly.” She faced him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “And what came after was quite... nice.”

“Nice?” He dragged her against him. “Nice?I’ll show you nice, you teasing wench.”

As she gave a giddy laugh, he bent to kiss her.

Suddenly a noise sounded from far below them. “Warren? Delia? Are you there?”

Damn. Clarissa.

“Shh,” he breathed against Delia’s lips. “If we stay very quiet, perhaps she’ll go away.”

Two floors below them, the door to the folly opened and closed.

“Where are you?” A voice came wafting up the spiral staircase.

“That’s Brilliana.” Delia broke free of him. “And she willnotgo away. Besides, they’re sure to see my bonnet hanging on the window latch.”

Bloody hell, she was right.

As she hurried to restore her clothing to rights, he picked up his hat, then went to examine his coat. The blood hadn’t gone through to the other side, thank God, though the coat was pretty much ruined now.