Page 14 of The Duke and Lady Scandal (Princes of London #1)

Allie squeezed Ben’s hand when the carriage finally rolled to a stop.

He paid the cabbie and then led her into the house. This time, they didn’t stop at the drawing room. He led her straight to his private room.

The spacious chamber encompassed two distinct areas, one he clearly used for work and one that contained a bed.

Ben moved to stand behind her and help her with her coat. He took both hers and his and laid them across a chair nearby.

The fire had gone out in the grate, but her entire body was flushed with warmth. Anticipation. Need. Desire. She’d never felt any of them as fiercely as she did with Ben.

He noticed her glance at the grate and immediately moved to lay a fire, assembling the wood and kindling with care. Clearly, he had a strategy and she waited patiently, watching him.

And watching him kindled a fire inside her too.

The muscles of his chest and shoulders always strained the buttons of his shirtfront, but now she got to focus on the muscles of his thighs. They tensed and shifted as he moved.

He was such a gorgeous man. She’d seen a thousand statues of men in her life—in books, in the British Museum, in her own family’s shop—and none of them could compare to Benedict Drake’s physique. At least not in her estimation.

As soon as the fire sparked to life, he dusted off his hands. The air immediately grew warmer.

“There. That will cure a bit of the chill.”

“Or you could just wrap me in your arms.”

He came to her without hesitation and twined his arms around her waist. She lifted her hands to his shoulders.

“You’re such a temptress.”

One of his hands dipped low on her back, almost as far as it had that night in the garden when he’d cupped her backside and lifted her effortlessly against him.

“Are you sure about this, Alexandra?”

he asked in a husky whisper.

She didn’t answer quickly, wanting him to know that she had given this proper thought. This was a step beyond any choice she’d ever made in her life—something that was wholly her own, against rules others and society had set for her, and carrying consequences she would have to be willing to bear if her siblings or Jo or, heaven forbid, Lady Wellingdon ever found out.

But she was done with doubting herself.

She gazed into Ben’s eyes, wondering if a man of such strength and cleverness ever felt as she had for so much of her life.

“Do you ever doubt yourself?”

she asked softly as he stroked a thumb across the back of her hand.

“Of course. More than I care to admit.”

He offered her a soft smile. “Not about you or this moment,”

he rushed to add. “Not even about my work.” He hesitated, swallowing hard, and a pained look came into his eyes that she wished she could soothe away. “My doubts haunt me from the past. Choices I’d change if I could.”

The revelation showed that he trusted her, and she understood the preciousness of that. Leaning forward, Allie lifted her hand to his cheek. The green depths of his eyes sparked when he looked at her.

“What would you change?”

He swallowed and ducked away from her a moment before meeting her gaze squarely. “My brother. I . . . failed him. I should have tried harder to save him.”

“Save him?”

“From his bad choices.”

“I’m certain you tried.”

Allie couldn’t imagine him doing anything but the utmost for those he cared about.

“Not as hard as I could have. I washed my hands of him at one point. Lost faith in him.”

He’d gone off into memory, staring at the fire once more. “He died many years ago.”

“I’m so sorry, Ben.”

Allie stroked a hand down his arm, feeling the hard swell of his muscles beneath the fabric.

Her touch softened his expression; the haunted look was gone.

“Please don’t doubt yourself, Alexandra.”

“My siblings doubt me.”

She wasn’t certain why the admission bubbled up, but once it was out, the truth of it made her eyes burn.

“Then they don’t see you clearly.”

He cupped her face, feathering his gaze over each feature as she’d become used to him doing.

“But you do?”

she asked on a breathy whisper.

“I do.”

Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss against her cheek. “I see that you’re clever.”

He slid his hand along her neck, tipping her chin up and then bending to place a hot kiss at the base of her throat. “I see that you’re determined.” Stroking his fingers across her skin, he reached up to grip her nape. “I see that you’re brave.”

When he stalled, his breath coming in hot heated gusts against her skin, she barely managed to whisper, “What else?”

A low, delicious chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he lifted his head to look at her again.

“I see that you’re beautiful, Miss Alexandra Prince.”

“In some ways, it feels as if I’ve been uncertain my whole life. But in this, I’m not. I want this moment.”

She curled her fingers along the edge of his collar, stroking one finger up his neck. “I want you.”

A tremor rippled through him. She felt it underneath her fingertips.

“And you?”

she whispered. “Are you certain?”

“Absolutely.”

He bent and nuzzled her cheek. “My only struggle is patience.”

Allie smiled, tilting toward the feel of his stubbled jaw next to hers. “Are you usually impatient?”

He didn’t seem to possess her impulsive nature. A detective needed to be methodical, surely.

He lifted his head and stared down at her, his eyes a molten green, the stubble on his jaw highlighting the sharpness of that rigid line.

“Not usually, but I haven’t wanted anything this much in a very long time.”

He lifted his hands to the neck of her gown and slid a button free, then stopped and drew in a sharp breath.

Allie reached for the buttons of his shirt, willing him to continue with hers, but he still hesitated.

“What is it?”

she whispered. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to strip off every stitch of your clothing. Pull every pin from your hair. And lay you out on that bed.”

He flicked his gaze to the spot. “I’ve imagined you that way.”

Allie slid her fingers between two buttons of his shirt to feel the hot, bare skin underneath.

“I want that,”

she confessed, her breath shaky because her body had begun to hum with a need she’d never felt before. Not like this.

“Nothing happens until you’re ready, Alexandra.”

He rasped her name so deliciously she felt as if he’d stroked her skin. “We’ll take it slow.”

“But I’m not sure I want to take it slow.”

Allie reached up to unfasten the buttons at the neck of her gown.

Ben smiled and moved around behind her. “May I help?”

“Oh, most of the hooks are in the front. Just those few at the back.”

He placed a hand on her back, one heavy point of tantalizing heat. “Maybe it’s best if I don’t help. I might be tempted to rip something.”

As she continued unfastening her bodice, he moved away from her and over to poke at the fire.

She preferred his attention on her, but his momentary distance allowed her a moment to take in his room more thoroughly. A desk sat near the window, its top covered with intriguing objects. She wandered over as she worked her buttons free.

Much like his desk at work, there was an inkwell and nib pens, a blotter, a jar of glue, even a smooth, flat stone like the one she’d seen at Scotland Yard.

“Your desk at home is just as full of documents as your one at work,”

she told him with genuine interest. “Do you ever sleep?”

“Not as often as I should.”

Even as she pulled the fabric of her bodice free of her skirt, she couldn’t resist reaching out with her other hand to run her fingertips along the piles of documents and various objects he used as paperweights.

“You didn’t like it when I did this at Scotland Yard,”

she teased.

“You noticed,”

he said, his voice deep and husky as he left the fire and came back to her.

“I noticed everything about you.”

She didn’t mind confessing now how much he’d intrigued her. Reaching for his shirtfront, she tugged him closer. “Especially the unique shade of your eyes.”

“Is it unique?”

“Green with flecks of gold.”

Allie lifted onto her toes, letting him take her weight and studied the depths of his eyes. There was a kaleidoscope of colors hidden in the mossy green, but what she liked most was how they blazed with desire now. “Green amber,”

she said softly. “You may recall that I blurted it like a ninny.”

“You were talking about my eyes.”

He murmured the words as if fascinated by the realization.

“I was struck by them. By you.”

“And I by you.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist, and the heat of him warmed her much more than the fire. “Even when you mussed my desk.”

Allie reached up and slid his tie from his neck. Deftly, he helped her slip her unbuttoned bodice from her shoulders.

“So if I made your desk messy again, you wouldn’t mind?”

she teased.

He answered by wrapping her in his arms and lifting her onto the edge of his desk. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

With one finger under her chin, he tipped her head up and took her lips.

Allie pressed her hands to his chest, relishing the fierce thrash of his heartbeat. Then her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, and she worked at each one impatiently.

Ben tugged at the fabric of her skirt, gathering it up until he’d raised it and her petticoat up to her thighs.

“How is it possible to be this soft?”

he asked, his fingers sliding along the inner edge of her thigh.

A shiver chased down her spine, but it wasn’t cold. Heat spread out from every spot where his skin met hers.

Which made her want his touch everywhere.

“Wait,”

she whispered, and he instantly stilled.

Allie slid off the desk and onto her feet and turned her back to him. “Will you help with my skirt and petticoat?”

He fumbled with the hook on her skirt, but it might have been because he’d bent to press kisses against her shoulder, her neck, and the wicked spot behind her ear that shot heat straight to her core.

Soon he’d pushed her skirt over her hips, then her petticoat, and she worked the hooks and eyes of her corset at the same time. Soon she stood in only her chemise and stockings and drawers, and he helped her pull the chemise over her head.

She turned toward him, suddenly chilled, and he took her lips. Then he wrapped his arms around her, and she felt safe and warm and knew she was right where she was meant to be.

She reached down for the fastenings of his trousers, yearning to discard another layer of fabric that separated his body from hers.

“Not yet,”

he told her. “Let me take you to bed.”

He bent to scoop her into his arms, but Allie sidestepped toward the desk. “Here,”

she insisted.

At first, she thought he might disagree. She wasn’t certain what had possessed her to demand it. Desire was making her bold.

Ben stunned her by stepping toward the desk, swiping his arm across its surface to topple its contents onto the floor, and lifting her back onto it.

Then he kissed her. A deep, searing kiss. She opened to him, teased her tongue against his, got lost in how a kiss could be wild and tender and dizzying all at once.

Then he nudged her knees apart and moved between her spread legs. He bent his forehead to hers.

“Remind me to go slow if you need me to,”

he whispered and then he took her mouth again. He gently eased her down until she was clutching at his shoulders, until she lay with her back against the desktop.

He slid the ribbon of her drawers free and tugged the fabric from her hips and down her legs.

She was naked before him, more vulnerable than she’d ever been with anyone. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, but it wasn’t from embarrassment or shame. Nor from the fire that filled the room with a flickering warmth. She was flushed with need, her every sense was heightened and every inch of her yearned for his touch.

“You’re stunning,”

he murmured, tracing his fingers down her chest, then dipping to take her nipple between his lips. “And delicious.”

She gasped at each stroke of his tongue, then she slid her hands into his thick hair, urging him closer. He was over her, so close and yet still not near enough.

“I want to make this perfect for you,”

he whispered.

Allie caught the edge of his jaw and tipped his head up until their eyes met. “Not for me. With me. I only want this because it’s with you.”

Her words stole his breath, made his heart thrash in his chest. And he knew in that moment that he’d never be content with one night of giving her the passion she craved. He wanted her to be his. Wanted this to be the start of something that would not end in a week or a month.

And the trust in her eyes, her eager willingness, undid him. He was hers whether she knew it or not, and now he only wanted to show her.

He unfastened his trousers and slid the rest of his clothing off.

Alexandra fixed her gaze on his body, taking him in boldly, pulling her lower lip between her teeth as she stared at his cock.

“Goodness,”

she said. Then she flicked her gaze to his. “May I touch you?”

Ben nodded. He wasn’t sure he could get words out if he tried. He was already breathless, and when she reached for him, he gasped.

She explored with her fingers, stroking his length, then wrapping her hand around him.

“Tell me what’s next,”

she said on a husky whisper.

Ben chuckled. “Let me show you.”

He moved between her legs, slid his hands up her thighs, and then dipped his fingers into her curls. She was wet and hot, and he didn’t want to go slow.

Allie bucked against his touch. “Please,”

she urged as if she didn’t wish to go slow either.

He stroked into her heat, slid a finger inside, and she reached up to grip his shoulder.

“Yes,”

she whispered, “I like that.”

“I hope you’ll like this too,”

he told her and as he knelt down before her. “Because I need to taste you.”

She made a little sound of protest when he slid his finger from her, but then let out a moan that made his cock ache when he replaced it with his tongue. He got lost in loving her with his mouth, addicted to every gasp and moan and the way she reached down to scrape her fingers across his scalp to indicate her pleasure.

She began to quiver and writhe against his mouth, and when she shuddered against him and called out his name, he felt as if he might spend himself before he was ever inside her.

When the rippling waves subsided, he stood before her again.

Alexandra looked up at him hazy-eyed. “Ben,”

she rasped, “I want to touch you again.”

He rocked against her. He’d never wanted anyone, anything, more than he wanted Alexandra.

She nodded as if she could read his thoughts.

“Only you,”

he told her as slid into her delicious heat. She couldn’t know what his words meant. He was too far gone to think through any of it. This moment was for feeling, and every second of it felt extraordinary. Like a dream of what he wasn’t sure he deserved but was somehow lucky enough to find.

He rocked into her slowly, inch by inch, letting her movements and reactions guide him.

“Only with you,”

she whispered, her blue-violet eyes ablaze.

And the words set him on fire.

He built a rhythm that she responded to in kind, bucking against him, tugging at him with her hand on his shoulder, another gripping his upper arm.

“Ben,”

she cried out on a gasp, and then crested around him once more.

He was lost then and growled his release. Then he took her to bed, laid her out on it as he’d imagined he would one day. She reached for him, and he lay tangled in her arms, her legs twined with his. Lost in her, in this moment, basking in this wholeness she made him feel.