Page 23 of The Marquess Match (Love’s a Game #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

A sh had waited for this moment. Dreamed of it. Driven himself mad with the memory of her—her taste, her body beneath his, the way she had come apart in his arms.

And now, she was here again.

The door to room ten closed behind them with a quiet click. It might as well have been a thunderclap. Because the second they were alone, the second there was nothing between them but air and everything unsaid, Ash moved.

He caught her around the waist, pulling her against him, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was all heat and hunger and, damn it, desperation.

Her fingers curled into his coat, but then—she pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him back.

He blinked, breathing hard, frowning.

“If we are to continue this, we must establish some rules first,” she said, her voice low, measured. But her pupils were wide, her breath unsteady. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He could see it.

“Rules?” he echoed, shaking his head. “I don’t understand.”

“This—” She gestured between them, at the room, at the wicked anticipation thrumming in the air. “It can be nothing more than a distraction. A moment of pleasure. That is all.”

He stepped forward, crowding her against the door, dragging his lips along her jaw, down her throat. She shivered.

“I thought that’s exactly what it is,” he murmured against her skin.

A breathless sigh escaped her lips, but she caught herself, tilting her chin up. “I’m serious, Ash,” she said, though her voice had lost its edge. “You must promise me. No feelings. No entanglements.”

“No feelings?” he repeated, catching her hand and guiding it downward, pressing her palm to the hard length of him beneath his breeches. “This is how I feel. Do you object?”

She made a strangled sound as he kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear.

But then… She forced herself to pull away.

Her eyes burned into his, her next words like a shot to the chest.

“No falling in love.”

Ash stilled.

For the first time since stepping into this room, something in him stopped short, like a carriage horse rearing back at an unseen drop-off.

“Love?” He said the word as if it were foreign to him.

Her gaze flickered away. “I cannot continue this affair unless you agree.” She swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling. “You must swear it.”

Ash exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, his body still tight with need. “No love,” he said finally, the words feeling strange on his tongue. “Fine. I agree.”

Relief crossed her face. “Good.”

But as he took her in his arms again, as he stripped her bare, as he tied her wrists above her head and made her gasp his name, something dark and dangerous twisted in his chest.

Because, damn it all, love had never even crossed his mind.

Not until she told him it was impossible.

And now?

Now, it was all he could think about.

Oh, hell. He was so screwed.