How To Seduce A Duke

“Mary,” he whispered, halfheartedly nudging her away. “I am bringing you home.”

“No, not yet, please.” Mary tried to sit up straight, but her head began to whirl. She reached out for Rogan, who sat straight and rigid on the carriage seat. Using his lapels as leverage, she slid her knee over his legs, straddling him. “I want you to kiss me again.”

His hands came around her waist. He seemed more than a little stunned at her boldness. He tried to lift her from him. “Mary, we can’t do this.”

Throwing her arms around his neck, Mary clung to him. “Yes we can. No one will know. Besides, it will not be the first time.”

It was true. In her dreams, they’d been together dozens of times, like this. Just like this.

She skimmed her fingers through his thick hair and kissed him deeply. He groaned against her mouth, low and deep, making her tingle all over.

His hips seemed to move of their own accord, and she felt his erection press against the crushed skirts between her legs.

Her own body heated from within, and instinctively, she arched her back and pushed down against him.

He drew back his head, just enough to see her eyes, without breaking her kiss. Even in the dimness the question in his gaze was clear.

“Rogan,” she whispered rather hoarsely as her fingers worked to unwind and remove his neckcloth.

He trailed his mouth from hers, running the tip of his tongue along the curve of her upper lip before plunging it inside her mouth.

Mary moaned and allowed him to deepen his kiss as she fumbled to open his waistcoat and wrenched his shirttails from his breeches.

She slid her hands over the ripples of his stomach muscles, then higher until she touched the hard swells of his chest. Yes, just as she’d imagined.

He lifted his mouth from hers and whispered her name, so queerly, as if her own name were a question.

And so she answered him. “Yes, Rogan. Yes.”

In a sudden move, he roughly scooped her up, turned, and settled her back against the length of the leather seat cushion.

Then he knelt beside the seat, gazing at her through those dark, smoldering eyes.

Without a word, he skimmed her face with his fingertips, down and along the line of her jaw, then rode swiftly down the center of her throat to the base of her gown’s lacy neckline.

His thumb slid to the left, over the upper mound of her breast. She arched against his hand, shivering with pleasure at the searing heat of his touch.

Now this was the rake she had dreamed about.

His hands caught her gown and her silk chemise at her shoulders, then dragged them down her arms, baring her breasts to him.

She was panting now, but he did nothing more; instead, he only watched her. She felt so wanton. So wicked. But still she wanted to feel more.

“I want you to touch me,” she murmured. “I want…to touch you.”

His gaze trailed slowly down her body, then returned to her face.

“Are you sure of this?” He bent and took her nipple inside his mouth for just an instant, making her gasp.

She tried to speak but managed only to nod.

When he lifted his mouth from her, she could feel the heat of his breath upon her skin. “This is what you want?”

“And more.” Why shouldn’t she? This was her dream, her fantasy.

Grasping his coat, she yanked the side closest to her from his shoulder.

Rogan came to his feet. He bent to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling as he shrugged his coat to the floor and tore off his waistcoat as well.

Her heart pounded as she watched his silhouette move purposefully to the end of the seat. He turned to face her, then slipped his hands beneath her knees and roughly pushed them apart.

He kissed the top of her knee, then knelt between her spread legs and eased his body over her, bracing himself on his hands on either side of her head.

The look in his eyes was primitive and all male, and it sent color rushing up past her bare breasts and into her cheeks.

Just a dream. Just a dream.

Please, don’t let me wake up this time.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.

He glanced up at her as she spoke, then he turned his eyes to gaze at her breasts. He moved his head, and she knew what he was about to do, or at least, what she hoped he would. At once, her nipples became hard and erect.

He looked back into her eyes and smiled wickedly at her. Then he lowered his mouth and dragged his wet tongue over her nipple, swirling it in hot, agonizingly slow circles, before taking it hard into his mouth.

He leaned against the backrest and cupped her other breast, squeezing it gently as he sucked harder.

Her head swirled with the sensation, and she writhed against his hard body as he sucked, nipped, and touched her, arousing her as she had never been before.

His erection grew harder and began to throb against her.

Raising one knee, she flung one leg over his hip and pressed her body against his groin.

He raised his dark head from the paleness of her breast and pinned her with his gaze. “Are you sure?” He lifted himself up from her, and as he knelt between her thighs, he shoved the layers of skirts to her hips.

“Yes, yes.”

It was about to happen. He was about to claim her body.

But she always woke up the instant before he possessed her, and she knew she would again at any moment if she didn’t hurry this dream along.

“Rogan, don’t wait,” she begged. “Please.”

Over the crumpled mounds of skirts at her hips, she could see that he fumbled at his front fall.

“Hurry.”

He came up on his knees and moved close to her.

He grinned most wickedly as he positioned his thumb against her most private of parts and began to rub a slow circle that made her whimper and thrash about.

Please do not wake. Please.

So close.

Then she felt a hardness touching her, just there. Yes. Intimately sliding between her moist folds, separating them. Yes.

Her head was spinning, and her body throbbed.

She wanted nothing more than to push down upon him. To feel him inside of her before-

“Now, Rogan, please.”

Rogan lowered his body over hers and positioned his hands on either side of her head once more.

God, he wanted her.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, something told him to stop. Stop now.

But hadn’t she told him herself she was not the innocent? That she had done this before?

She was young, but hardly in the first blush of her youth.

And so he looked down into her wide, needful eyes, then closed his lids and thrust into her heat.

There was a scream.

His eyelids snapped open only to see her staring at him in pain and horror.

Suddenly the carriage came to an abrupt halt, bouncing slightly on its springs, sending Mary’s naked breasts quivering beneath him.

“Berkeley Square, Your Grace.”

“Bloody hell. She’s a virgin-was a virgin.”

Rogan’s hand shook as he shoved it through his hair. He paced before the large mullioned windows in his