“Ah, yes, you do possess a delicious aroma now that I think of it.” He nuzzled the side of her hip. “I wonder if you taste as good as you smell?” The dark head disappeared beneath the sheet. A moment later the heat of his mouth traveled down one thigh, nibbling at the hollow of her knee as he moved between her legs.
Dear Lord.
Haddon made her forget everything but him, which was why she’d awoken this morning with a large, naked male snoring next to her. He was a rake, or at least he had been before he was widowed. She suspected that behind the veneer of doting father to his rambunctious girls, Haddon still was.
His teeth nibbled the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and Marissa’s body jumped in response.
A wicked laugh came from beneath the sheet.
On principle, she avoided rakes, even reformed ones. Having wed two of them, she knew how much trouble they could be. Haddon might well be worth the difficulty though Marissa had no intention of finding out. A brief dalliance during a tedious house party to alleviate their mutual boredom was acceptable, but Marissa knew she couldn’t see him again. Even if he hadn’t been significantly younger, Haddon possessed the ability to make Marissa feel things she’d rather not. There was a reason she kept her relationships limited to gentlemen who would not stir a lick of emotion in her.
Not so with Haddon.
As he nipped his way up the inside of her thigh, Marissa arched back, feeling the response of her body, when she should have been pushing him out the door. Haddon was demanding in bed, taking control of Marissa and her pleasure with breathtaking intensity. Her past lovers were not so robust in their attentions, only mildly satisfying her before taking their leave.
Haddon insisted on Marissa’s response. Devouring her until she was limp and draped over his chest. He’d done so at least three times last night. She could grow used to such treatment.
And Haddon.
Her mind rebelled instantly at the thought.
As soon as he’d taken her in his arms to dance last night, Marissa’s entire being had seemed to fold around Haddon, the sense of belonging to him and with him so terrifying, she had almost refused when he insisted on sneaking into her room.
I haven’t felt such a thing since Reggie.
Reggie, the father of her youngest son, had been the only one of her three husbands Marissa had actually loved. His loss had been devastating, leaving her adrift and grieving for years. Recovering from his disappearance and restoring her independence had taken great effort.
I can’t go through such a thing again.
Her fingers twisted in the sheets of the bed as Haddon’s ministrations sent small pricks of bliss rippling across her body. The pressure built slowly from the teasing pressure of his tongue until Marissa found herself rocking her hips into his waiting mouth.
Dear Lord, but he was skilled.
Haddon reached up with one large hand and palmed her breast, the callouses on his fingers adding to the sensation. Seeking out her nipple, he rolled the peak between his thumb and forefinger as his mouth moved against her. Haddon carefully drew out her response until a tortured moan escaped her lips.
An insistent rap sounded at the door. The doorknob twisted.
No. No.
Haddon flung one of her legs over his shoulder, spreading her wider, unconcerned that someone clearly sought entrance to her room.
A fist banged against the wood.
“I don’t need my fire lit,” she said in a strained voice, cursing the efficiency of the servants at Brushbriar and their determination to perform their duties.
Haddon’s chuckle was a low hum against her skin.
“Mother.” An annoyed baritone sounded from the other side of the door. “I need to speak to you. Now. Open the door.”
Marissa sat up in surprise, her body crying out in frustration. Swatting at Haddon’s shoulders, she wiggled to get away from him. “Stop,” she hissed in a whisper. “Brendan is at the door.” What was her son doing demanding entry at this hour in the morning?
Haddon pulled away the sheet until his face was exposed, deliberately flicking his tongue against Marissa while she watched, smiling at her the entire time.
“Stop,” she begged. Haddon was incredibly wicked. “You’ve got to hide.”
“Marissa,” he replied calmly, tossing aside the sheet and setting his chin atop her stomach. “I am not going to hide.”
“But you must,” she said, pulling a pillow over her exposed breasts. “Brendan cannot find you here.” She glanced at the window. Her room overlooked Brushbriar’s gardens. “Perhaps—”
“Nor am I going to jump out the window to crawl down a trellis. You’re not a twittering virgin I’ve seduced.” Haddon didn’t seem the least distressed her grown son was demanding entry and he was—
Haddon blew a stream of air between her legs.
“Stop this instant.” She kicked until he finally rolled out of bed with a grunt, silver glinting from his eyes.
“Maybe it’s best if Brendan knows I’m here.” Haddon’s eyes flashed with determination, turning them the color of old pewter. “Last night—”
“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Marissa stopped him before he could say more.
“I don’t think I am. I’ve never felt more sane. Don’t be stubborn.”
“Mother, please open the door.” A pause. “Jesus, is Haddon in there with you?”
Haddon shot her a triumphant look.
This was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most embarrassing and shameful moment of her life. Her son was about to open the door and see Marissa with her lover.
No. Not her lover. Such a moniker proclaimed a relationship. An understanding. This was a dalliance. She wrinkled her nose. The entire room smelled of sex. There would be no doubt as to what had taken place last night.
Repeatedly. Just the thought sent a flood of arousal through her.
And Brendan would know. She wouldn’t be able to make an outlandish excuse about Haddon merely stopping by to take her for an early morning walk or something else equally
