Lady Allerton's Wager by Nicola Cornick Page B

appeared to have gone now, replaced by a devilish enjoyment that Beth suddenly found even more frightening. She tried to lean away from him, but the desk behind her blocked her path completely, and when she attempted to slide sideways Marcus simply leant both arms on the desk on either side of her, effectively pinning her down. As Beth tried to arch away from him she saw his gaze drop to the neckline of her dress and linger there on the soft swell of her breasts.
    ‘My lord!’ Beth’s voice came out as a desperate squeak. ‘This is not fair!’
    Marcus leant closer. She could feel his breath soft on her heated skin. He raised a hand and traced one lazy finger down her cheek, continuing down the line of her neck to her collarbone. His eyes were dark with desire.
    ‘Would you have honoured the bet if you had lost, sweetheart? Would you?’
    ‘No!’ Beth gasped. She felt his fingers pause at the hollow in her throat, felt him stroke the pulse there.
    ‘Your skin is all flushed.’ Marcus’s voice had sunk to a husky whisper now. ‘You are as hot as you were the other night. I do not believe you, Lady Allerton. I think you are as shameless as you pretended to be at the Cyprians’ Ball…’
    Beth’s gasp of fury was lost as his mouth camedown on hers. This time his kiss was hard and hungry, as demanding as the one at the ball had been gentle. He forced her lips apart and she felt his tongue invade her mouth and her senses spun under the onslaught. She brought her hands round to grip Marcus’s arms, intending to push him away, but he leant his weight against her so that the table caught her behind the thighs and she was borne helplessly back, to lie amongst the scattered papers and rolling inkpot. She felt her dress gape and her hair come loose from its pins and fan out across the wooden surface, and she could neither struggle nor scream, for Marcus’s weight was on top of her, holding her still, and his mouth still plundered the softness of hers.
    It was only when his lips left hers, to follow the line his fingers had traced earlier and brush against the sensitive softness of her throat, that Beth realised she had no will to struggle anyway. The touch of his hands and lips was exquisite pleasure and she wanted more. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth back up to hers so that she could once again touch and taste him.
    She had no idea how long they lay locked together before Marcus moved with single-minded concentration to strip the dress from her shoulders. Beth felt the little puffy sleeves slide down her arms to the elbow and a moment later Marcus had slid one warm hand inside the gap in her bodice and cupped her breast. Her involuntary moan was lost against his lips as he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. His fingers found her hardening nipple and he pulled the bodice of her dress down before his mouth left hers to fasten over the pink tip he had exposed. Beth squirmed in delight and desperation as he bit downon her sensitised skin. There was an exquisite pain in the pit of her stomach and she was lost in the sensations of pleasure that he was creating. The remaining papers went flying from the desk as she writhed with excitement.
    There was a sudden noise out in the hall and Marcus eased away from her with a purely involuntary movement. It was enough to bring Beth down to earth. Suddenly she was horribly aware of something digging into her back, of the papers scattered beneath her hands, the dress that had almost slipped to her waist. She wriggled again but this time in a desperate attempt to stand up, and Marcus stepped back and put out a hand to help her to her feet. Beth flinched away.
    ‘Don’t touch me!’ All her horror at what she had done was in her voice. She could not believe it—could not believe her own behaviour and could not forgive him his. She saw Marcus recoil and knew that finally, she had the upper hand. She gestured towards the door. ‘Lord Trevithick. Please