the duke’s embrace, against her will. She couldn’t help it. She was so tired—tired of trying to save Jack from himself.
Greystone’s arms tightened around her. She could not deny they were strong, and inside the circle of them, she felt secure.
“Even if we had not made a bargain,” the duke murmured, “I would move heaven and earth to make love to you.”
His lips touched her neck. The most remarkable tingle burst like a fireball at the point where he kissed her. It rushed down her spine. Then he ran his tongue along her neck.
Inside, she was molten, as hot as dragon fire.
“Your brother should have taken much better care of you.” Kisses trailed down the nape of her neck. Lucy whimpered.
She should go to Jack ... but the duke was right ... Jack would be furious at her for hauling him from a house of ill repute. She gazed down at the duke’s golden hair. “You do believe I know nothing about your nephew, don’t you? I truly don’t.”
His tongue ran over the swell of her breasts. “Yes, I believe you.” He looked up. “I would say I was wrong about your father, except he admitted it to me.”
“But why would my father take an innocent boy—”
He had turned her as she protested, and he silenced her with one hot, openmouthed, hungry kiss.
The duke must believe she had nothing to do with the kidnapping of his nephew—how could he kiss her like this if he did? Lucy wanted to know exactly what had happened but she was on fire, and she couldn’t stop kissing him.
She must know about his nephew’s kidnapping. Even as he assured her he did believe her, Sinjin could not understand how Lady Lucy did not know what her family had done.
True, she had appeared to be genuinely shocked, but she’d managed to keep London Society from learning she was a dragon. She knew how to keep a secret.
She wouldn’t tell him the truth. He had to get inside her mind and see for himself. To do that, he had to coax her to trust him.
Her skin sizzled with warmth beneath his hands. What he intended to do was give Lady Lucy Drake an introduction to exotic sex in a way she wouldn’t forget.
He could tie her up and have his wicked way with her.
Or he could let her tie him up.
The duke stretched his long, nude body on one of the benches, and he grinned. Lucy was still completely dressed, and she had crossed her arms over her chest. He had simply left her, walked to the bench, and lay down.
His feet rested by the legs, where ropes dangled. He held more rope in his hands. With his arms above his head, he looked both vulnerable and more muscular. In this position, his chest and back looked even broader. Unlike her body, which was soft, her curves defined by areas where she was too plump, his skin clung to the shape of his remarkable muscles. Then he shifted, and she saw his erection where it was trapped between the bench and his abdomen—goodness, he was very aroused, his penis long and straight.
She approached him cautiously. With his cheek resting on the smooth leather of the bench, he grinned. “I want you to lie like this, my dear. I would like to massage you.”
“I cannot lie anywhere like that. I am wearing my stays.”
His relaxed laugh rolled over her. He sat up, swinging his long legs over the bench, and crooked his finger. She couldn’t help but stare at his wobbling penis. The head of it glistened in a way that made her blush. Trails of a silvery fluid dribbled from a tiny opening in the acorn-shaped head.
Lifting her hem, she walked to him. Holding her hips, he made her turn, then he swiftly undid the fastenings of her dress. He moved with more expert speed than her maid, and had her undressed to her stays and shift in no time at all.
He drew down her garters and her filmy stockings. Then he pushed up the lace-trimmed hem of her shift and kissed her inner thighs.
“Goodness! That tickles,” she gasped. She half-turned and saw his smile. Locks of his golden hair shielded his face, but
Greystone’s arms tightened around her. She could not deny they were strong, and inside the circle of them, she felt secure.
“Even if we had not made a bargain,” the duke murmured, “I would move heaven and earth to make love to you.”
His lips touched her neck. The most remarkable tingle burst like a fireball at the point where he kissed her. It rushed down her spine. Then he ran his tongue along her neck.
Inside, she was molten, as hot as dragon fire.
“Your brother should have taken much better care of you.” Kisses trailed down the nape of her neck. Lucy whimpered.
She should go to Jack ... but the duke was right ... Jack would be furious at her for hauling him from a house of ill repute. She gazed down at the duke’s golden hair. “You do believe I know nothing about your nephew, don’t you? I truly don’t.”
His tongue ran over the swell of her breasts. “Yes, I believe you.” He looked up. “I would say I was wrong about your father, except he admitted it to me.”
“But why would my father take an innocent boy—”
He had turned her as she protested, and he silenced her with one hot, openmouthed, hungry kiss.
The duke must believe she had nothing to do with the kidnapping of his nephew—how could he kiss her like this if he did? Lucy wanted to know exactly what had happened but she was on fire, and she couldn’t stop kissing him.
She must know about his nephew’s kidnapping. Even as he assured her he did believe her, Sinjin could not understand how Lady Lucy did not know what her family had done.
True, she had appeared to be genuinely shocked, but she’d managed to keep London Society from learning she was a dragon. She knew how to keep a secret.
She wouldn’t tell him the truth. He had to get inside her mind and see for himself. To do that, he had to coax her to trust him.
Her skin sizzled with warmth beneath his hands. What he intended to do was give Lady Lucy Drake an introduction to exotic sex in a way she wouldn’t forget.
He could tie her up and have his wicked way with her.
Or he could let her tie him up.
The duke stretched his long, nude body on one of the benches, and he grinned. Lucy was still completely dressed, and she had crossed her arms over her chest. He had simply left her, walked to the bench, and lay down.
His feet rested by the legs, where ropes dangled. He held more rope in his hands. With his arms above his head, he looked both vulnerable and more muscular. In this position, his chest and back looked even broader. Unlike her body, which was soft, her curves defined by areas where she was too plump, his skin clung to the shape of his remarkable muscles. Then he shifted, and she saw his erection where it was trapped between the bench and his abdomen—goodness, he was very aroused, his penis long and straight.
She approached him cautiously. With his cheek resting on the smooth leather of the bench, he grinned. “I want you to lie like this, my dear. I would like to massage you.”
“I cannot lie anywhere like that. I am wearing my stays.”
His relaxed laugh rolled over her. He sat up, swinging his long legs over the bench, and crooked his finger. She couldn’t help but stare at his wobbling penis. The head of it glistened in a way that made her blush. Trails of a silvery fluid dribbled from a tiny opening in the acorn-shaped head.
Lifting her hem, she walked to him. Holding her hips, he made her turn, then he swiftly undid the fastenings of her dress. He moved with more expert speed than her maid, and had her undressed to her stays and shift in no time at all.
He drew down her garters and her filmy stockings. Then he pushed up the lace-trimmed hem of her shift and kissed her inner thighs.
“Goodness! That tickles,” she gasped. She half-turned and saw his smile. Locks of his golden hair shielded his face, but
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