Read Online Mistress by Marriage by Maggie Robinson - Free Book Online Page B

mirror on the ceiling gave her the answer.
    She had finally slept like the dead, never hearing Edward’s footsteps, never seeing him undress, never smelling his lime-scented skin. But she felt him now, and soon she would taste him—as he was tasting her. A gossamer kiss on her bare shoulder. A nip at the base of her throat. His warm tongue edging into her ear, which always drove her mad.
    “Don’t pretend you are still asleep. You cannot be.”
    But she would pretend. Just to see how far he’d go.
    She didn’t have long to wait to find out. He pulled her nightgown up, fitting himself behind her, hard and hot. One hand cupped a breast, thumbing her nipple to a tight peak. That task accomplished, he traced a line from her belly to her hip, coming to rest, palm flat. She felt each warm finger splayed in ownership.
    Surely he wasn’t going to stop there . She wiggled up against him to urge him on.
    She felt his lips curve on her back. She’d seen his smug smile before; he had every right to it. “I knew you were awake. Ask me nicely, and I’ll wish you a very good morning.”
    “Nicely,” she whispered, and he complied. A long finger teased her arse, then swept forward to her slit, dipped into its moisture, then rubbed against the top of her sex. He circled diligently until the room spun, Caroline clenching her nightgown to keep from touching herself. She wanted his skin covering hers, his weight overpowering her. She wanted to see him in the mirror splitting her apart. Understanding her unspoken need, he pushed her back and tore the nightgown over her head.
    His mouth blanketed her cry as he penetrated her, his tongue mimicking each thrust. They were joined from head to toe, layered so close the only parts of her the mirror reflected were her wide eyes, the red of her hair on the pillow and her hands scoring his back. Her legs locked beneath him, then he twisted, lifting her from the bed as she rose to become even closer. He had never been so deep; she had never been so deep in trouble. For what was she to do when he left her again?
    He mistook her sob for pleasure, then made it true, driving into her with reckless abandon, freeing them both. Stroke upon stroke, thrust upon thrust they tumbled together, heedless of anything but the electric unity of his skin to hers. She curled into him, transported, her mouth soft with love. But she swallowed the words—he would hear only desperation. Manipulation. They had never claimed to love each other, and he wouldn’t trust her.
    Her orgasm took her hopeless speech away anyway. She felt nothing but the pure sin of his cock spilling inside her, his hand wedged between them pressing and circling her clitoris, his teeth at her throat. She bit him back. Let the House of Lords weigh that evidence.
    When she spoke, it was with careful disinterest. “I expect you’ve brought the timetable with you.”
    Edward flopped onto his back and looked chagrinned. “I’m afraid I didn’t have time to draw one up. I’ll work it out later and send it ’round.”
    She kept her tone severe, schoolmistressy. “I can’t have any more unscheduled incidents like this. I want sufficient notice in the future.”
    “You didn’t throw me out of bed.” He looked far too proud of himself. His facial expression implied a woman would have to be an idiot to throw Edward Christie out of bed.
    Well, she was an idiot. “I was asleep! And then it was too late. Get up, Edward. I have a busy day ahead and want some privacy.”
    He hesitated only a moment. “All right, Caro. I got what I came for. More than I expected, actually. It was very pleasant.”
    She knew he was baiting her. She thought the top of her head was exploding when she orgasmed. Surely he felt the same. “Yes. I suppose it was adequate. Have a nice day.” She slipped into her dressing room to use the commode, hoping he’d have the good taste to leave.
    When she came out, he was gone. Baron Christie was indeed the epitome of good