Rufus unfastened her gown before gently tugging down the loosened material to reveal her breasts covered only by the thinness of her chemise. “You are so beautiful, Anna,” he groaned as he revealed her rose-coloured nipples. “Do they ache, Anna?” He ran his fingertips across the tips. “Are they hot and aching for me to kiss them?” he encouraged raspily even as he lowered his head and took a rosy nipple into the heat of his mouth.
Anna was so awash with sensation, in the unmistakeable knowledge of Rufus’s passion, and the desire he voiced for her so fiercely, she was unable to do anything more than arch her back as she groaned her surrender and gave herself up completely to the pleasure of being in his arms.
“You are so lo
vely,” he murmured as the heat of his mouth moved to pay homage to her other breast. “So very lovely,” he groaned before suckling the roused nipple deep into his mouth, lathing with his tongue, biting gently with sharp and stimulating teeth.
Rufus had never felt so aroused as he did making love to Anna. So deeply inflamed that he wanted to give her pleasure, to pleasure her, until she belonged to him completely. Anna. His Anna, whether she knew it yet or not.
He was moved by her beauty, entertained by her feistiness, enthralled with her delicious body. Her breasts were perfect, the taste of her nipples as addictive as her mouth, the skin of her thighs so silky soft as he caressed their length beneath her gown, between her thighs so wet and inviting as he touched her through the slit in her drawers.
“Rufus?” she gasped as he eased a finger inside the moist heat of her.
“Let me, love,” he encouraged softly as he eased a second finger inside her, her inner muscles grasping his fingers, at the same time as he pressed his thumb rhythmically against her pulsing core.
Rufus suckled one of her nipples deeply into his mouth as he continued to stroke his fingers inside her, Anna arching against him as his thumb pressed harder against her.
His.
This woman was his.
“Rufus!” Anna cried out at the unimagined pleasure coursing wildly through every inch of her body, her hands clinging on to the muscled hardness of Rufus’s shoulders as she arched up into his invading fingers. She needed— Oh goodness, she needed—
“Let go for me, Anna!” Rufus encouraged gruffly.
“I do not know how!” She shook her head from side to side as the pleasure seemed almost too much to bear.
“Let go, love,” he groaned harshly. “Just let go!”
Anna gave another gasp as his words triggered something deep inside her and her pleasure washed over her in wave after wave of ecstasy such as Anna had never thought of or imagined in her wildest daydreams.
His, Rufus groaned in satisfaction, unrelenting as he rode Anna’s climax to the very end of her pleasure. Until she lay limp and gasping in his arms, her eyes fever bright as she looked up at him in wonder.
“Tell me you want me too, Anna,” Rufus urged hotly; his arousal a painful ache between his thighs. “Tell me I can have all of you.”
“Rufus?” She looked up at him dazedly, uncomprehending.
“There is no one here to stop us,” he explained heatedly. “Watkins will not return until he is called for, and your brother is occupied in the village.”
Anna was breathing hard as she slowly came back to her senses and realised the intimacies she had allowed to happen. Exactly what her wanton hungers, her desire for excitement and adventure, had led her into doing.
And how much Rufus would despise her once he also came back to his senses.
Her face paled even as she pulled herself out of his arms before moving quickly down to the bottom of the chaise and getting back onto her feet, her legs trembling as she turned away from him to pull her chemise and gown up over her swollen breasts.
What had she done? How could she have allowed this to happen?
To have allowed Rufus to touch her so intimately, and the building of that unbearable pleasure, so quickly followed by the release she could still feel between her thighs.
She had not realised when she gave herself up to his desire for her. Had not known where, or how far, her own passions would take her.
It was too much.
Rufus was too much.
He was also, no matter how much he might try to dismiss it, the Duke of Northamptonshire. And Anna would never be any more to him than another conquest. A woman to amuse him while he was in Banbury, so far away from the sophisticated amusements and equally sophisticated women he usually enjoyed in London.
She was merely an amusement to him.