She waited until he was bent over the nearest chair. There was a scuffling and a sudden flurry, but he was watching.
Griffin whirled and made it to the door before she did.
Hero halted, panting, inches from his chest.
He cocked his head, smiling not at all nicely. “Going somewhere, my Lady Perfect?”
“Let me out,” she demanded. Any other woman would’ve pleaded.
He took a step toward her, forcing her to step back or let him run into her. “No.”
She flung back her head, regal and palely beautiful. The diamonds in her red hair glittered. “I’ve told you I won’t marry you.”
“So you have,” he agreed pleasantly. “But I’m not looking for marriage at the moment.”
Her lips parted, and he saw the delicate skin on her throat flutter under her heartbeat. He’d bedded her only this morning. She’d been an innocent; she’d still be sore. They were in a public gathering, for Christ’s sake.
None of it mattered.
He was ragingly hard for her.
“Come here,” he whispered.
“Griffin.”
He half closed his eyes at her murmur. “You say my name like a lover, so soft, so sweet. I want to lick the word from your lips, sip the exhaled breath from your mouth. I want to possess you utterly. Right now. Right here.”
She darted then, a hart flushed from cover, and tried to leap around him. He caught her by her waist and flung her up against the closed door.
Then he bent his head and looked her in her brilliant diamond-gray eyes. “What will it be, madam?”
HERO LOOKED INTO those demonic green eyes and knew stark despair mixed with freedom: She couldn’t resist him. Why, she wasn’t sure. Any other man she would’ve walked away from. But not Griffin.
Never Griffin.
She let her own worst impulses fly free. She raised her hands, framed his lean cheeks, and pulled his head down to hers.
Oh, yes, she needed this. She needed him.
His mouth was warm and luscious, and she feasted on it like a starved child. She hadn’t even known that she’d missed the taste of his lips. The taste of liberty.
He groaned and fumbled with her skirts, pulling, yanking them up. She felt a draft of cool air on her bare thighs, and then his big, hot palms were on her bottom. He squeezed and fondled her, all the while kissing her passionately, his tongue in her mouth. His fingers dipped into the crevice of her buttocks and stroked down until they met her wetness from behind.
He tore his mouth from hers, panting. “Put your arms around my shoulders.”
She complied, with no idea what he might have in mind. Then he was lifting her bodily, supporting her whole weight in just his arms. She hung gracelessly for a moment until she instinctively wrapped her legs about his waist.
“Good girl,” he breathed.
His hand was between them, fumbling awkwardly, and she bit her lip against a wholly inappropriate fit of the giggles. They were both completely dressed. He even still wore his white wig. How could he possibly think—
And then she felt the naked heat of his cock.
She gasped, staring into his eyes, only inches from her own.
“Shhh,” he hissed quietly. “You must make no noise.”
He made a movement and that broad head slid through her slick folds.
She bit her lip.
He braced one hand on the door and lowered his head to whisper against her lips. “Now.”
And his cock breached her.
There was a tiny pinch, a stretching. She watched him swallow, his strong throat working. His mouth pulled in a slight grimace; there were white lines at the corners of his lips. He pushed again. She opened her mouth in a silent gasp as he invaded her another couple of inches.
The door thumped against her back.
Hero squeaked in alarm. Griffin slipped his palm over her mouth and leaned hard into the door. She looked at him, her eyes wide. He shook his head.
“I say, the door won’t open,” came a slurred male voice from outside.
A feminine giggle was the reply.
The door thumped again, which had the effect of driving Hero’s hips hard against Griffin. His cock slid exquisitely against her, seating him fully, his pelvis brushing hers.
“Shall I try again?” the male voice asked.
Griffin leaned his full weight on her and the door, his legs braced, his head beside hers, his forehead against the wood of the door. She was spread wide, helplessly open and impaled upon his strong flesh, waiting to see if they’d be discovered.
The door gave another shudder, actually opening a crack. Griffin lunged into her hard and slammed the door back shut. Hero closed her eyes, close, so close, to ecstasy.
“Damn me, we’ll find another room, shall we?” the man without said.
Footsteps tromped away.
He didn’t move, holding her up, still impaled, still arched against him. They breathed together, their chests moving as one. Slowly, so very slowly, his hand drifted down from the door. He brushed over the tops of her breasts, lightly, almost casually.
She waited, her hand on his neck, feeling the animal heat of him. He burrowed beneath her skirts and traced leisurely up her thigh, toward her center, toward that point where he was joined with her. She turned her head and took his earlobe between her teeth. He circled, delicately, almost too lightly, his fingers trailing through her folds stretched wide. He reached the apex of her sex and spread his hand, pressing down quite explicitly on her clitoris.
And she jerked, hard and hot, falling from a great height, the wind whistling past her ears, glorious in her descent.
He arched away from her and pulled his cock partway out, then slammed it back into her, rough and fast and relentless. He thrust in and out in short, jerky, controlled movements, never so hard as to rattle the door, never so soft as to let her down from her fall from on high.
She wanted to scream, wanted to shout aloud with joy. This rapid energy was too much, was not enough. She wanted him to continue forever. She bit, gently, precisely, on his earlobe and his mechanical rhythm stuttered. He jerked, arched, jerked again and then thrust one last time, holding himself deep within her.
She felt heat flood her insides.
His breath was loud and harsh in her ear, and she amused herself by licking his earlobe. Then, moving slowly, he unwrapped her legs from his waist and set them on the floor.
She leaned against the door, catching her breath, watching with half-closed eyes as he took out a handkerchief and cleaned himself. How had she become so wanton in the span of less than a day?
He glanced up and saw her watching him. Deliberately, he held out the handkerchief. “My lady?”