(COMPLETED)
Before the Duke of Wardington, before marriage, and before the games of marrying off his three sons and their friends, there was simply Lord Martin...
There's only one sort for a rogue and that's more rogues.
So... when Martin and his f...
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Martin stared at the small foot she'd presented him with and felt as though he'd just been given the prize of the century. Through the white fabric, he could make out the curved point of each of her toes. His eyes slid to her ankle and the want to see more grew. He wanted to know if the stockings were embroidered at the top and what color her garters around her thighs would be. With her being so innocent, he was sure they were white, so he was sure he had no business wondering at these things. But he simply couldn't help it.
He touched her foot and felt her stiffen. After a moment, she relaxed and Martin slid his hand up to her ankle. She gasped and he slipped her shoe on.
"That's the wrong shoe." Her voice, which was already pretty low for a woman, had dropped an octave. Martin's body stirred.
He gazed up at her, finding her brown eyes hooded and full of heat. She was worrying that luscious pink bottom lip again and a gloved finger rested at it's corner. Martin moved closer to her skirts, brushing against the silk fabric, finding it hard to breath down where he knelt. He closed his eyes to concentrate. "Pardon me. Let me try again." He looked down and grabbed her ankle once more and slipped the shoe off and found that taking it off her foot was much more thrilling than he'd been prepared for. He was on fire.
When he slipped on the right shoe, his fingers slid up the front of her foot and Ellen made a strangled sound. And he cracked.
He stood, grabbed the back of her head, and kissed her.
She was sweet. So sweet. His lips mated with hers, and he sucked at that worried lip as though it would give him life. With all the sparks going off inside him, he was surprised his clothes hadn't caught fire or burst into flames. That's just how hot he was for her.
Ellen moaned in his mouth and the sound traveled south. One of his hands held her head anchored as he dutifully expressed to Ellen just how much he wanted her, using the kiss to convey his desires to lick, bite, and lap at her tenderly.
And she let her virginal lips communicate her own hunger for him. He wanted to fulfill that hunger like nothing else. He was starved for her.
"Ellen?" her governess called from the terrace beside their own. Martin lifted his head and saw the lady looking for her. By now she must have heard the story of Ira's fall and who'd brought him down. She'd want to know where Ellen was now, and Martin knew she couldn't find the girl like this.
He looked down at Ellen and found her eyes glowing up at him with a hazed expression. He grinned, but was grateful for the shadows that blocked anyone else from seeing it. "Your governess is looking for you."
"Is she?" Ellen's arm wrapped around his neck, her hold tight. He leaned toward her, unable to resist. She felt perfect against him.
"Ellen?" Fentress called again, this time with more worry.
