Naughty Bits 2 Read Online Free PDF Page B

gesture as if to encompass his responsibilities at the manor “—but now I’m saddled with debts and commitments, and anyone who takes me on takes all that on, as well.”
    I can see what he means, but suddenly, in the midst of that thought, a bright revelation shatters the gloom.
    Oh, God, even though he’s expressing his shortcomings and his wariness of relationships, the fact that he’s actually mentioned a relationship—marriage even—must mean that he feels more for me, and sees me as more than a temporary employee and a casual spanking playmate.
    Mustn’t it?
    â€œLook, please, let me…let me touch you…or maybe we can even fuck? I won’t expect more than just that. All it’ll be is a bit of pleasure with no commitments. Um…just friendship with a little bit of extra, really, nothing more.”
    It’s out before I’ve really thought about it. But thinking about it, I know I do want more, despite what I say.
    Even though it’s possibly the stupidest thing I’ve done in my life, even crazier than agreeing to be spanked by my temporary boss, I’ve only gone and fallen head over heels in love with the marquess, haven’t I?
    And he’s right, there’s no future in it, is there? None at all…Soon I’ll be leaving for the Caribbean, to take up my chance-of-a-lifetime job.
    He looks at me, and his dark eyes are still sad, but strangely yearning. It’s as if he’s just read my thoughts, and feels the same bittersweet emotions that I do.
    â€œYou’re a wonderful girl, Rose.” He touches my face, the same fingers that punished me now a tender, caressing curve. “You’re far too wonderful for me. If I take more from you, I’ll just want more than that. And more…and more…and that’s not fair of me.”
    I could weep and scream. He does bloody well care!
    Acting on impulse, I turn my face into his gentle hand and kiss his palm. He groans and mutters, “No!”
    But I know I’ve got him. His whole body shakes finely, and beneath me, his cock jerks and seems to harden even more, if that were possible.
    â€œI shouldn’t…I shouldn’t…”
    â€œIt’s all right. It’ll be ‘no strings,’” I whisper against his palm, then inscribe a little pattern, a promise, with my tongue.
    â€œOh, hell,” he almost snarls, and then he’s kissing me, tilting me back on his lap and going deep with tongue and lips…and heart?
    I embrace him, writhing on his knee again, the discomfort of my spanked bottom forgotten. Wrapping my arms around him, I try to silently say all the things that are too difficult and irrational to say.
    Like…
    To be with him just a little while, I’ll pay any price, do things his way and never ask for more.
    Like…
    I’m prepared to take my chances on his lack of prospects and commitments.
    Like…
    Who needs a fucking job in the Caribbean, after all?
    This last one shocks me, but just as I think it, the marquess deepens the kiss even further. His arms slide around me, holding me tight, and yet with delicacy, as if I’m precious to him.
    And then, somehow, we’re on the rug, and he’s lying over me, great and dark, like a shadow that’s so paradoxical it’s also light. The light of revelation…
    His hands rove over my body, exploring with reverence this time, and great emotion. And the touch is a thousand times more sexy than when we played. With a gasp, he straightens up momentarily and rips open his shirt, sending buttons flying in his impatience. Then he embraces me again, skin to skin.
    His body is hot, feverish and moist, with a fine sheen of sweat that seems to conduct electricity between us. I moan, loving the communion, almost feeling that this might even be as good as sex in some mysterious way. But then my cunt flutters, reminding me I want more.
    Still kissing me, the