The Duke’s Dove

dueling and lips bruising. His other hand traced her spine and skipped down to shape the curve of her rear. He clenched her bottom hard and jerked her body up several inches, setting her on the terrace balustrade.
Nathan’s hands dug at her skirts, working them up her legs and out of the way so he could slide his hips between her thighs. Mindless of the cold that should have bothered her from such exposure, she arched into him, her body in control, her mind surrendering. He rocked his hips against hers, promising the passion to come with low