“God, I sincerely hope not.” Nick jumped as she gently squeezed the hardening bulge beneath her hand.
“I will not be parted again.” She whispered against his ear, loving the way he tightened beneath her.
"You'd best mean it." His mouth fell forcefully against hers, urging her lips apart until their tongues intertwined. “Wanton. I knew you would wish to take liberties with me.” He pulled her up and held her in his arms.
Playfully, Jemma swung her legs to and fro. “I suppose I am.”
* * *
Joy,that most elusive of emotions, coursed through Nick’s veins. He marveled that only this girl, over all the women he’d known, ever evoked that feeling in him. He thanked whatever entity, God or the Devil, allowed him a second chance.
“We really mustn't.” She swatted at him as he carried her to the bed. “You cannot possibly mean to take advantage of me in my uncle’s home? Again?”
She smelled of lemons and sunshine and a chocolate. He spied the empty tray near the bed. A plate sprinkled with crumbs lay on it next to a small pot of tea. “Of course I do even though you’ve already had your bedtime snack.” He nodded towards the tray, feeling the heat of her body beneath the wrapper.
“I should lock the door,” Jemma said primly. “I do not wish for my maid to walk in unannounced. The sight of the Duke of Dunbar in a state of undress would cause Anna to scream the house down.”
Nick tossed her atop the coverlet, and she bounced against the down mattress, hand pressed against her mouth as she stifled a giggle.
The dressing gown fell open, and her long slender legs parted, giving Nick a view of the delicacy that awaited him. “A prudent thought.” Nick quickly turned the lock then approached the bed, pausing only to shed his shirt. He tossed the fine lawn on the floor to be followed by his boots.
Another giggle, this time seductive, floated up from the feather mattress.
Nick put one knee on the bed and splayed his hand across her stomach, marveling at the warmth of her skin beneath the silk. “Finally, I will have you in a bed.”
“You will have me always, in a bed or not.” Her hands ran up his arms.
“I will make you happy.” He crawled onto the bed, ignoring the creaking springs, and hovered on all fours above her. He bent his head to trail his tongue up her neck to the tender flesh below her ear. “I swear it. In fact, I will begin the task immediately.” He nipped at her earlobe.
Grabbing the waist of her dressing gown, he tore the belt open to expose her nightgown. The fabric of the nightgown was so sheer he saw clearly the dark tips of her breasts and crevice between her thighs. “This garment,” he tried, and failed to untie the ribbon holding her nightgown together with one hand, “is in my opinion,” he tore the fragile cotton in frustration, “completely unnecessary."
“How should I explain that to my maid?” Jem gasped, watching him toss the remains of her nightgown to the floor.
“Shoddy workmanship,” he muttered, ignoring her.
“Yes, the same as the bed and the chair. You are plagued, Your Grace, with mediocre craftsman. That may be the true curse you are under.”
He ran his hand down the swath of flesh gleaming on the bed before him. “Lovely.” He pressed a kiss to the valley between her breasts and made his way to a pale pink nipple. Nick gently sucked the peak into his waiting mouth.
Jem arched beneath him like a cat, a soft moan escaping her parted lips. She wound her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to her breast. “Nick.”
His fingers found the wet, silkiness between her thighs. Rubbing one finger against her, he lightly stroked the tender flesh, delighting in the way her body tightened in response.
“I am a lucky man.” His mouth left her nipple, instead circling the tip with his tongue. “I will become exhausted in my attempts to satisfy you.”
Jem pounded a fist against his shoulder in mock indignation. “Bloody, arrogant,duke,”she panted, her legs splaying wider. She reached for the buttons of his trousers.
Dear God, he would not be able to take much more of her questing fingers. The seams of his breeches were about to burst. He rolled to the side and off the bed abruptly, leaving the bed shaking.
Jem bounced about on the mattress. "Lord Nick, do you mean to make me seasick?" One hand languidly reached out to him.
Nick jerked at his trousers, wondering if he would need to instruct his tailor to leave a bit more room in the future. Lust for his wife would keep him from sitting a horse properly, and it was undignified for a duke to go around with split seams. A thought occurred to him. “You will have your own suite of rooms, next to mine but you will sleep with me, inmybed. Unfashionable though it may be.”
“I shall wear breeches to ride,” Jem slid her glorious legs against the coverlet, “under my skirts. I do not care to ride sidesaddle.” She looked at him with defiance. “Unfashionable thoughthatmay be.”
“I do as I wish.” Nick climbed into bed next to her, turning her body so that she lay partially on her side, partially on her stomach. “And so shall my duchess.” He ran his lips down her spine, all the way to the crack of her buttocks. “You have a most lovely arse.”
Jem moved her backside against his lips. “Mmm.”
