She was not his cherished bride.
Nor would this be a marital coupling done with hasty discretion beneath the proper shielding of sheets—thank heavens.
The duke restrained his masculine force, but it hung in the air like a scent, taunting. Tempting. She’d glimpsed his manhood—he was already cocked and fully primed.
He’d said something before taking her into his arms. Something that had roused her anger. Only she couldn’t remember his words. She could not rememberanywords, for that matter. Words were stupid and useless, a mere nothing next to the wanton anticipation thrilling her blood.
Tonight, she’d finally understand the sounds that had filled those long-ago Caribbean evenings. She’d make sense of the shadows she’d seen dancing on the walls. She’d learn passion, unrestrained.
She wanted it all—all the sighs and the groans of pleasure—and she wanted it now.
Her hands crept up his hard forearms and into the unbelievable softness of his hair. Tentatively, she stroked his neck.
He ceased swaying, and a rumbling noise tore from his core. The desperate sound unleashed a sense of power, as if he had been formed for her and her alone.
“Kiss me.” She lifted her face.
He guided her mouth to his. The slide of his lips and the exploration of his tongue combined. This was more than a kiss. The heat of his mouth promised all she needed. Greedily, she demanded more.
“Slow,” he said through a ragged breath.
She shook her head no. Desire’s waves were rollicking and fast. Why wade tentatively into the ocean when she longed to dive and submerge?
She hadn’t felt him loosen the laces of her dressing gown, but the silk slipped from her shoulders down into the crooks of her arms.
“I want to see you.” His voice was low and raw. “I want to see all of you. I want you completely bare.”
She let the dressing gown fall. Her fine linen shift may have been near-transparent, but a barrier was a barrier nonetheless. She pulled the garment over her head and dropped both her shift and her gaze.
Nothing remained between them. Nothing at all.
She might have balked if wetness had not rushed between her legs. Instead, she relished his appreciative hum.
He lifted her chin. “Lovely.”
The feminine word from his utterly masculine mouth made her smile.
“You’re lovely too,” she whispered.
With a chuckle, he hooked an arm beneath her knees and lifted her onto the bed as if she were feather light. The mattress’s softness gave way to their bodies and a downy pillow cushioned her head.
“Ah, Lady Stone...”
His voice held the tone of a suspended query, but he did not complete the question he wished to ask. Instead, he occupied his lips with a kiss that began at her ear and then trailed from her neck to her breast.
He was gentle, so gentle. She truly hadn’t had cause to fear.
His lips covered her nipple, sending waves of pleasure down her back. He sucked and kneaded and caressed until she broke free of shyness and burned all at once.
“Impossible,” she said with a laugh.
“Impossible, yes,” he murmured. “Impossibly soft—”
His rough fingers traced her abdomen, providing friction to rest her mind.
“Impossibly inviting—”
The friction dipped into the cleft between her legs.
