The sweet sounds she made intensified his need, and he moved faster than he had planned.
When he crushed her mouth with his, she kissed him like no woman ever had. She may not love him yet, but she damn sure desired him. He’d wager every bit as much as he desired her.
“Now, Giles. Please,” she sighed as she pressed against him.
Everything in him coiled with need. He placed the head of his cock at her entrance and captured her lips with his.
She trailed her hands across his back, sending jolts of pleasure through him.
He found her slick and fought the urge to plunge into her dampness. His arms shook with his effort to maintain control as he eased just the tip into her, then stilled.
Her rosy nipples pebbled and rubbed his chest, begging him to pay mind to them. He bent his head and pulled one rosy peak into his mouth and suckled it.
She thrust her hips, pulling him in deeper, then stilled, a sharp gasp emitting from her.
He lifted his head to meet her gaze. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She smiled. “It is… this… you are marvelous.”
He stared at her, amazed by her reaction. He had fully expected to find pain etched into her features, but she was smiling. Laid out before him in all her naked glory, she was a vision of perfection. And she was all his.
Juliet reached up and rested her warm hand on his face. A soft grin still dimpled her cheeks. “I have the urge to move against you. May I?” she asked.
Chapter 11
Dover, England
Clear River Run
December 20, 1811
Juliet sat near the fire blazing in the hearth as she fashioned paper dolls and flowers. She was determined to throw herself into making this the best Christmas she could. Her first holiday as Duchess of Cleburne, and more importantly, the first as Giles’s wife.
The thought of him—of what they had shared the prior evening—had her blushing. Juliet had not been a fearful, unaware maiden. She was innocent, but not so naïve that she did not know what happened in the marital bed. Still, she never could have imagined lovemaking to be so… romantic.
Giles had been incredibly attentive as he explored her body and encouraged her passions. He’d taken his time and brought her unimaginable pleasure. The way her nipples had hardened with his attention, and her quim had throbbed as her skin tingled and warmed all over at his touch, had taken her by surprise, to be sure.
But nothing could have prepared her for her climaxes. They were earth shattering and left her more fulfilled than she ever would have imagined. Juliet never even dreamed that lovemaking could feel so splendid.
She could quickly become addicted to the act—to him—if she was not already. What they shared felt like magic, and Juliet wondered if he would come to her tonight. She hoped he would.
But she also felt a measure of unease. The act was every bit—no, more intimate than she had expected. It was as if he stole a piece of her soul when they joined. Surely her heart would not be far behind, and she still did not know if she could trust him with that delicate organ.
But, oh, how she wished to give it to him.
She wanted to belong to him, heart, body, and soul. To have an epic love story that stood the test of time.
Juliet twisted the ribbon in her hand around the paper flower’s base, then glanced up as Giles strolled into her parlor. She flushed at the sight of him and wondered if he would guess where her thoughts had roamed.
Heavens, she hoped not.
He grinned, a devilish smile that made her toes curl, then said, “You look fetching.”
“I could say the same of you.” She averted her gaze for a moment as she reveled in the compliment he had given her.
“You could?” He arched a brow. “Or you would?” His tone held a teasing lilt.
Juliet giggled at his jesting, then said, “I do believe I would.”
