It is nearly beyond imagining, and I am seized by tenderness for him. He has made me feel seen, secure and protected. How many women are fortunate enough to be in such a union? I only wish I have something to offer him in return to show my gratitude.
Then I realize, in fact, Ido. Not only that, my offering is all he has ever longed for.
“My lord?”
He has not stopped searching my face, but at my prompting, his gaze locks upon my own. “Yes, my lady?”
“I confess it.”
His eyes fall still upon my face, and I feel his body tighten in anticipation.
“I do want you. I… I think I always have, nearly from the start.”
His face is as still as his body, as though wiped of expression. But as his eyes peer into mine, I see the moment he believes me. His eyes darken with emotion. It does not appear to be happiness, exactly, but instead a searing passion. “Truly?” he murmurs.
The word is a caress to my ear, and I sigh against him. “I would never lie to you, my lord, for I know how I shall end up.” I pull a face, and he begins a to laugh, a deep rumbling laugh that radiates joy.
He still chuckles as he kisses me again, and I lift my face, eager to taste him. His lips press upon my own, firm and insistent. Passion consumes me, and I am wrapping my arms around his neck even before I am aware of moving.
Our kisses are not shy, or slowly exploring, as I thought might be the case when a couple embraces for the first time. These are no chaste kisses, but speak of passion that has been burning beneath the surface for far too long without expression.
What I said to His Grace is true, and my declaration is followed by my lips upon his own, my mouth opening eagerly for his tongue to sweep inside. Ihungerfor this man, and I shall see myself satisfied this night.
When the duke breaks our kiss and moves me from his lap and sets me on my feet, I am so stunned by the sudden change I nearly collapse. He quickly steadies me, and when I look to him, I see the longing laid bare upon his face.
“What… what is it, my lord?”
“I want to see you.” His voice is a husky thread of desire that renders me utterly breathless. “Imust.”
I have no idea how I manage, but I find the strength to inquire, “Shall I call for my lady’s maid? She?—”
“There is no time.” With haste, he rises and reaches for my corset stays.
“My lord?—”
His mouth crushes against mine, swallowing my protest. At the same time, he yanks at my corset stays and I am able to breathe freely at last. It is timely indeed, as my husband seems intent upon stealing my very breath.
With a ferocious pull, he yanks my gown until I hear a tear.
“You have nearly pulled it apart, my lord.” I giggle as I observe the torn fabric.
“Are you sorry?” His eyes radiate with need, and I cannot find it within me to care about a gown.
“Nay, my lord. But do take more care, or you shall spend a large portion of your newfound wealth replacing my fine garments.”
“Impudent wench,” he scolds, but there is a smile playing upon his mouth. “Raise your arms.”
I obey at once, and though it takes some effort, my gown is wrestled off. His Grace does not trouble to lay it over a chair, but merely tosses it aside.
“Neatly, please,” I say, my voice full of mirth as I toss back at him the same words he said to me upon my first smacking.
“Oho! Youareimpudent!” Though he schools his features, he cannot hide the humor in his gaze. “Fortunately for us both, Madam, I know just how to deal with such folly.” He lunges, but I anticipated this and bound away before he can catch me. “Get back here thisinstant, Duchess. Unless you wish for another trip over my knee.”
I flee across the room, squealing with laughter. The duke’s footsteps sound in heavy-footed pursuit, and I am nearly through the doorway when his hands span my waist.
“No!” I protest, wriggling and kicking. “Set me down!”
“As you wish,” he whispers into my ear before tossing me upon the bed.
