“Ah.” The duke smiles warmly and moves his hand down my shoulder and onto my waist. “I shall be most pleased to grant your wish.” He leans nearer and presses his lips against mine, sealing the promise. When he breaks the kiss, he holds one of my curls in his hand and begins to wind it around his finger. “Perhaps you might consider granting one of mine?”
I am a bit breathless from the kiss, and amazed my body seems to long for him again so soon. “Yes, my lord? Anything.”
His smile grows. “I would be delighted if you will call me by my given name—Gregor.”
“Gregor,” I test it out on my tongue, and cannot help but smile at the delight that washes over his face. “Of course, my lord.”
“Or, perhaps ‘Daddy’ when you have been naughty.”
Something about the way his eyes dance at me, or perhaps the word ‘naughty’ makes my stomach fall. “I have never heard it before,” I admit, wondering if he sees the confusion within me displayed on my face. “What does it mean?”
“It’s a word naughty little lasses use when they need to make amends—when they are going to receive their chastisement.”
Another shiver steals over my body, but rather than pull away, I fold myself into his embrace. Gregor pulls me closer to him, letting his naked body provide the warmth I so crave.
“Am I in trouble now?” I peek up at him.
“No, my pet, but knowing you as I do, I suspect it will not take very long.”
I shake my head. “I still ache! I shall be very well behaved, I assure you!”
He laughs at my insistence. “Do you?” He moves his hand down my waist, and he seizes a handful of my backside and gives the sore flesh a squeeze.
“Oh, Your Grace!” I mewl, curling into him.
“Daddy,” he reminds me, his voice soft and playful.
“Daddy, then. Please stop,” I plead, looking up at him with sorrowful eyes.
“Very well, my dove, since you asked so prettily.” He releases my poor posterior, but it still aches and throbs with the memory of his touch.
“Do I… might I be allowed… to… touch you?”
Gregor laughs softly. “I have never seen you so shy and uncertain, Freya. I declare, I do believe I like this side of you.”
I am far from sure ifIlike it, but at least in this moment, I am happy to please him.
“Yes, of course you may.”
Permission granted, I sit up and scoot back to look at him. His naked form—the first I have ever seen in its full glory—is better than I have imagined. He is better than a sculpture with his perfectly formed muscles, strong shoulders, his broad chest with fine, dark hair, and his well-defined stomach.
“Well? Do I meet with your approval?” He smiles roguishly.
“Nowyou’rethe one who is being impertinent,” I scold as I attempt to playfully smack his chest.
His Grace catches my hand easily. “Oho! I said you would find your way into mischief soon enough.”
Before I can protest or offer a word for my own defense, his mouth is crashing down upon mine. Almost before I see it coming, I sense it, and raise my head for the onslaught. These are no careful, gentle kisses. Instead, his lips bruise mine in a claiming embrace that leaves me quite spent by the time he is through.
And yet, I have never been happier.
“Naughty wench,” he scolds, his finger lightly flicking the taut peak on my breast. “Are you ready to plead for my forgiveness?” His eyes dance merrily, darkening in desire that matches my own.
“Never,” I vow solemnly.
“Very well then. We shall see who can outlast whom.”
Before I can even comprehend his words, he is lifting me up. I catch a mere glimpse of his stiff manhood before he is setting me down upon it. And when he has filled me—oh! I am breathless with the wonder of it, but before I can grow accustomed, his hands are upon my hips. Wordlessly, he moves me until I understand the motion he desires me to mimic.
