Page 84 of A Stranger’s Kiss

“Time.” Nicholas ran his hands down her back. “Take time to learn who he is, my dear. He clearly is a man of regrets.”

She nodded. The line of her brows deepened. “This is so…so unexpected.”

“Aye.” He dropped his voice. “Now, I fear, I cannot ask you to wed me any longer.”

Olivia blinked. “I never took you seriously, Nicholas.”

“You should have.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “Now, it is too late. I can no longer ask. As a duchess, now, it is you who outranks me.”

A light entered her eyes. Her lashes lowered. “Shall I ask you to wed me, Lord Blair?”

“I accept.”

He kissed her, deeply, taking his time in tasting the sweetness of her mouth.

She tore her lips from his. “Take me,” she whispered.

Take her. He would make her his. At last. How fortunate that they had picked a room with a bed. He caught her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, his cock hardening in anticipation as he lay back with her across the counterpane. As the ribbon about her waist fanned across the bed, he found himself grinning. With one swift jerk, he tore the ribbon free.

“Nicholas!” She stared at her ripped gown.

The tear revealed the curve of her breast. Blood rushed to his cock at the sight. He set the ribbon aside for later and slid his hand through the opening to cup her breast. She moaned and closed her eyes. He knew she’d like that. He caught her nipple between his fingers and teased it into a peak. He withdrew his hand, grabbed the material in each hand, and ripped her dress the rest of the way. Her eyes flew open in surprise.

“It’s already ruined,” he murmured lightly, quite enjoying himself and the sight of her breasts laid bare to his eyes.

Any further objection she might have had was shushed when he latched onto her breast and began to suck.

“Yes.” She laced her fingers in his hair.

She was so responsive, so sensual. He swirled his tongue around her flesh and grazed her nipple with his teeth as he pulled the shreds of her gown and shift free from her winsome form.

Finally, she lay naked beneath him, just as he liked. He released her breast and began kissing his way down. She knew what he wanted. She opened her legs. Wide. He buried his face in her folds, tasting her dew on his tongue as he licked the line of her crease. Already, he was tugging at the buttons of his breeches.

“Yes, Nicholas.” She arched her hips up to his tongue.

As the last button pulled free, he rose to his knees. She watched him shrug free of his shirt, then his breeches until, at last, he knelt beside her, as naked as she. Rising on an elbow, she reached for his cock. He inhaled sharply as she traced his length with a fingertip, up, then down, and then back up to outline the sensitive head.

When she, at last, collapsed back on the bed, he eyed her with a wicked lift of his brow. Then, he slid his body over hers. Skin met skin. She was so soft. Like velvet. He kissed her, hard, as he slid a palm down her belly and slipped his finger between her folds. She was wet. Ready. But still, he didn’t want to take her, not yet. Sucking her bottom lip, he slowly let it go and reached for the ribbon.

“What are you doing?” Her eyes locked onto the length of satin.

He took his time tying the ribbon about her waist. He suckled each breast and played with her folds more than once before finally, he’d fastened the satin about her waist and looped the long ends around her back to draw them up between her folds. The sight of the ribbon encompassing her body was even more erotic than he had imagined. His cock lengthened. It was torture, an exquisite one, viewing her pink folds wrapped in ribbon.

Finally, he could no longer resist. Sliding the ribbon aside, he aligned his shaft with her entrance and slowly pushed forward. The sight of her body accepting him, inch by inch, only fueled his passion. By God, he felt harder than marble. He thrust his hips forward, pushing deeper until he felt her maidenhead resist him.

He paused. “This will hurt, my love.”

“Quickly,” she panted. “Take me, quickly.”

She'd scarcely said the words before he granted her wish. In a single stroke, he was through. She gasped, rising up, but he caught her in a kiss. Almost at once, she began to buck, signaling her pain had already eased. He met her eagerly.

She was so sensual, such a wildly passionate creature, so perfect a match. They moved together, with an ever-increasing vigor. She was sweet blessed heaven, taking him completely, her flesh molding around his. He felt his seed rise.

He couldn’t finish before her. Desperately, he held onto every shred of control. His breath turned ragged. He knew she was close. He’d watched her release enough times over the past few weeks to recognize the signs. She closed her eyes, moving freely, uninhibited by her passion. She began to shudder. He thrust harder. With a gasped, he released his seed, as she bucked in the throes of her release.

Finally, when the last waves of their passion faded, he slid his body off hers and lay by her side. “My love, will you marry me?”

She opened her eyes, slowly. “Is this a jest?”

“Nae,” he whispered. “It never was. Not once.”

Her eyes widened, then, she said the words he so longed to hear, “Yes, my love.”