Page 64 of The Duke's Daring Bride

That’s when he realized he was still holding it, and by now his spend was sticky and shameful.

When he looked up again, Olivia was covered, but coming toward him. He didn’t stand—it was impossible to be gentlemanly while holding one’s own cock—but tracked her with his gaze.

She stopped in front of him, her lips still curled, then glanced down at his lap. “Oh, goodness.” Her tone sounded surprised and innocent, but he could hear the laughter behind it as she pulled up a corner of her gown. “Look at the mess you made.”

When she used the silk to clean him, Alistair damn near bucked out of the seat, ready for a second round.

From her grin, she knew it.

But she didn’t say anything, just wiped his spend from his skin with a gentle hand. He needed a bath, but this was somehow so much better.

When she finished, she leaned forward and brushed a kiss across his forehead.

To hell with that.

His fingers closed around hers, and he stretched up to claim her lips.

To his relief, she didn’t pull away; in fact, she seemed to sink into the kiss gratefully, making a little mewling sound not unlike a kitten. The comparison made his lips curl beneath hers.

This kiss was gentle, and sweet, and exactly what was necessary after the experience they’d both had. He imagined he could taste her cunny on her lips, although he suspected it was just wishful thinking. Desperate thinking.

After a long moment, she straightened, still smiling. “Thank you,” she whispered.

And he frowned. He should be thanking her.

But before he could find a way to communicate that, she squeezed his fingers. “And now, I’ll leave you to your reading. What was it?” She twisted her head to one side, and before Alistair could kick the novel under the chair, she brightened. “Oh! That’s one of my favorites! Have you read it before?”

Cautiously, he shook his head. Didn’t she know men weren’t supposed to read those sorts of books?

“When you finish, will you tell me what you thought of it? The Captain is one of my favorite characters, and his speech to Miss Arabella at the end is so beautiful.”

Alistair had to admit the hero of the book was dashing and likable, and suddenly he looked forward to reaching the speech at the end.

She squeezed his fingers once more. “I’ll leave you to your book. I’m—I could do with a snack, so—uh. I’ll just…”

Suddenly seeming awkward, she dropped his hand and backed away. He remembered the small plate she’d had on her bedside table during their wedding night. Did she often have these cravings for midnight refreshment?

Well, he could help with that.

Aye, it was well past dark, and aye, most of his staff was asleep.

But he was a fooking duke, and he would feed his wife!

His mind made up, he stood, which caused her to inhale sharply and step back further. But when he silently offered his arm, she only hesitated a moment before tucking her hand into his elbow.

How hard could it be to find some food for his bride? It was the least he could do, after the gift she’d just given him.

Chapter 10

Well.

She hadn’t expected this.

After that incredible—nerve-wracking, but magical—interlude in Alistair’s room, Olivia planned on escaping to her own chambers. In actuality, that plan was the only thing which had made it possible in the first place; knowing she could run away after.

If she’d known he would take her hand, escort her through his dark home, force her to breathe his scent and listen to his soft inhales and exhales, all the while knowing what she’d done…would she still have done it?

Well, yes. You likely would.

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