Page 59 of A Heart Disguised 1

I gasped as the duke lowered me onto the bed, his powerful body a tantalizing shadow looming over mine. The plush mattress cradled me, a stark contrast to the hard planes of his form pressing against me. My heart raced, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through my veins. As his lips found my throat once more, I couldn’t help but quip, “Well, Your Grace, I must say your methods of introduction are rather… thorough. Is this how you greet all your guests, or am I receiving special treatment?”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Only the most enchanting ones, my dear,” he murmured against my skin, his breath hot and enticing. His lips resumed their exploration, trailing fire down my throat to the hollow at its base, where my pulse fluttered like a trapped butterfly.

His hands moved with practiced ease, unfastening the delicate top of my lingerie. As the cool air kissed my exposed skin, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness. My chest was as flat as a moonless night, hardly the bountiful landscape that I’d heard men preferred. Memories of Tessa andTilly’s giggles about their beaus’ fascination with their ample bosoms flitted through my mind, and I wondered if the duke would find me lacking.

But when his eyes met mine, they blazed with an intensity that threatened to set the very air ablaze. His gaze roved over my exposed flesh, darkening with desire. His fingers brushed over my nipples, and I gasped, shocked by the jolt of pleasure that shot through me.

“You have such beautiful skin, Robin,” he purred, his voice a low thrum that seemed to vibrate through my entire being. “Your chest is enchanting.”

I blinked, utterly perplexed. “Enchanting?” I echoed, my voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. “I’m afraid you might need to have your eyes checked, Your Grace. There’s about as much to admire here as there is grass in a desert.”

The duke’s lips quirked into a smirk. “Oh, but deserts have their own unique beauty, don’t they? Subtle, yet captivating.” His eyes roved over my chest hungrily, and I felt heat stirring in my belly. “Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’ve always preferred quality over quantity.”

Before I could formulate a witty retort, he leaned down and took one of my nipples into his mouth. A strangled gasp escaped me as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud. Oh gods, was this what people did? The gossip mill had clearly left out some crucial details.

His mouth was warm and wet, his tongue expertly teasing and flicking at my nipple. The sensation was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. His teeth grazed the sensitive peak, eliciting a whimper from me that I hardly recognized as my own voice.

As he lavished attention on my chest, alternating between gentle nips and soothing licks, I arched into his touch, my body betraying my desperate need for more. His hands roamed myskin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. One hand moved to my other nipple, fingers rolling and tweaking the sensitive bud, creating a symphony of sensations that left me breathless.

“I… I thought you preferred more… substantial partners,” I managed to stammer between gasps of pleasure.

The duke paused his ministrations, lifting his head to meet my gaze. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “My dear Robin, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Although,” he added with a wink, “I must admit, I do enjoy a handful… or in this case, a mouthful.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound quickly morphing into a moan as he resumed his attentions. My head spun with the onslaught of sensations, each touch, each caress sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. My hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the silky strands as I held him close, silently begging for more.

The duke’s mouth moved to my other nipple, lavishing it with the same intense focus. Meanwhile, his hands explored the rest of my body, tracing the curve of my waist, the jut of my hip bones, the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. Each caress left me feeling more alive, more aware of my own body than I’d ever been before.

As I writhed beneath him, lost in a haze of ecstasy I’d never known existed, a stray thought flitted through my mind. Perhaps this bizarre, impossible marriage might work after all. If nothing else, it promised to be an education in the most delightful sense.

The pleasure built within me, a tightening coil of sensation that threatened to overwhelm me. My breath came in short gasps, my body moving of its own accord, seeking more of his touch, more of this intoxicating feeling.

“Your Grace,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, husky with desire, “if this is how you plan to conduct our marriage, I fear I may never leave this bed.”

His answering grin was positively wicked, his golden eyes molten with passion. “My dear Robin,” he purred, “that’s precisely the idea.”

I felt a flutter of apprehension as the duke’s attentions shifted, his mouth leaving the sensitive peaks of my chest to trail kisses like molten drops along my belly. His hands skimmed down my sides, each touch sending shivers of anticipation coursing through me. My skin felt feverish, each nerve alight with a fire that only the duke seemed to stoke higher and higher. His lips moved downward, and I couldn’t suppress a shiver that rippled through me. The path of his kisses seemed like a cartographer’s route mapping an uncharted territory—a journey to the southern reaches of my trembling form.

What on earth was he doing? Was this what married life was to be—an endless exploration of each other’s bodies? I had heard whispers of such things, of course, but the reality was proving to be far more intoxicating than any gossip could convey.

As his mouth lingered near my navel, I wondered, with a mix of trepidation and delight, what he found so alluring about this expanse of skin. What treasure did he expect to unearth in such well-trodden ground? The absurdity of it all nearly made me chuckle—until his kisses edged lower, and my breath hitched.

His hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as he knelt between my thighs. There it was—his gaze locked on to the very heart of my trepidation. Beneath the flimsy lingerie, the unmistakable bulge declared itself with an assertiveness that betrayed my inner turmoil. I blushed fiercely enough to set the room ablaze with my embarrassment. Instinctively, my hands darted down in a vain attempt to shield myself from his piercing eyes.

But the duke gently pried them away with an ease that suggested this was but a minor inconvenience. “You look enchanting like this,” he assured me with an intensity thatsuggested sincerity—or perhaps it was just a demon thing? Was this what captivated beings from his realm?

As if answering my unspoken question, he hooked a finger beneath the waistband of the delicate lingerie and pulled them down. The fabric slipped away like silk waterfalls and there I was—laid bare in every sense of the word. My manhood sprang free, not majestic or grandiose but undeniably present—an average soldier standing at attention without any forest to camouflage its presence. I wanted to crawl into the deepest hole as he surveyed me with an expression akin to a connoisseur admiring a fine wine.

“You look enchanting,” he said, his voice rough with need. “I’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful.” His gaze was fixed on my manhood with an intensity that bordered on feral, and for a moment, I was certain my heart would burst from my chest.

I couldn’t help but laugh, albeit shakily. “I highly doubt that, Your Grace. I’m quite certain you’ve seen your fair share of… well, everything.”

His lips curved into a smile, but his eyes remained serious. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “But beauty isn’t about how much you’ve seen, Robin. It’s about the impact of what you’re seeing in the moment.”

And then, without warning, he leaned forward and took me into his mouth.

The sensation was like nothing I had ever experienced. His tongue swirled around the head of my cock, teasing and flicking at the sensitive flesh. His lips slid up and down my shaft, creating a maddening friction that had me writhing and gasping for air.

Pleasure, white-hot and consuming, coursed through my body. My hands fisted the sheets, my hips bucking of their own accord as I fought against the overwhelming urge to thrust deeper into his mouth.

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