Page 13 of Her Sinful Duke

Unable to resist himself, he lifted his hand and caressed her cheek. She felt soft, warm to the touch. He had never touched any woman who was that beckoning, that desirable. Lust raged on inside of him, and it was difficult to keep it controlled and restrained.

His hand lingered on her skin for just one brief moment then she took a step back, her doe eyes widening at him, almost as if she realized only then what her duties as a wife would entail. It was almost endearing seeing her so. And it made him even more attracted to her shining innocence.

“I know we have not discussed this before, but I have a condition for our marriage,” she stated boldly although James was a good judge of character, and he could tell when courage was real and when it was merely a façade for fear. In her case, it was the latter.

He smiled at her, resisting the urge to chuckle as he did not want her to think that he was not taking her and her opinions seriously. “A condition?” he reiterated.

“Yes,” she nodded, her beautiful, lush lips parted, as if beckoning him to kiss her. He would, he promised himself that he would, but now, he had to listen to her.

“You do realize that you are not in a very good position to make conditions, my dear.” He was playful with her, all to see where that would lead.

“Please, do not call me my dear,” she said sternly, like a governess endeavoring to discipline a pupil. He liked it more than he thought he would.

“All right, what would you like me to call you?” he teased again. It was incredible. She was bringing out the most playful side of him, the one he had not seen himself in ages. It was as if he was not himself with her but some old, carefree version of himself that did not exist in the real world any longer. Only with her.

“My name,” she clarified.

“All right, Penelope,” he said, liking how her name rolled down his tongue. He wanted something else to roll down his tongue, perhaps her own tongue, her pebbled nipple, or…

His manhood roared with desire at the image of her most tender, hidden flesh upon his tongue, and it took all of his conscious effort to subdue the desire he felt for her. “Let’s go back to your condition for our marriage,” he steered the conversation back to a safer zone.

“My condition is that there will be no heirs for the first year of our wedded life,” she stated more boldly than the last time.

Her words shocked him much more than he expected them to. In fact, he was so shocked that he could not utter a single word. All he could do was look at her in disbelief. Obviously noticing his shock, she proceeded to explain why her desires were so.

“I… just need time to adjust to my new life,” she told him. “You probably don’t know, but before I came here, I had been living in a nunnery in Scotland for the past five years. I was brought back a day before I was to meet you, and now this whirlwind wedding, I… I just feel out of place.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, shaking his head and gesturing with his hands. Only one thing rang inside his mind like an angry church bell. “You were in a nunnery? You are a nun?”

“No, no,” she shook her head. “I was an oblate.”

“What’s that?” he frowned.

He could see her facial features pacify slightly. She was not as nervous, as defensive as before. “It’s a young woman preparing to become a nun, but she has not taken her vows yet. I was in the process of becoming a nun, but… I did not.”

“So, you… wanted to become a nun?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow at her.

“What I wanted does not matter,” she told him in a way he was not expecting her to. There was so much sadness in her response that it gripped him by the heart instantly. “That is all in the past. What matters is the present. You and I are married, and I understand what that means. Still, I… I was hoping that you would understand my situation and… well, understand why I would need some time to adjust to everything, not just married life, but life in general.”

He could see that she did not want to talk about her life as an oblate any further which only made him more curious about it. Did she really want to become a nun? If she did, why did she agree to marry him? There were so many things he did not know about this woman, so many things he wanted to find out.

She spoke with so much clarity, so much reason that he admired her for it. He could not imagine what that must have felt like to spend five years building a life somewhere only to be plucked by the very root and planted somewhere else, expected to grow and prosper. That was almost impossible without time to adjust, time to get used to the new way of life. However, at the same time, he could not wait an entire year. He did not want to.

“All right,” he agreed with reassurance. “I promise you that I will not force you into anything you don’t want to.”

Her eyes fluttered at him. “Really?”

“Really,” he nodded with a smile. “Despite what you or anyone else might think, I am not a brute.”

“I never said you were,” she whispered back. “I merely asked for some time.”

“And time you shall have,” he said, slowly diminishing the distance that was between them. “I accept your terms.”

Now, they were dangerously close again, drinking in the sight of each other. He could tell that she wanted him as much as he did her, but she stated the terms. Now, she made it more playful, more competitive, and he relished the idea of wooing her, seducing her.

He leaned closer, whispering into her ear. “But I promise you one thing, Penny…” The nickname appeared out of nowhere, but it suited her so well. He breathed slowly against her warm, tender skin, dragging his lips from her cheek to her throat, relishing the taste of her. “I promise you will be begging me for a night of passion before the month is out.”

Then, without any other words, he crashed his lips against hers. It was a collision of desire that sent sparks throughout his entire body. His hand found the nape of her neck and his other hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. Her own hands fell on his chest, open-palmed.

---