Page 64 of His Runaway Duchess

She barely had time to catch her breath before the mattress dipped and Edward crawled over her. He hovered above her, flushed and breathing heavily. Daphne’s hand rose of its own accord, skimming across the sharp line of his jaw.

“You have no idea what you do to me, wretched woman,” he breathed, his voice cracking.

“I thought I told you to call me Daphne,” she responded.

He growled and lunged down to kiss her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to pull him down towards her, trying to get him to put his weight on her. She wasn’t sure how she knew that it was something she wanted, but shedidwant it. It felt as though every fiber of her being was singing,wantinghim.

Abruptly, he slid out of her grasp, pulling himself further down her body until his chin rested on the center of her sternum. He glanced up at her, his eyes dark with lust, and she reached downimpulsively to touch his hair. It fell over his forehead, hiding his eyes, and she smoothed it back.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he pressed a kiss to her stomach, through the fabric of the nightgown, and she felt the heat of his lips.

He sank lower, and when he threw her thighs around his shoulders, Daphne realized in a dizzying rush what he meant to do.

“Edward…” she managed, her voice thick, and he glanced up at her.

He pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, the prickle of stubble scratching the sensitive skin.

“You might have marched in here and demanded I do my husbandly duties,” he said, his voice as harsh as gravel, “but I won’t force you to do something you don’t wish to. If you want me to stop, Daphne, you only need to say the word.”

She swallowed, trying in vain to get some moisture into her mouth.

“I… I don’t want you to stop.”

He grinned, looking more beastly than she could have imagined.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

When he put his mouth on the junction between her legs, Daphne’s whole body jerked, awestruck. She could not have imagined a sensation like it, and it rippled through her whole being, forcing out all other thoughts. She arched her back without thinking about it, her hands coming down to clutch his broad shoulders and twine in his hair. She could feel his fingertips pressing into the meat of her thighs, little burning circles that she just knew she would feel for hours or perhaps days afterward.

When her climax rushed upon her, she tightened her fingers in his hair reflexively, and he growled deep in his chest.Thatwas thrilling, too.

She was still floating somewhere up against the ceiling when Edward pulled back, wiping his chin with his sleeve and breathing heavily. She blinked up at him, watching him watch her. His breath was ragged, even more so now than before, and she could see the way his arousal strained painfully against the front of his breeches.

This was the moment, then.Themoment when he’d lower himself again and push himself into her. Daphne would have been lying before if she claimed not to be nervous about this aspect of marriage—like any overly curious unwed lady, she’d heard horror stories about men and wedding nights—but now she found that the idea of it thrilled her more than she could have imagined.

But then, quite abruptly, Edward turned away, climbing off the bed and walking towards the fire.

“You can go now,” he said shortly.

“You can go now,” Edward said, making sure to keep his back turned.

His arousal was painful and had been for a while, but he reminded himself that he was a grown man and could control his base desires just as well as anybody.

There was a rustling behind him, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he could see that Daphne was sitting up on the bed, staring at him, bewildered.

He had to look away. She was so delightfully flushed, so ruffled and wanton andbeautifulthat if he’d stared at her for too long, he might have pounced on her again. Her nightgown, which he’d pushed up around her waist to bare acres of smooth white flesh, had come down again, hanging around her knees. Perhaps she’d pulled it down, suddenly self-conscious of her nakedness.

“You want me to leave?” she responded at last, her voice a little hoarse. “Why? I thought you were going to… Well, I don’t know how you’re meant to say it. Finish it all off, I suppose?”

You think I don’t dream of finishingwith you, wretched girl? You think I won’t dream of it tonight? You think I won’t dream of you?

Aloud, he only said, “Yes, I think that’s for the best. I’ve done my husbandly duties, have I not? You seemed happy enough. Now I’d like to sleep. We’ve both had a long day. Your maid will come in to wake you in the morning. Her name is Joan, and she tends to panic easily. She’ll worry if you aren’t in bed and probably cry. You can’t sleep here, Daphne.”

He glanced over his shoulder again and saw that the soft look had vanished from her face, replaced by something harder. She scrambled to the edge of the bed, her legs dangling comically high above the floor.

“Very well,” she responded hotly. “I shan’t stay where I’m not welcome.”

---