Page 42 of The Duke and the Scarred Bride

“You should head back to your chambers,” he urged, turning away from her.

Panic flared inside her as she thought he was pushing her away once again. “Why?”

His back stiffened, and he muttered a curse under his breath.

“What do you mean, why?” he asked, still not looking at her. “It is late, and you shouldn’t be here.”

She took a step closer to him and then another. If he insisted on being stubborn, she was not going to make it easy for him.

“You are here.”

“It is my private space.”

“You made a vow that whatever was yours was mine.”

He turned to her then, his eyes flashing as they roamed over her again. “You do not intend to hold me to that, do you?”

“Only when you insist on being stubborn.”

“Which I choose to do to protect you.”

“From what? I am fairly safe here.”

“You do not know that.”

“You won’t hurt me,” she murmured. “You won’t even touch me, so I do not see how you could possibly be a threat to me.”

He chuckled under his breath. “You have no idea how hard I am trying.”

The words were said so softly that she almost didn’t hear them.

She dared take another step closer, placing a hand on his arm. He flinched as though he had been burned, but she understood as she felt the similar line of heat climb up her arms. His reaction excited her as the flames licking up her arm, spread through her entire body, arousing her further.

“Then stop trying,” she told him, meeting his eyes. “Touch me.”

The words seemed to shatter something inside him, and before she could blink, he pulled her back in his arms and took her lips in a punishing kiss. A moan escaped her, eliciting a groan from him, and his fingers tightened on her hip such that she feared she would have bruises in the morning.

His hands roamed over her body, gripping her punishingly wherever they stopped, and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why instead of pain, she felt only pleasure.

Had she somehow become a masochist without her knowledge?

“Percival,” she begged when his teeth nipped her neck.

“You started this,” he reminded her, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Now, you’ll face the consequences.”

His hands roamed down her back to cup her buttocks, effectively lifting her so she had to wrap her legs around his waist. Her eyes went wide as he led her to a small cot at the far end of the room. She hadn’t even noticed it during her brief examination of the room.

He laid her down more gently than she could have expected and covered her body with his. Instantly, she felt the difference between their sizes. He was much bigger than her, so she had to spread her legs wide to accommodate him. Her nightgown slid down her thighs, and she was achingly aware that if he looked down, he would see her sex.

She bit her lip, suddenly feeling shy, and tried to tug up her nightgown to cover herself, but the annoying man snatched her hands and pinned them above her head.

She seemed to have awoken the beast in him, she noted.

He looked nothing like the man who exercised self-restraint around her and avoided touching her with everything in him. Now, his hands couldn’t seem to stop touching her.

She wondered briefly if he had longed to do it for as long as she had.

“What are you thinking?” he asked suddenly, startling her out of her thoughts.

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