Page 70 of The Duke and the Scarred Bride

“But—”

“Have you forgotten how you behaved at the last ball?” she reminded him. “You weren’t very nice. I seem to recall you being only a single step away from shouting.”

“Very well,” he relented. “You are probably right.”

She nodded and smiled. “So, will you tell me about the companions he mentioned?”

“No.” He smiled, shaking his head. “That is not a conversation for an innocent like you.”

“I’m no longer an innocent, dear husband.” She grinned. “You made sure of it last night.”

The air was suddenly thick with unspoken words, and he smiled, coming around the desk to sit beside her.

“I do hope you did not take offense to my leaving the way I did. I?—”

She stopped him with a finger to his lips, ignoring the way heat traveled up her arm and her pulse quickened so that she could get her point across.

“There is no need to apologize,” she told him. “I understand it is a new territory for you, and I do not want to rush you if you aren’t comfortable with it just yet.”

He nipped her finger, and she yelped, pulling her hand away from his mouth.

“You are a very tempting woman,” he murmured. “I am having a hard time keeping my hands off you.”

“Then don’t,” she urged, leaning into him.

She could feel her nipples straining against the tight bodice of her dress, and the friction was driving her so mad with desire that she wanted to undress right there and then. If he did not touch her now, she was sure she would combust. Sheachedto be filled by him again.

“Aren’t you… Didn’t I hurt you last night?” he asked, looking like he would pull away even though his hands cupped her face.

“You didn’t,” she reassured him. “I feel wonderful, and I feel like I might die if you don’t touch me now.”

He groaned and kissed her, and she buried her hands in his hair, kissing him back just as fiercely. She moaned at the taste of him and the feel of his hands gripping her through her tight dress.

She moved impatiently to unlace her constricting stays, and he laughed into her mouth, stilling her.

“Let me help you with that, dear wife.”

He pulled her up to her feet and turned her around, quickly undoing the fastenings of her stays. Her dress dropped to the floor, and she barely had a moment to savor the relief of having the tight fabric off her before he kissed her again, walking her backward till the back of her knees touched the edge of his desk. He lifted her onto it and stepped between her legs.

He removed the pins from her hair and then massaged her scalp. She moaned at the feel of his hands on her, leaning her cheek into the hand that caressed her face.

“You have no idea how many times I have pictured taking you on this desk,” he groaned, still fisting her hair.

“Tell me.”

He leaned down to kiss her, nipping a line from her chin to her ear.

“The very first day you came into my study, looking for your letter,” he whispered in her ear, “I wanted to flip up your pretty skirt and see if you would taste as sweet as you looked.”

She gasped as he palmed one of her breasts.

“The second time was when you barged in here, demanding that we share a meal.” He smiled against her neck. “I wanted to sweep those damned letters off my desk and show you just what your demanding tone did to me.”

“And then?” she asked, surprised she was able to ask questions, considering he had lowered his lips to her breasts.

“Today, when you came in here, holding those curtains.” He smiled against her nipple. “I couldn’t wait to have you all to myself.”

She smiled as he took her nipple in his mouth, and her back arched as he feasted on her. She didn’t think she could stand his teasing for long. Her hands went to undo his breeches, and he laughed.

---