Page 39 of My Dark Duke

“I have never experienced anything like that in my life,” he confessed, his fingers stroking her hair.

It had been a first for her, but also for him. The act of making love had never consumed him like this; it had never made him lose sight of himself, or who he was. When inside Mary, he had not felt like one person, alone in the world. He had felt like a broken piece that had found its match. He had felt they were one.

It was worrying.

At that moment, he was too spent for worry, and he pushed the thought from his mind as he felt his eyes grow heavy. His arm curled around Mary, pulling her closer, delighting in her warm presence.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LILLIAN BLINKED HEReyes open, momentarily startled to find a man slumbering beside her.

A naked man, at that.

Her cheeks burned, as memories of the previous night flashed before her eyes. She had made love to the duke, with reckless abandon. She had cast off any vestiges of the prim and proper Lillian Hamilton of old, and had embraced her inner vixen.

She suspected she should feel shame at what she had done, but she could not. Last night had not felt tawdry or wrong; it had felt perfectly natural.

When Thorncastle had entered her, the sharp stab of pain had quickly receded, leaving her with only a sense of wholeness. Perhaps she was a fool to view lovemaking as the joining of two bodies into one, but that was how it had felt.

How it had felt to you, a voice in her head goaded her.

She stole a glance at Thorncastle, wondering if he had felt anything at all, bar carnal satisfaction.

In slumber, the duke was far less forbidding. His closed eyes were framed by delicate dark lashes, his cheeks mushed against the pillow.

Laughter bubbled within, as Lillian imagined herself pinching them, as one would a baby. No doubt that would put the duke in a tremendous mood for the day.

Between her legs ached pleasantly, though she felt a dire need to refresh herself.

Quietly, she slipped from the bed and made for the dressing room, where a basin of warm water awaited her.

Maude had been in, she guessed, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

What had the young woman thought, when she had opened the door to find a duke slumbering beside her mistress?

It did Lillian no good to dwell on this thought, so she set about washing herself. With a damp cloth, she soaped between her legs, removing any traces of last night’s activities. She then donned a fresh nightrail and crept back to the bed, wishing to savour the duke’s warmth a while longer.

As she pulled back the bedsheet, she noticed a small bloodstain - further evidence of her lost virginity. What would Maude think? And Polly?

Her earlier thoughts, that what had transpired between her and Thorncastle was perfectly natural, would not be viewed the same way by others. Though Lillian did not judge herself, she knew others might.

Troubled, she slipped back into bed, nuzzling her body against the duke’s to steal some of his warmth.

Her feet were especially chilled, so much so, when she pressed them against Thorncastle’s legs, he gave an unhappy growl.

“You’ve been wandering,” he said, in a voice thick with sleep.

He rolled over and threw a heavy arm across her body, drawing her close.

“Don’t wander too far from me,” he continued, pressing a kiss against the back of her neck.

Lillian shivered, as she wriggled against him. She curved her bottom back to meet his pelvis, and was rewarded by the feel of his manhood pressing against her.

“Lord, you are a temptress,” the duke groaned, moving his hips against her.

Lillian, who had never considered herself remotely tempting, felt a thrill at his words. She turned, so she was facing him, and tentatively, she reached down to take his erection in her hands.

“It feels like silk,” she whispered, confused as to how something so hard could also feel soft.

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