Page 34 of The Earl's Scarred Bride

She shook her head mutely.

"I think of how brave you are. How strong." His fingers finally made contact, following the path down her neck with exquisite gentleness. "How every mark, every imperfection only makes you more beautiful to me."

A small sound escaped her throat—something between a gasp and a whimper that made his blood surge. "May I touch you, Elizabeth?"

Her eyes, dark with desire, met his. "Yes."

Cecil's control snapped at that single word. He pulled her flush against him, one hand tangling in her hair while the other pressed against the small of her back. Her softness molded to his harder frame perfectly, as if she'd been made for him.

"Tell me to stop," he growled against her throat, his lips tracing the path his fingers had taken. "Tell me this isn't what you want."

But Elizabeth's only response was to arch into him, her hands clutching his shoulders as he explored the sensitive skin of her neck. When his teeth grazed her pulse point, she gasped his name.

The sound undid him completely. He backed her toward his desk, lifting her to sit on its edge. Ledgers and papers scattered to the floor, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when she was looking at him with such trust, such naked want in her eyes.

"You're exquisite," he murmured, his hands sliding down her sides to her hips. "Every inch of you deserves to be worshipped."

Her cheeks flushed beautifully at his words. "Cecil, please..."

"Please what, hmmm?" He pressed open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, relishing how she trembled beneath his touch. "Tell me what you want."

"I..." She broke off with a moan as his hands slid beneath her skirts, caressing her ankles, her calves, the sensitive skin behind her knees. "I want you to touch me. Everywhere."

"As my lady commands," he breathed, sinking to his knees before her. His hands slid higher beneath her skirts, caressing the silken skin of her thighs. Her breath came in short pants now, her head falling back as he explored her with reverent touches.

Cecil had known pleasure before, had taken his fill of willing women in his rakish days. But nothing compared to this—to the sight of his proud, proper wife coming undone beneath his hands. To the way she trembled and gasped his name, her fingers threading through his hair as he worshipped her with his mouth.

She was magnificent in her abandon, all trace of insecurity forgotten as pleasure overtook her. When she shattered beneath his touch, crying out his name like a prayer, Cecil felt something shift inside his chest—something dangerous and wonderful that he wasn't ready to examine too closely.

He pressed one last kiss to her inner thigh before rising, drinking in the sight of her. Her hair had come partially loose, dark curls framing her flushed face. Her lips were parted,swollen from where she'd bitten them to keep quiet. She had never looked more beautiful.

Cecil, still kneeling before Elizabeth, let his hands linger on her thighs, feeling the delicate tremors that rippled through her muscles. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire and something more profound—a reverence that neither of them had expected. Her cheeks were flushed, her breath coming in shallow gasps, and her eyes held a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability that stirred something deep within him.

Slowly, deliberately, he let his hands slide higher, the warmth of her skin seeping into his palms like a brand. He could feel her heartbeat, quick and erratic, through his fingertips. The sensation was intoxicating, a powerful awareness that he was the cause of her undoing.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, his voice a low rasp. "Look at me."

She opened her eyes, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks, and met his gaze. The depth of emotion in her eyes was nearly his undoing. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of her knee, feeling her shiver beneath his touch.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his breath warm against her skin.

She nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "Yes," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

Encouraged, Cecil let his fingers dance higher, tracing the soft skin of her inner thighs. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, the subtle moisture that gathered as her desire grew. It was a heady sensation, knowing that she was aroused by him, that her body responded to his touch with such eager abandon.

He let his lips follow the path of his fingers, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along her thighs, feeling the way her muscles quivered beneath his touch. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her arousal filling his senses, making his own desire surge and throb. But he held back, determination swelling within him. This moment was not about his pleasure; it was about hers, about showing her just how cherished and desired she was.

As he approached the apex of her thighs, Elizabeth's breath hitched, her fingers tightening in his hair. He paused, looking up at her with a question in his eyes. She nodded almost imperceptibly, her lips parting on a silent gasp as he let his breath fan over her most intimate place.

Cecil felt a wave of tenderness and awe as he marveled at her trust, her surrender. With a gentle touch, he parted her folds, revealing the glistening pink flesh that lay hidden. He couldn't help the small groan that escaped him at the sight, the sheer beauty of her making his chest ache.

He leaned in, letting his tongue delve slowly, carefully along her slit. She tasted like the sweetest nectar, like something ethereal and forbidden. Her gasp echoed through the room, her fingers clenching convulsively in his hair as she arched towards him."Cecil," she whispered, his name a plea and a prayer. Hehummed softly against her, the vibration making her shudder. With deliberate slowness, he began to explore her with his tongue, learning the intricacies of her body, the places that made her gasp and squirm.

He paid close attention to her reactions, to the way her breath hitched when he circled her clit, to the way her hips arched when he dipped his tongue into her entrance. It was a dance of discovery, a sensual journey that he reveled in, each shiver and moan from her a victory that made his heart soar.

As he continued his ministrations, he let his hands wander, caressing the soft curves of her thighs, her hips, her abdomen. He could feel the way her muscles tensed and relaxed under his touch, the way her body was coiling with pleasure. It was a beautiful sight, the way she surrendered to him, trusting him completely.

He focused his attention on her clit, letting his tongue flick and tease the sensitive bundle of nerves. Elizabeth's breath grew more ragged, her fingers tightening in his hair as she held him close. He could feel the way her body was building towards release, the subtle tensing of her muscles, the increasing wetness under his tongue.

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