Page 85 of Seven Nights with the Wicked Duke
Her eyes softened even more. Without saying a word, she unbuttoned his shirt and tug it away. A soft gasp escaped her lips at the sight of the bruises and scars that covered his skin.
Slowly, her palm lifted to touch them, her eyes getting a bit teary.
"I am sorry for whatever might have happened to you," she said softly, eyes still fixed on his chest. "But I want you to know that you are not alone anymore." She sniffed.
Theo's grip on her face tightened with affection before he revealed a smile. "Not alone… no one has ever told me that before."
And moving even closer against him, she kissed him. Not on the mouth, but from his collarbone down to his chest, kissing every bruise and wound. Slowly. Reverently.
She traced the one along his ribs with her fingers, and when she kissed it, he let out a breath like it had been trapped in his chest for years.
"You're beautiful," she whispered. "I love every part of you."
That was all she needed to say before he completely lost his self-control. His hands claimed her gown and it slipped from her shoulders down to the floor. And when he gathered her in his arms, there was no fear. No hesitation.
CHAPTER 30
Cecilia did not remember walking to his bed. One moment she was in Theo's arms, caught in the storm of his kiss, and the next, she felt the tantalizing heat of his touch devouring every part of her body.
The fire that had dimmed to a low glow in hearth made the moment even more magical for her. Everything about Theo was extraordinary. Every moment with him.
She was barely aware of her own breathing. All she knew was that it came faster, her chest lifted and fell so heavily it was meant to scare her.
But such fear was the last thing on her mind when she was being swept by his hands, by his presence, by his soul. He touched her as if he meant to memorize her, with care and curiosity, like each inch of her skin was worthy of discovery.
She had dreamed of this—nights when sleep refused her, when longing crawled under her skin and demanded imagining—but none of those dreams had ever prepared her for the heat in his gaze or the reverence with which he handled her body.
"Are you nervous?" Theo asked, breaking the silence with his voice that felt like a gentle wind caressing the depth of her soul.
Her cheeks got inflamed when he brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. It was a faint touch, yet the effect was undeniable, and the proof could be felt by the wetness between her legs.
"A little," she admitted, her voice breathless and soft. "But not enough to stop."
His smile was gentle with a little touch of naughtiness. "I would never rush you, my lady. Not tonight. Not ever."
She reached up to run her fingers through the curls that framed his face. "Then don't speak of stopping."
His chuckle was low, but there was tension in his shoulders still. A part of him, she knew and could tell, struggled between desire and restraint.
That was always Theo. He was always fighting himself harder than he ever fought anyone else.
She noticed this. And before the restraining part of himself took total control of him, she let her fingers travel to the buttons of his shirt.
"I want to see you," she told him quietly, as though if she spoke any louder, the moment would get lost.
He caught her hand, not to stop her, but to steady her.
"I must warn you," he said with another smile. Except this time, the smile is a mere shadow of itself. "You might be disappointed. I have more scars than skin."
She didn't flinch. "If you have more than I already saw earlier, then I'll just have to see every scar again. To learn them like you've been learning me."
That was all it took. Her words. Their flavor. Their contents. All it took.
He leaned down to press his lips to hers again, and this time, there was nothing tentative about the way his mouth moved over hers.
His taste of warmth and promise forced a moan to slip out of her lips. His mouth moved against hers with unspoken words and his hands slid down her body with long-denied pleasure.
His fingers tugged at her chemise, playing with the fabric until her shoulders were bared.
