Page 36 of His Highland Duchess
Why fight it? Why deny it? I want one thing and one thing only, and if I keep me mouth shut for a damn change, I will get it. Oh, how I will.
She smirked as she wrapped her hand around the back of his head and pulled him back into a kiss. And the duke very quickly got the message.
His hand slid up the inside of her thigh. Her legs began to quiver. Between her thighs, she felt herself moisten. And still acting on instinct, she spread her legs even wider for him.
Those fingers next found the outside of her womanhood. He stroked her lips gently, and she gasped, kissing him harder and with more intensity. She held his head, refusing to let go, focusing on the kiss as she felt his fingers finally enter her.
“Urgh…” She pulled her head back, shut her eyes, clenched her jaw, and moaned as the duke’s fingers slid deep in her. Gentle. Caressing. He used just two, pressing them against her walls and stroking in a way that she felt pulse throughout her entire body. “Lysander… what are ye… how are… oh, God!”
He pulled his fingers out, raised them to her mouth, and she wrapped her lips around them, sucking his fingers, tasting herself, staring right at Lysander as she did so. His eyes flashed excitement, even surprise. And his grin was wicked as he took his fingers back and plunged them inside her a second time.
“Oh, how you frustrate me,” Lysander growled into her ear as his fingers continued to stroke her.
“I know I do,” she moaned.
“You like to,” he continued. “Admit it.”
“I…” She moaned. “I do… so… so much…”
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? This whole time.” His fingers plunged in deeper.
“It’s what you wanted,” she shot back as her body shook.
He laughed. “For once, Margaret, you and I are on the same page.” His teeth then sank into her neck, and she cried out as she grabbed the back of his head, shut her eyes, and let him take her fully.
It was hard for Margaret to fathom what happened after that.
Lysander’s fingers pleasuring her. His lips sucking and nibbling her neck. Her hands raking through his hair and traveling all over his body. She could not remember either the exact moment that he began to stroke the bundle of nerves at the top of her womanhood. All she could remember was the way her entire body rebelled and cried out and threatened to explode.
That was how it felt. He pulled her head into his chest and held her there. He stroked her, moving his fingers to the rhythm of her breathing, faster and faster as she began to shake and moan and then scream.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Don’t… don’t stop!”
“Good girl,” he growled.
“Yes!” she cried out as the explosion hit her. As her body spasmed and went stiff, and then melted. “I am. Yes. Yes! Lysander… oh… yes!”
She could not describe it. She could not explain it. In all honesty, she did not want to. This marriage had been confusing from day one, and perhaps this moment would only add to the confusion. Margaret could not say. She did, however, know one thing to be true, a point of clarity that she focused on as the duke let her go and she fell back on the desk, hardly able to breathe.I am hopelessly and utterly attracted to the duke. More than I thought possible. More than I should be capable of. Besotted. Obsessed. Choose your adjective, for they all mean the same thing.
She had been confused before, and this made things no clearer. But unlike with their first kiss, Margaret found that she was perfectly fine with this confusion, especially if this was the consequence that she had to look forward to.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Don’t go too far,” Lysander called after Aurelia and Lenora as they ran across the field and toward the small forest. “And don’t go in the forest! Girls!”
“Oh, let them have the fun of it,” Margaret chuckled.
Lysander grimaced, still watching his daughters chase after one another. They were laughing and enjoying themselves and having as much fun as could be, and she could see in Lysander’s expression that he appreciated this fact. But she could also see his worry.
“I’ll let ye in on a wee secret.” Margaret shuffled closer to Lysander and took his hand. He did not pull away, but she hadn’t expected him to. “The easiest way to make a child do what ye wish is to not tell them what to do.”
He scoffed. “So, I should just let them run about like a couple of wild animals?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she laughed. “My meaning is to nae be so strict on them. The more you try to pull them toward you, the harder they will push back. They are children, Lysander. Rebelling against the authority of their kin is what they do.”
“Not Aurelia and Lenora,” he protested. “They know better than that.”
