Page 70 of The Duke Says I Do
Portia’s disquiet had receded by the time she drew away. Her smile felt more natural, as she slid one hand behind his neck and gazed up at him. “How else will I know what to ask for?”
His laugh still held a trace of incredulity, even as his brows lowered in thought. “There are plenty of unacceptable terms.”
“Good.”
This time, he kissed her. “You’re a rebel against your class, Portia Frain.” Once if he’d said such a thing, she’d assume that it was criticism. Now she heard admiration in the musical baritone. “I should avoid you. You’ll overturn the status quo before you’re done. Then what will a dispossessed duke do with himself?”
He made her sound brave and daring, instead of a hopeless misfit in the society that she’d been born into. “This particularduke is welcome to work in my kennels.” Sincerity crept in, despite her teasing. “I’m so impressed with how you’ve handled Jupiter. It’s a waste that you’ve never owned a dog. You have such a deft touch with him.”
And with women. A shiver rippled through her, as she recalled Alaric filling her to the hilt from behind.
His lips quirked with the ironic humor that always made her heart contract with longing. “That’s all right, then. At least I won’t starve.”
“Should the revolution break out, I’ll keep you in bread and cheese, Your Grace.”
“Fresh bread?”
She stifled a giggle, enjoying his nonsense. “Don’t push it.”
He laughed. This time, his kiss was more intense. She was breathless by the time he raised his head. He stared down at her as if he’d never seen anything so wonderful in his life.
Portia reminded herself not to trust that expression. This was only their first night together, and already she was melting into a lovelorn puddle. If she wasn’t careful, before they were done, he’d guess that she loved him and that her offer of a trouble-free affair was only so much hot air.
He bumped his hips forward. “I like to push things.”
Heat bubbled through her, although she wasn’t sure that she was up to another bout. She wanted him. She always wanted him. But so far, they’d come together in a variety of unorthodox places. The hay. The table. Bent over on a bed. She’d loved everything that he’d done, but the unaccustomed activity left her aching.
“I know you do.” Her eyes narrowed on that striking face. “Stop avoiding the question. If I want you, what should I say?”
“Just that.”
“What?”
“I want you.”
“Really?”
He shrugged. “Works every time.”
“What else can I say? Just in case I want some variety.”
The fond tolerance in his sigh made her fall a little bit more in love with him. “You just want to hear all the dirty words, don’t you?”
She tugged the curls at his nape. “I am after all a rebel.”
The green eyes gleamed with approval. “Very well.”
When he didn’t continue, she gave his hair a sharper pull. “Alaric.”
“There’s swiving and tumbling and tupping and bedding and rutting. Coitus.”
“Yes?”
“Any of those will do.”
She frowned. “They don’t sound very dirty. You can do better, I’m sure.”
“Copulate. Fornicate. Have intercourse. Know in the biblical sense. Lie with. Seduce.”
