Page 60 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
“Hush,” he said. “Let me.”
She moved her hands away from his head and lay back, letting him flick at her nub, sucking the juices into his mouth. He licked and used his thumb to press down on the sensitive nub. Her hips jerked up, and she moaned long and loud. Her hips went up and down, grinding into his mouth with desperate need. He pushed into her with his fingers, imitating exactly what he’d like to do with another part of his body.
He snaked his hands between his legs and began to rub at himself frantically even as he pushed in and out of Freya with his finger. She murmured pleading words as her back arched, and she pushed her groin more insistently at him. His breathing grew faster and faster in rhythm with both his hands — one on her, one on himself.
“Freya!” he groaned as his body shuddered, leg shaking, the veins in his neck standing out. Her legs scissored around his waist, her hips jumping and jerking as she cried and groaned, shouted, and screamed. Then she collapsed on the floor, panting loudly, her hair in disarray. He lay beside her, watching her bosom heave, waiting for the disgust to show up on her face.
It didn’t come.
He looked away, closing his eyes. “We should sleep,” he murmured even as the blackness of unconsciousness took him.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Freya couldn’t sleep. She was so alert and awake, her body thrumming in the aftermath of their encounter. She had taken her gown off, feeling quite warm in the aftermath of their… activities. She knew she wanted to do it again. Her hand crept towards her throbbing center and just covered herself with her hand. She closed her eyes, just feeling herself breathe. She pressed down and made a whimpering sound at the sensation.
She turned onto her side, staring at a sleeping Eric and wondering what she was to do now. She didn’t know how they were to proceed. Eric clearly thought that his scar was an insurmountable barrier, and she did not have the words to convince him otherwise.
Am I sure that I even want to?
She sat up with a sigh, shaking her head. She had not expected that this would be as complicated as it was turning out to be. She had not expected towantEric.
“What am I going to do?”
She had absolutely no idea.
She got to her feet with a sigh, reaching for her dress that she’d hung on a hook on the wall, and she shook it out. It was quite a mess, the satin absolutely ruined, mud-splattered and wrinkled. She didn’t think she would ever be able to wear it again.
She shrugged. “Oh well. It was for a good cause.” She smirked a bit, giggling under her breath. Smoothing it out with her hand, she put it on. With one last look at Eric’s still sleeping form, she ventured out of the door. The rain had stopped, and to her surprise, she saw the sky was lightening. Dawn was approaching, and she found that she could see quite well. One thing that she could see very well was the extremely well-lit castle of Digby. They would have no trouble getting back.
She ran back inside, calling to Eric. He startled awake, blinking up at her with incomprehension. “Where’s the fire?” he asked.
“It’s almost daylight,” she observed. “We should go. My sister will be worried.”
Slowly he got up and straightened his breeches while her eyes slid away and her cheeks heated, and then he cleared his throat. “You’re right. We should get back.”
She took that as a sign that it was safe to look back at him. Her eyebrows quirked when she found that he was grinning. “Good thing we’re married, eh? This kind of thing can cause quite a scandal.”
She rolled her eyes. “Pick up your coat, and let’s go.”
Eric did as she asked, but he was still grinning maniacally much to her displeasure. She was surprised, however, to find that she took a secret joy in his childish delight. He went over to the mare, speaking lovingly to her as he smoothed the fur on her flank. He took her bridle and led her outside, the horse following placidly.
Eric had unsaddled her when they arrived, so he went back in to collect the saddle and reattach it. He held out his hand to Freya, helping her onto the horse before climbing on behind her.
Spurring the horse on, they set off at a sedate pace. The ground was still muddy, but the horse stepped carefully. Freya closed her eyes, leaning back against Eric’s chest, trusting that he would lead them home safely.
* * *
Eric rode slowly through the gates of Digby castle, a little surprised at the furor that their return caused. It wasn’t long before Isabella came running out of the house and straight towards them, looking frantic and afraid. “Freya!” she shouted and then looked at Eric. “Is she all right?”
Eric frowned wondering why she should ask that. He peered down at Freya just as she opened her eyes.
“Freya!” Isabella screamed again, running forward to clutch at her sister’s ruined gown. Eric supposed he could see why she would be worried. Without shifting away from Eric, Freya held her hand up to her sister who took it at once.
“I am fine,” she rasped hoarsely. “Just tired and wet.” She smiled reassuringly at her sister.
Isabella blew out of breath of relief and then began to try and help Freya off the horse. Eric hurried to help lest Freya find herself face down in the mud from Isabella’s frantic efforts. Eventually, they all got down from the horse and were surrounded by various guests, all talking at once, wondering what had happened to them.
His mother pushed her way towards the front, urging the other guests to stand back and give them some room. Then she turned to face them. “Eric, Freya, what happened to you? We've been so worried.”
