Page 73 of The Scarred Duke's Bride
ChapterTwenty-Seven
As Eric’s large warm hand encompassed hers, Freya felt lit up from within— not only from the desire that had her weak-kneed at Eric’s defense of her and Isabella but also from sheer unadulterated awe. She hadneverseen anyone stand up to her father in all the years she’d been living.
They either gave in to him or sought to placate him. His combination of power, money, and audacity had everyone fearing him.
And Eric had chased him off!
They arrived at their bedroom, Freya’s breathing already coming fast. They stepped in, and Eric closed the door and locked it. He turned to her, looking bemused. “I cannot believe that you propositioned me. It was all I could do not to pick you up and have my way with you right there on the dining room table in front of God, Isabella, and everyone.”
Freya giggled nervously. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to be too forward.”
“Oh no, please,” he hastened to say. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. It made me extremely glad when you did that. It showed me that you truly do want me.”
“Of course, I do. Surely you have no doubt of that by now. After I did that thing you asked me to do the other day?” She blushed as he gave her a wicked grin.
“Ah,” he smiled as if reminiscing, “that was beautiful.”
“That was mortifying. I still cannot believe I did it.”
He pulled her so that she was flush against him. “All right, my darling. If you don’t want to do it again, we never shall.”
“Well…” she said quietly, walking her fingers along his shoulders, “I didn’t saythat.”
He laughed, low and deep. “Mm, I love how confident you are becoming.”
Freya looked sharply up at him trying to gauge if he meant it. He was smiling lustily, his eyes on her bosom, dark and pinpointed with desire. Inwardly she shrugged. It was always going to be difficult to tell what a declaration meant, especially when said in the heat of passion.
I shall just have to wait until we are both sober.
He leaned down and bit at the junction between her neck and shoulder. She shivered, looping her hands around his neck and throwing her head back to encourage him to do more. He suckled a bruise into her neck, pulling at her vein as if he were a vampire.
He let her go, stepping back to whip off his banyan and fling his slippers into the corner. In solidarity, she pulled off her morning gown and the two petticoats beneath before letting her hair free from its cap. His breeches were off, and he stood before her in all his naked glory. She froze in the midst of taking off her second petticoat and just stared at him, marveling at the work of art that was his body.
He smiled. “Like what you see?”
She nodded mutely.
He reached up, unconsciously covering his scar with his hands, and she frowned, stepping forward to push his hands away. She looked him in the eye. “All of you is beautiful.Allof you.”
He smiled uncomfortably. “I’m not sure I’m the one who should be called beautiful. Not when you’re standing in front of me with your marvelous cascade of chestnut hair, bouncing and alive, eyes like sparkling emeralds so bright and aware. You’re so willowy and yet full of soft curves. A fairy of the wood that likes to flit amongst her rose flowers and spy on the bumbling loud humans passing by.”
Freya’s eyebrows went up even as she giggled. “I had no idea you had poetry in you.”
“You bring it out of me.”
“If that’s so, then tell me more,” she said coyly.
“As we stand here naked?” he asked.
“Would you prefer to sit?”
“Let us lay down on the bed, and I shall tell you more.”
She finished pulling off her petticoat and climbed on the bed. He went around to the other side and climbed on as well. They lay side by side, holding hands and staring at each other.
He traced the curve of flesh beneath her left eye. “I could drown in your eyes, you know? They’re so alive, open yet mysterious as if one might dive in and then be surprised by how deep it is in there. An enigma you are, truly.”
She smiled, reaching up to wind her fingers around his wrist and keep his hand on her face. “I am just a simple girl from the country. Everything you see is what you get,” she whispered.
