Page 74 of A Duke But No Gentleman
In silence, he undressed her.His touch was light but confident, as if the duke spent his days undressing women, which was probably closer to the truth than she preferred.Imogene glanced down at her legs, and was grateful the bruises on her body had faded.When he had finished, she felt vulnerable and a little foolish standing naked in front of him, but the front of his unfastened breeches revealed that he was aroused.If she had any doubts, he swiftly allayed them by stripping down until he was as naked as she was.
Imogene reached out and touched the light yellow bruising on his ribs that had not completely faded.He had been injured worse than he had let on when he had gone after—no, she thought, that odious man had no place in the room with them.
The rising desire in Tristan’s heavy-lidded gaze showed that he was wholly focused on her.On all the things he wanted to do to her.
“My love,” she said, sighing.
“Say it again,” he entreated, standing so close she could feel the heat rolling off his body.He was fully aroused, his majestic staff jutting forward.The thick crown brushed against her hip bone, causing her to shiver.
She cleared her throat.“My love.”
“Aye, that is what you are to me,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips.His face darkened with intensity.“My heart.My love.I should have spoken the words more often instead of just showing you with my body, assuming it was enough.If I had, maybe—”
Both of them had made mistakes.
“Hush,” she said, deliberately rubbing her hip against his manhood and enjoying how he sharply inhaled as if the movement wavered between ecstasy and pain.“Leave it in the past.”
“You are right,” he muttered, annoyed at himself for allowing his regrets to intrude.“No more talking.”
Imogene felt the palm of his hand on the small of her back, and in a fluid, almost dancelike move, he guided her backward until her legs bumped against the bed, and then she felt her backside sinking into the mattress.
Tristan caged her with his arms, his knee positioned between her legs keeping him on his feet.“Beautiful,” he said, staring at her with so much heat and love in his eyes that she believed him.
Trusted him.
Perhaps she always had on an instinctive level.If she hadn’t, she would have never encouraged him or allowed him to coax her into exploring her undiscovered passions.He had been a temptation she could not resist.Her tutor in the carnal arts and her lover.He would soon be her husband and the father of her children.
Had they already created a child together?
Her womb clenched at the heady thought.
Laid out on the mattress like his personal banquet, Imogene gazed at Tristan as he stared down at her with hungry anticipation.Straightening so he could gain use of his hands, he combed his fingers through her hair.He plucked out every hairpin and wasn’t satisfied until her hair was splayed out like a golden sun on the mattress.
It was just the beginning, and she was not certain she could withstand the torment.He seemed oblivious to his arousal, but she was keenly aware of the hot rigid length.As he touched her hair and teased her mouth with his lips, the heavy length brushed against her flesh, and burned her like a brand.She would have squeezed her thighs together to ease the warm tingles building deep within the core of her.His fingers had not touched those sensitive folds, and still she was already wet.Her body was readying itself for the union that they both were craving.
Tristan appeared content to take his time, and it was driving her half mad.Excitement and longing were entangled with a healthy dose of lust.
“My lovely duke,” she murmured dreamily.“Have I told you how pretty you are?”
“A few times,” he said.His fingers and mouth had moved on to her collarbone and shoulders.“However, I never grow weary of hearing how much I please you.Vanity is a hungry beast, and it must be fed often.Will you feed me and our son with these?”
He posed the question so casually, she had not deduced his intent until his mouth closed over her breast.Imogene tensed and arched her back slightly to meet the demands of his mouth.Pleasure shot through her as straight as an arrow, its target the very heart of her intimate heat.She squirmed against this sensual onslaught; the demand that he cease his teasing and take her was a persistent tickle in her throat.
“Will you?”he pressed, roughly suckling on her nipple.The exquisite pain was almost her undoing.Her breasts had been sensitive for weeks, and under Tristan’s calculated ministrations, they were inflamed.
“Yes,” she hissed.
“Of course you will.You have always been generous, and have never denied my whims,” he said, his breath coming out in hot puffs.
Tristan had tethered his own needs to give her pleasure, but he was chafing against his self-imposed restraints.Imogene silently wondered what she could do to send him over the edge.
It seemed only fair.
He nibbled his way down her flat stomach, and teased her navel with his tongue.“I cannot wait to see you swell with my child,” he said, inhaling deeply to take in the subtle fragrance of her desire for him.
He pressed a firm, loving kiss to her belly.A kiss meant for their child.
Imogene’s face crumpled as she struggled not to cry.She was overwhelmed by his acceptance and love.
