Page 103 of The Scottish Duke
Her hand was flat against his chest, a connection in the darkness.
He turned his head, wished he could see her, but he wasn’t about to light the lamp for fear it would wake Robbie.
Reaching out, he cupped her face, feeling the edge of her smile against his palm. He rose up on an elbow, bent, and kissed her softly, an exploratory kiss, one in which he tested his welcome.
Her hand reached around his neck and pulled him to her.
“Alex,” she said softly.
Slowly, he pulled down the sheet, giving her time to protest. She didn’t say a word, didn’t jerk the sheet from his hand. Nor did she roll away in speechless repudiation.
His hands slid over her nightgown, riding along the soft, womanly curves. He remembered her well. His fingers recognized the indentation of her waist, the flare of hips, the long, long perfection of her legs.
The rain-cooled air should have been chilly, but he felt like a furnace roared inside him. He’d dreamt of this moment, of seducing Lorna. More than once he’d awakened heated, feeling like he’d been celibate for decades and both wanting and needing her.
His cock hardened. His hands shook as he unfastened the buttons on the placket of her nightgown. He wanted to tear the garment from her but only slipped his hand inside the garment, feeling her breasts hard and filled with milk.
She made a sound when he stroked his fingers over one nipple and then another. Bending his head, he softly licked each before placing his mouth on hers.
Lorna deepened the kiss, her tongue dancing with his, her hands framing his face. Her fingers speared through his hair and kept his head still for her assault.
His heart was racing. His cock hardened further.
Suddenly Lorna sat up, ridding herself of the nightgown, the lightning outside momentarily revealing curves and shadows before vanishing and taking away his sight.
She surprised him by exploring his chest, hips, then plunging her fingers into the nest of hair at his groin. He could swear he swelled even more when she wrapped her hands around him, stroking from base to tip.
When had she learned to do that?
Her kiss was carnal and alluring, making him forget everything but this moment and her. The shape of her, the smell of her, the softness of her skin and the curves that commanded his hands to touch and stroke, remembering another stormy night.
His memory hadn’t been enhanced by time or imagination. Tonight was just as magical as the night a year ago. She was just as fascinating, but this time she wouldn’t disappear. He could hold her in his arms and know that she would be there in the morning.
He was the one who had vanished. That thought hit him with the force of a blow.
He was the one who’d fled from her. Had he been afraid or just cautious? Had he known that this one woman would change the life he’d always known? Not only his life but his view of it. His very character would be altered.
How did he make up for being a fool?
She’d welcomed him with grace. Granted, she’d questioned him, but that was all. She hadn’t punished him with silence or petulance. Instead, she invited him into her bed and now welcomed him with open arms.
Slowly he rolled over, taking her with him, his hands on her waist guiding her into position over him. He widened his legs and drew up his knees, creating a cradle for her.
“Alex?”
“It’s better for you to be on top,” he said.
She bent over him. “Is it?” she asked, the words infused with something magical, given the husky nature of her voice.
“I’ve been told it would be easier for you after giving birth.”
She froze in position, her hair draped over him, her breasts grazing his chest.
“And who would be telling you that?”
Torture. She was torturing him. Did she know it?
His hands were still on her waist. Guiding her into position, he rose up a little. When she lowered herself onto him, he closed his eyes, adrift in the sensation.
