Page 47 of Marigold and the Marquess
She sat up and nudged him to sit up as well so that she could look at his back.
Blast.
His scars.
He should have warned her about those.
Now she was struggling to hold back her tears. “Is this what they did to you?”
“In captivity? Yes.” Perhaps she would now understand why he wanted to kill those men. His back was not going to heal any more than it already had, and would always bear the marks of those beatings. Sometimes his captors had beaten him with a stick, sometimes with a whip. Each lash was burned into his skin and his memory. But this is not what he wanted to think about tonight or ever again for the rest of his life.
He wanted the memory of Marigold’s soft kisses on his body and her scent that reminded him of crisp autumn days, cinnamon, and chestnuts roasting on a crackling fire lingering on his skin. He rolled her back down and settled over her, determined to give them both a memorable night.
Thebestnight of their lives would have to wait until he claimed her fully, for only then would he truly make her his own.
This was not going to happen tonight, no matter how desperately each of them wished for it. He intended to make up for the lack by sending her soaring in every other way possible. “Ready, love? Hold onto me.”
“All right. What are you about to do?”
He kissed her softly on the mouth. “Send you on a journey to the stars.”
Her laughter was light and melodic. “No, really Leo. What are we going to do?”
CHAPTER 8
MARIGOLD HAD NOidea what to expect on her wedding night, but lying in Leo’s arms while he made her body hum like the soft strains of a harp plucked by a master was exquisite beyond anything she could have imagined.
Sweet salvation!
This man knew what he was doing.
But everything contributed to the magic of the night, the large bed and clean sheets that felt cool beneath their bodies, and the windows left open to allow in the scent of flowers from Leo’s magnificent garden. A refreshing breeze washed over their heated bodies, while a big, silver moon glowed majestically and filled the window’s frame. Moonlight slanted across their bed, wrapping them in silvery beams of light.
Mostly, there was Leo.
Big and muscled, his body beautifully taut as he settled over her.
Leo with all his pain and anguish momentarily forgotten while he kissed her as though she was the breath of life to him. He suckled her breasts, teasing them lightly with his tongue and lips, smiling as fire shot through her veins and she moaned in response. “This is just the beginning, love.”
Tingles skittered along her dampening skin whenever he referred to her as his love. “Oh, Leo.”
She wanted to believe him, to pretend it was possible for this man who had survived the bowels of hell to love her. How could he when she was inexperienced, not well-traveled, not sophisticated or beautiful in a traditional way, and was probably far too cheerful for someone as tormented as him to tolerate?
“Close your eyes, sweetheart. Feel the flames sweep through you.”
She was feeling the fire, for certain.
Just when she thought her body could not get hotter, he slid his hand between her legs and gently parted them.Dear heaven.What was he doing?
The answer came in a trice as he touched her intimately, his fingers finding her core and stroking herthere, coaxing the wildest sensations out of her.
Her body turned molten.
She was lost to him, lost in the splendor of the moment.
He had a way of touching her, looking at her, kissing her. Making her believe he cherished her.
He could not have lost his heart to her as quickly as she had lost hers to him. She knew it could not be, for there was still too much anger inside of him, the cold sort of anger that turned one’s heart to ice.
