Page 43 of Claimed By the Duke of Ice

“I must admit I am feeling the same way,” Nathaniel agreed, continuing to stroke his knuckles gently over her cheek. “In fact, I am not sure I will be able to sleep for some time.”

“Nor will I,” Grace whispered, their gazes locked.

“Whatever should we do to tire ourselves out?” he asked, bringing his other gloved hand up to cup the side of her neck.

“Well, I am your wife, Your Grace,” Grace rasped, her body beginning to tremble with desire. “You may do whatever you wish with me.”

A low growl escaped Nathaniel’s throat as he suddenly brought her to him, and Grace couldn’t help the moan of her own as he finally kissed her again. Her legs immediately grew weak as she felt Nathaniel’s lips claim hers, but her husband’s strong arms held her to his chest, not letting her stumble.

Yes, Grace thought, needily wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck. Yes, please.

Nathaniel’s lips were somehow both rough and tender as he kissed her. There was an urgency behind the softness of the flesh, and he pressed them to her greedily as his tongue swept out to taste her. She moaned once more as she opened her mouth for him and felt her feet lift off of the floor.

“I would like to take you upstairs,” Nathaniel panted, breaking the kiss. “Would you join me in my rooms?”

Dizzy with desire and breathless from the kiss, Grace nodded.

“Yes,” she rasped, sliding her fingers into his hair. “Please, take me there.”

* * *

There was no numbness. No blasted trembling and no uncontrollable facial ticks. Just the need and arousal he’d been silently battling with since he first kissed Grace at the dinner party.

In a flurry of movement, Nathaniel scooped Grace and began racing up the stairs, stopping them once or twice so that he could pull her into his arms to kiss her again. When they finally made it to his rooms, he locked the door behind them and brought Grace to him again, pinning her much smaller frame to his.

“Touch me,” he commanded, his voice ragged with need as he wound his arms around her waist. “Kiss me.”

Grace obeyed willingly, a small whimper pouring from her throat as she brought her lips up to his. Her small, delicate hands began tugging at his dinner jacket, pulling it down over his shoulder. He let her go just long enough for her to push it completely away from him and then pressed her to him again, addicted to how she felt pressed against him.

With eager hands, he began to pull at the strings of her dress, clumsily tugging this way and that until he felt the tethers begin to loosen. As he did so, Grace’s lips left his, and she feathered kisses over his jawline and down his neck. Sweet arousal made him gasp as her small teeth nipped at his jugular, and he gripped the fabric of her corset so tight and suddenly that it ripped in his hands. Grace gasped, and her beautiful face flushed as she felt the confines break loose, and her trembling hands began to loosen his cravat.

There was nothing stopping him from this moment. No horrid memories, no blasted symptoms. He was just completely in the present with Grace, and he wanted more. So much more. His cock ached between his legs as they continued to claw at one another’s clothing, slowly losing pieces one at a time until they were completely bare.

When the last of Grace’s clothing was pulled away, he paused only so that he could finally look at her. A groan of need left his throat as he took her in, loving the way her body was put together. Her breasts, round and proud, sat high on her chest above her tapered waist. Unable to help himself, he reached out and caressed her flat stomach just below her navel. She jumped and gasped at the touch, making the flare of her well-rounded backside twitch.

“Do you like this?” he asked, his tone almost feral as he watched her every movement.

“Very much,” Grace whispered, shivering as his hand made its way to her backside.

Curious, Nathaniel flexed his fingers around the plump flesh, feeling another burst of pleasure when Grace gasped again.

“What do you like about it?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Grace’s lips smiled softly as her lashes fluttered, and when she finally looked back at him, she looked as if she struggled to find the words.

“It—it astonishes me,” she whispered as he continued his exploration, “how you apply such a small amount of pressure, and it still travels so deep within me.”

Then, seemingly emboldened, Grace reached for him and traced her fingertips down his sculpted chest, down his torso, to his hardened cock. Nathaniel’s breath hitched as he felt the sweet brush of her touch, and a small bead of moisture gathered at the tip of his cock.

“How does it feel for you?” she asked, her voice barely audible as she watched her husband’s reaction.

“I couldn’t describe it better myself,” he replied, lifting a caressing hand to her neck.

“You are so beautiful, my husband,” Grace rasped, her eyes venturing over his muscled physique.

Nathaniel chuckled darkly at her compliment. He’d been called many things, but beautiful wasn’t one of them.

“Beautiful? I believe that word is more suited for you, sweet one,” he replied, tucking his finger under her chin so he could tilt her face up to his. “You are a vision of perfection.”

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