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“This is not fair,” she mumbled. “I am bare as the day I was born, and you are still fully clothed!”

She impatiently worked on the buttons of his shirt and then pulled at his breeches, earning a soft chuckle from him. He pressed her further into the mattress, and she felt him—allof him. From his chest down to his muscular legs.

But most of all, she felt the hard, insistent heat of his manhood probing between her thighs. Scarlett wiggled a little, coaxing a strangled groan from him.

“You truly are going to be the death of me, Duchess.”

Quick as lightning, he seized her wrists and pinned them above her head. His leg slid between hers, and heat coursed through her.

“Are you sure you want this?” he rasped against her neck. “If you do not want this, just say the word and I shall leave.”

Leave?The word sent her into a slight panic.

“No.” She shook her head. “Stay. I need my husband. I needyou.”

“You do not realize what you are asking for,” he groaned.

She nodded. “I do. I truly do.”

He dropped his head to her breast. “It will be very hard to stop once I am inside you, but if you say so, I will do it. I will stop even if it kills me.”

She pressed a soft kiss to his head. “Husband, I thought we have already established the fact that I prefer you alive.”

He groaned, and she felt the broad tip of his cock prodding her entrance. She was still slick from his touch and his sheer proximity, but even then, she closed her eyes.

She may be innocent, but she was not stupid nor ignorant, as much as her mama might have thought she was. She had seen their horses mating in the stables. She also had a dreadful habit of listening in on conversations of a scandalous nature, and she learned enough to put together a list that would have sent her mama to bed clutching a bottle of hartshorn.

But nothing could prepare Scarlett for the immensity of what they were about to do.

And, good heavens, was heimmense!

She had heard some of the married ladies talk of the marriage bed. Had known that there was some pain involved in the first coupling. She just was not as certain that those ladies’ husbands were in the same league as Hudson.

She closed her eyes as he inched into her. Oh, he washuge. She could feel him stretching her, could feel herself opening up to accommodate his girth.

“Open your eyes, little cat,” he commanded in a hoarse voice. “Look at me.”

Scarlett blinked her eyes open as he slid deeper into her. She bit her lower lip, forcing down the whine that lingered in her throat.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

She breathed slowly. “A little,” she admitted. And then she added, “But I can handle it.”

His laugh was hoarse, part humor and part groan. “I know you can take it. All of it. I just wish I could spare you the pain.”

“Hudson.” She was beginning to get frustrated with him.

Why was he being a gentleman in bed? She wanted him wicked. Wild. Undone.

“Please.”

She saw his eyes darken, saw the change overcome him, and she nearly crowed in triumph.

He surged into her, wrenching a cry from her lips as the friction seared through her. There was a sharp pain, yes, but she could not even acknowledge it when there was suchpleasure. It was a little similar to what she felt when he touched her, but alsodifferent. More profound.

He shifted his weight a little, and she feltit.

Deep inside her, something was burgeoning. Like a seed that had found the sun. Like heat that lit from within.