Page 24 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars (Ton’s Beasts #1)

T heresa held her breath as Aaron leaned in to kiss her on the neck, the cheeks, the lips. His touch ignited something deep inside her that she could not quench.

This kiss was hungry, hungrier than any they had shared so far. He pressed into her, his hands cupping her face and pulling her closer. She felt each intake of breath, each breath he released, each flick of his tongue.

Aaron was not just kissing her; he was devouring her. She surprised herself by responding to his touch in kind, the type of kiss that she was certain would have scandalized the nuns and sent them praying for salvation.

If this were the precursor to fulfilling her wifely duties, she would gladly do this all day long. She would go to his tower, and she would share his bed without hesitation. If only he would invite her.

And yet, was this not the kind of touch he swore they would never share on their wedding day?

She tried to follow that trail of thought, but was distracted by what his touch was doing to her. It ignited something within her, a heat that pooled at the crown of her head and traveled down to her toes. It was almost too hot for her to tolerate, each time his stroke passed over her skin.

Theresa noticed that the heat pooled in one place more than others. That place between her legs that she was taught was sacred, never to be touched as long as she was serving the Lord.

Part of her wanted to pray for absolution. The other part of her wanted to pray that Aaron would satisfy every longing she had. She was torn between the thought that what they were doing was sinful and the fact that she desperately wanted to keep going.

“What is the matter, little wife?” Aaron asked, as if he could sense the hesitation in the movement of her lips.

“I was just thinking of the vows I would have taken. The sisters would say that this feeling I have for you is sinful,” she admitted.

Though it was hard for her to articulate her thoughts, as distracted as she was by the feel of his lips on hers.

While she spoke, his lips moved to her chin and then trailed down her neck, where he nipped her lightly. She felt his breath against her skin, warm and sensuous.

“You have taken new vows,” he reminded her. “Vows to be my wife, and this is part of your new duties.”

His lips trailed lower, to the neckline of her dress. They brushed over her collarbones, then the swell of her breasts, lingering there a moment longer.

“Marriage is something sacred to the Lord, too, is it not?” Aaron asked.

“Yes,” Theresa murmured. “Marriage was created by the Lord and is a high calling.”

Without conscious thought, she lifted her hand to the back of her husband’s head. She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer to her, feeling his teeth nip her sensitive mounds. Then, she pulled his mouth back up to kiss him as hungrily as he had kissed her just a few moments ago.

“This is more like it,” Aaron whispered against her lips, before letting out a low chuckle. “You are my wife. You will have whatever you ask for. Even me.”

His hand slid from the back of her neck down to her chest. He cupped her breasts, and she was certain that he would have ripped her bodice if they were not in public. That he would have destroyed her gown without a second thought as to its cost or her own modesty.

Theresa arched her back, pushing her breast into his hands. But his gentle caresses would not be enough to satisfy her.

As if he read her mind, his hands moved down to her hips, pulling her against him. Pressed together this way, she knew they should stop and resume this after they arrived back home. The journey back home would be long; perhaps the night air would cool their passions.

Aaron must have realized that she wanted more because his hand moved to her skirt and started pulling it up. When his hand brushed her bare thigh, she pulled away from him.

“Aaron!” She cried out, realizing that she was in a precarious position in this beautiful gazebo, in the midst of a garden party full of his friends and what seemed to be the entire ton . “Someone might see us!”

Aaron threw his head back and laughed, a throaty sound that belied his desire for her. This was not the gentle peal of laughter preceding the heated moment. There was no levity in it, only the desperate need he had to show her new things.

“Let them see, then,” he said. “They will know that you are my wife, and I will do what I please. The ton will forgive you almost anything as long as you are my wife, remember?”

His hand slid up to the one place that had been aching for his touch this entire time.

Theresa let out a small moan as his fingers slid between her folds, her head lolling back in ecstasy. She was already anticipating what he would do to her, how he would undo her.

“How is it you ask me to stop, and yet you are so wet for me?”

Aaron had to know what she wanted. How could he not, when her sex was so slick for him? She could feel it in the way his fingers slid against her—a feeling she had never experienced before she married him.

“Tell me what you want, wife,” he demanded.

“I do not know how to ask for what I want,” she breathed. “What you do to me defies logic, defies reason.”

“Then you will let me do as I please,” he concluded.

Just as she was about to respond, he slid one finger inside her, and all coherent thought flew out of her head.

She bucked her hips against his hand. They moved as if they were no longer a part of her body under her control, but rather as if they had a mind of their own. She gasped when he added a second finger, his thumb pressing against her bud and circling it.

She knew she would not last long.

Aaron paused his ministrations for a moment, and she moaned in frustration, reaching for his fingers to push them back inside her.

“There is something else I would like to share with you,” he said. “Do you trust me, little wife? Do you want me?”

“More than anything,” she whispered.

His lips moved from her neck down her dress, before he bunched up her skirts around her waist and dropped to his knees in front of her. His eyes darkened with hunger. Theresa closed her eyes in anticipation, each of his touches lighting up a new part of her.

He kissed the inside of her knee. Then, his tongue slowly traced a line up her thigh.

Theresa could not stand to watch him. She could not stand how slowly he moved, how his hand moved away from her. But then his lips brushed her inner thigh.

She felt him breathe against her center, the place where his hand had been just a few moments ago.

“Oh,” she gasped.

“Tell me. Should I kiss you, dear wife?”

He did not wait for her reply; instead, he pressed his lips to her slick folds, his tongue tracing the same path as his fingers. She arched her back and cried out as quietly as she could, hoping that no one would find them in such a compromising position.

She had no idea if this was something their peers did regularly.

She had little to no experience to know what this was. All she knew was that she desperately wanted her husband, that she would beg him to do this again and again, to never stop.

And then she felt the pressure start in her chest and radiate out until it encompassed every corner of her body. She had never felt such an intensity, not when riding or praying. If she were to try to stand, she knew she would not succeed. Her breath came in ragged bursts.

“Was that what you anticipated?” Aaron asked, lifting his head from her sex.

“Better,” she panted.

She had no idea where he had learned to do all of that. How many women had he been with before he had married her?

All thoughts of Lady Isabella had been banished from her mind at the idea that she was the one who would experience this pleasure for the rest of her life.

“Do you understand now?” Aaron looked her in the eye, and she had no problem looking back at him. “You are mine . This is not about duty. Not anymore.”

She nodded, at a loss for words.

“We should get back to the party, as you were eager to do a few moments ago.”

He smiled at her, and she knew that this time, he was indeed making fun of her.

He tilted his head and leaned into her, kissing her on the lips. It was a tender kiss, not the passionate one from a few moments ago, and not the chaste ones he gave her in front of others.

She appreciated the subtle differences in his kisses and vowed to herself that she would explore them all.

“Do you need me to pull you up?” Aaron asked, extending a hand toward her.

A self-satisfied smirk curved his lips at the knowledge that he could do this to his wife. He was the only one who ever had and ever would do this to her.

It did not matter to him that they were at a party where his friends and even his acquaintances could stumble upon them at any moment. He did the same thing today that he would have done in the park had Morgan not interrupted them.

He lost all control when it came to his wife. He could not seem to master his desire, to stick to the boundaries and rules he had set on the day she walked down the aisle toward him on her father’s arm.

He had never anticipated he would marry a woman who would want him, as beastly as he was. The fact that she was jealous over him was more than he could have asked for. It made him want her more, to stake his claim on the woman who saw the good in him.

Theresa accepted his proffered hand and rose to her feet, the picture of grace and poise. When she took a step toward the stairs leading down to the gardens, her legs wobbled.

Aaron caught her before she fell.

“It seems that you are not quite steady on your feet.” He laughed quietly.

“It must be the things my husband did to me,” she quipped.

He had not seen her in such high spirits all evening, not even when they rode to the party on horseback.