Page 31 of Courting Scandal With The Duke

B arbara wanted this last assignation of theirs to be lovely, delicious and very, very naughty.

It was why she had arrived early. She’d eyed the sofa and the rug before the fire, but neither had seemed enough.

Only when she had wandered out into the garden and discovered this hidden gem of a garden had her imagination been fired.

Xavier was gazing at her in astonishment, and yes, delight.

He wasn’t so stuffy as not to be able to see the possibilities. She flicked the ends of the cravat. ‘Do you need help?’

Apparently jolted from his surprise, he sat up and divested himself of his coats and necktie, shoes, stockings and breeches, in pretty short order.

She lay on her side, one elbow, propping her head in her hand. What a pleasure it was to watch such a gorgeous man disrobe.

She reached out to help him with his shirt buttons .

He shook his head. ‘Now you.’

Oh, she had planned this so well. She rose up on her knees. ‘You need to undo the tapes at the back.’

He shifted so that he was behind her and did as she requested.

‘No chemise?’ he asked softly, running a finger down her naked spine between the edges of the gown.

She stood up and let the gown fall to the blanket. The sun on her skin was warm. The breeze a tantalising tickle.

‘No stays. No chemise. Just me.’

He groaned softly, running his hands up and down her sides as if learning her shape with his fingers.

All she wore now were her sandals.

And kneeling as he was, he was perfectly placed to taste… She parted her thighs and put her hands on his shoulders.

He glanced up and must have read the invitation in her expression.

He grasped her hips in his hands and nuzzled at her quim.

She widened her stance.

A stroke of his tongue made her gasp. She reached down and guided his hand to her breast.

The nipple beaded and hardened at his touch.

Pleasure at his touch on her breast, and the slide of his tongue rippled through her. His hand left her breast and he leaned back on his heels, using his thumbs to part her nether lips .

He blew out a soft breath. The exquisite sensation on her feminine core weakened her knees.

She gasped, clinging on to his broad shoulders for dear life, and yet she did not fear falling—his firm grip around her hips held her effortlessly.

He inhaled deeply, then buried his face in her curls. Then he did something that made her cry out at the unbearable pleasure, so exquisite, so painfully sweet, the tension inside her snapped and she fell into hot bliss, like falling into a furnace full of sparks.

Heat suffused her body. A lovely relaxing warmth.

In the darkness that filled her mind, she felt him catch her and gently lower her to the blankets cradled in his arms.

It was a feeling of being protected and being desired and being loved. Longing to trust him with more than her body was nigh overwhelming. But if he let her down…

Moisture leaked from the corners of her eyes. Why did he have to make her feel these terrible, wonderful emotions?

He kissed her chin, the tip of her nose, her cheek. He must have tasted salt.

‘Barbara?’ he whispered. ‘Love? What is it?’

Love. She could never be his love.

But he could be her lover. One last time.

She blinked away hope for something impossible and drew a fingertip down the side of his face.

‘Come into me, sweet,’ she said. ‘I need you.’

He ripped his shirt off over his head and revealed his erection, the hard shaft with the engorged head, showing he had seen to her needs before his own.

She cupped his balls in her hand, heavy and hot, and rough with crisp hair.

Brushing her hand away, he came over her and teased the entrance to her body with the head of his shaft.

Thought fractured and scattered.

Gripping his firm buttocks, she tried to draw him into her. He resisted easily though strain corded the tendons in his neck.

Lowering himself to rest on one elbow, he pressed little kisses to her lips, her chin, her jaw. He blew in her ear.

Tingles of pleasure ran down her spine to her core. She gasped.

He eased the head of his shaft a fraction deeper. Licked at her ear, then thrust his tongue deep inside.

She cried out at the myriad delightful sensations torturing her body. She felt boneless and tense and weak and alive and—

He gently cupped her breast, teasing the nipple until it furled into a hard tight bud.

And then he suckled.

She came apart.

He pushed into her, her inner muscles tightening around his shaft, every thrust pitching her upward again. ‘I cannot,’ she cried out.

‘It’s all right,’ he said soothingly. ‘Come with me, my sweet. Join me. ’

The longing and sadness in his voice told her he knew this would be their last time together.

Disappointment and longing filled her. Longing and heartache. For her? For him? For them? She wasn’t sure.

She arched into him, a counterpoint to each thrust, her legs coming up around his waist, opening herself to him, open and vulnerable, as she had been before.

He drove into her hard. Darkness and bliss beckoned and pulled at her. Her heart seemed to beat so hard she thought it might fly out of her chest. She clung to his shoulders, feeling the power and the strength of him in her fingertips and throughout her body.

The tension inside her snapped.

Pure white-hot bliss filled her. Her heart seemed to shatter at the same moment. A blinding pain that made her cry out.

He pulled away and spilled his seed on the grass, his chest heaving, his breathing rasping in his throat.

‘I nearly…’ He shook his head and collapsed beside her on the blanket.

She rolled into him, easing his head to rest on her shoulder, the heavy weight of his thigh across her legs a delicious heated reminder of what they had shared.

Delicious and heartbreaking.

Xavier came to with the sound of a bee buzzing somewhere close by and the scent of grass and roses and…woman.

Outdoors. He was lying in a tangle of nakedness with a light breeze cooling the sweat on his skin and grass tickling his leg. The blanket didn’t do much to soften the ground beneath his hip.

He lifted his head to look at Barbara. She lay lax, naked and looking good enough to eat. He licked his lips, tasting the many flavours of this goddess of a woman who tempted him beyond his ability to resist.

How many times had she died in his arms. Three, he thought. It could have been more had he had enough control.

He had proved to himself he had little control where this woman was concerned. And he didn’t actually care.

Some of the time.

He kissed the tip of her shoulder and lay back down.

She turned her head and those remarkable eyes regarded him from beneath heavy lids.

‘Awake?’ she murmured.

‘Barely.’

Soft white skin, gilded by sunlight, she stretched lazily like a cat, arms above her head, her breasts rising to firm perky mounds, the muscles of her belly flattening above the delectable triangle of tight curls between her thighs, and yawned.

His mouth dried.

Desire stirred.

Faintly.

She rolled on her belly.

The shape, the curves and plane of her back like a voluptuous sculpture.

He stroked down her back and over the soft swell of her buttocks, his hand, the skin bronzed from the sun, the knuckles scarred from many battles in the ring, soothed by the billowy softness of her flesh.

Entranced by the vision and the sensual sensation, he continued to stroke, and she made a soft sound in her throat.

Like the purring of a cat.

‘Like that, do you?’ he muttered.

‘Of course,’ she murmured. Turning to face him, she parted her thighs and rose up.

And… God help him, he was ready.

Groaning at his own stupidity at letting her lead him by that male part of his anatomy that had no conscience while simultaneously revelling in the hunger for her that had lust gripping him by the balls, he knelt between her thighs, nudging her knees wider apart until his fitted between them, her quim open.

He stroked along her slit and it was hot and slick and she pressed back into his hand with a soft sound of pleasure.

Control left him.

He guided his cock inside her and, gripping her shoulders, he took her hard and fast. His balls tightened. The sweet hot wetness tightened around his shaft, squeezing, flexing, and—

Bright light. Stark. White. Heat. The power of his orgasm shook him to the core. Struck him like lightening from a clear blue sky.

When he realised it was already upon him, he pulled clear.

Too late.

Too damn late.

His legs gave out. He sank to the ground. He felt her struggle weakly beneath him and somehow managed to move over enough to set her free.

Darkness swallowed him up in a void of hot bliss. His limbs were weighted by rocks, his chest heaving to draw breath.

Blackness swallowed him whole.

He felt her arms going around his torso, one arm burrowing beneath him. How long had he slept?

She buried her face in his neck. ‘Oh, heavens,’ she whispered between panting breaths. ‘What on earth was that?’

Had she felt it too? The jolt of what felt like lightning. He had come so hard and fast his mind had completely blanked. He’d tried to wait. He had tried, he was sure.

He’d failed utterly.

‘I don’t know,’ he said.

‘It was…amazing,’ she murmured.

Amazing and wild and glorious. Completely reckless. She could be expecting his child.

Barbara, carrying his child. The mental picture of her body swelling with his child was extraordinarily wonderful. Something sweetly painful pulled at his heart.

He groaned and threw an arm across his eyes to blot out the sun that had moved so it shone directly in his eyes, as well as to ward off the thoughts buzzing around in his head. They all ended up in one place.

They would have to wed.

‘If you lie out here much longer you will burn,’ he said. He could not let this happen again .

‘I know,’ she murmured softly.

She didn’t move a muscle.

He needed to do something. To make her safe. To protect her from the sun right above them.

He could not move.

He must.

He forced himself up and grabbed one side of the blanket, covering her.