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Page 23 of Defying the Duke

He looked off to the side as if contemplating the question. “Perhaps husband will do. Let’s try that for the next thirty years and we can reconsider the matter then.”

“Very well.” She rested her head on his chest with her arms wrapped around him and listened to his heartbeat. It seemed to beat at a normal pace, but she had nothing to compare it to. What would cause it to race? Her grip loosened and she pressed her palms against the back of his coat. He was so tall, so broad, like a pillar to support them both. Her hands reached his broad shoulders, and she forgot about his heartbeat, lifting her head to look at him.

Jack was watching her. He smiled, then lifted her to meet his lips. She kissed him easily enough, having had much practice in the weeks since their engagement. He tasted of the mint candies he chewed after eating, sweet with a hint of burn, just like his personality.

She whimpered when his tongue swept into her mouth.

“I love that sound,” he said, breaking their kiss. “I want to hear what other sounds you make.”

They hadn’t been alone together since that last time in the office. Jack had insisted he wanted to wait, and she wondered if he was trying to prove he wanted her for more than her body. That body was his to worship now, and she couldn’t wait.

“Take me upstairs,” she insisted.

“Yes, dear.” He swept her into his arms and up the staircase, down the short hallway to the master bedchamber.

The room had a masculine feel, which wasn’t surprising, dark wood and equally dark bedding and curtains. She didn’t care what it looked like, since any waking hours she spent in that room would be spent looking at Jack.

He set her on the edge of the bed, which had been turned down for them by a servant. She thought he might repeat his ministrations on her thighs, and beyond, but he knelt and slipped off her shoes one by one, then untied her silk stockings and slid them down her legs. The smooth fabric made her legs tingle as it drifted down.

When he stood, he drew her to her feet and reached behind her to loosen her gown. It fell to her feet, and she stepped out, suddenly very aware of her nakedness. Part of her wanted to cover herself with her hands, but a wanton imp deep within her pushed her shoulders back and she stood proudly and let him look.

Her body reacted as if it felt his gaze, her breasts tingling and swelling when he looked there, butterflies awakening when he glanced lower, and heat pooling when he reached her apex.

She couldn’t bear the wait. “Is that all you’re going to do? Look at me?”

His growl and laugh sounded like a mix of surprise and delight. He shrugged off his coat. When she reached for the buttons of his waistcoat, he said, “Let me. It will take too long to let you do it.”

In an instant he was as naked as she was, in all his glorious manliness. Looking wasn’t enough for her. She ran her hands over the curved muscles of his chest, the ripples of his abdomen, and brushed her fingertips down the line of hair that pointed to his stiff shaft. She cupped her hand around it, surprised by the soft skin over such hard muscle.

He inhaled sharply at her touch, hissing when she slid her hand up his length.

“Oh, I like this,” she said, her grin widening.

“I do, too. But if you do it too much right now, we’ll miss all the other pleasures awaiting us.” He came toward her, forcing her back onto the mattress, then lifted her and tossed her in the center of the bed.

Jack loomed above her and she rested her head on the pillow, allowing him to look while anticipating his touch. He reached for her face first, running a fingertip along her jaw like he had during that almost-kiss. “You are so beautiful.”

What she saw in his eyes made her feel beautiful.

He traced that fingertip down her neck, dipping in the hollow at the base of her throat, and lower until he found her aching nipple. He circled it, and the skin around it tightened. He sucked the bud into his mouth, flicking his tongue on it, then pinched her other nipple with his fingers. She cried out at the delicious twinge, arching her back. “You like this?”

“I do.”

“So do I.”

He reached down to her belly, palmed the curve below her navel, and found her wet heat. His low moan was louder than her gasp of pleasure, and that pleased her for some reason. She needed to know when she pleased him, even though that hard rod pressing against her hip was proof of that.

His hand did its magic, building her need the way his tongue had, and a finger entered her, then another, filling her channel. It was glorious, and it was not enough.

When his hand left her, she whimpered.

“Patience, my sweet,” he murmured against her ear. He knelt between her legs, and she thought he’d kiss her there again, but he lowered her hips until his shaft found her. It slid though her dampness, sending waves of promise through her when it hit her hard bud, then it found its way inside her.

Slowly, he pressed further, stretching her around him. She wasn’t sure he’d fit, wasn’t sure this was something she would enjoy, but his hand reached between them and pressed her there, exactly where she craved something, anything, to bring her joy.

Her breath hitched, and suddenly his hips were against hers, and he drew back slowly, then filled her again, each time more vigorously. Her need was bigger than the last time, she was riding higher than before, and felt like the wave of pleasure would never crest.

Then it did. She cried out, and he froze for a moment, then thrust again and the wave peaked again. She wiggled against him, drawing out her pleasure, and he moaned and thrust once more as his seed filled her.

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