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“Really…” She felt her pulse quicken under his hungry gaze.

“Every night I have thought of you. And more than once I have even risen from my bed, intent on breaking into your quarters and…” He forced himself to stop, groaning and taking a breath. “As I said, it has been hard. Damn near impossible.” His eyes flicked to her bare shoulder.

Margaret’s heart was racing. Relief flooded her. She had known that there must have been a reason he had been so chaste toward her. It was frustrating. Confusing too. At least now, her questions had been answered. He wants me just as I want him.

And where it would have been easy for her to tell him this and confirm they were of the same mind, a most wicked idea suddenly crossed Margaret’s thoughts. Oh, how she missed teasing him and playing with him. It was time she did so again.

“I da nae believe you,” she said.

He leaned back. “Excuse me?”

“You say that ye want me, but I see na evidence of it.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Words are wind, Your Grace. Action is proof, of which there has been none from what I can see.”

His brow furrowed as he looked at her, unsure at first, only to suddenly realize what she was doing. “Proof is it? That is what you require?”

“Unless ye are lying,” she said with an innocent shrug. “If ye are, well, I suppose that ye and I can always be friends—oh!”

His hands wrapped around her backside and lifted her suddenly. She wrapped her legs about him on instinct, her hands grabbing him by the shoulders so she would not fall backwards. But he was quick to put her down, resting her on top of the railing that skirted the balcony.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he growled.

“I never was very careful,” she breathed.

He was still holding her, his body pressed between her legs. Leaning back, his gaze worshipped her, licking his lips, eyes flashing with desire. “You have no idea how hard I have had to control myself.”

“Is that so?”

“Every minute of every day. You…” He groaned as his hands squeezed. “You still do not believe me?”

“As I said, ye are going to have to prove it.” Her heart was hammering. Her body was shaking. She looked over his shoulder, seeing that they were alone and hidden. Please let him… make him show me how much he wants me.

“Remember,” he said. “You asked for this.”

Making sure that she had her balance, her hands gripping the railing, the duke dropped to his knees suddenly.

She gasped in shock, her legs resting on his shoulders, her eyes widening as he lifted her dress without hesitation, his head disappearing beneath it.

A second passed… and then another… her mind left to wander as she tried to imagine what he was about to –

“Oh, God!” she cried out as she felt his mouth wrap itself around the lips found between her legs.

Last time, it had been his fingers that had pleasured her. This time, it was his mouth. His tongue, also. He devoured her womanhood with both, sucking and licking as if he was starved and this was the first time he had eaten in days. In a way, it almost is.

His tongue licked over her, diving inside and exploring.

His mouth latched onto the bundle of nerves at the top of her womanhood, sucking and slurping ravishingly.

Waves of pleasure rolled through her body, along her thighs, taking her so that her entire body spasmed and stiffened and quivered and shook.

Her hands grabbed the railings. Her legs squeezed his head.

And she did everything she could not to scream.

“I… I… I still do not… I still do nae believe ye,” she moaned, holding his head between her legs.

She heard him chuckle as his tongue began to work even faster.

“Yes…” she cried out, her entire body shaking. “Now… yes… there… oh God!”

It was a new experience for Margaret, but one she was sure not to forget. Soon, the duke found his rhythm, sucking her and licking to her breathing and the way her body moved. It started slowly, methodically, not too harsh, not too rushed, just right because she could feel it building.

Then he began to suck faster. A finger soon slipped inside of her, too.

It pressed against her walls, another spasm of pleasure rippling from within.

It pulsed up her body and touched her heart so that she could not breathe, not think, not move.

She was trapped, frozen solid, gritting her teeth and shutting her eyes as she accepted the pleasure which consumed her.

“More…” she demanded of him. “Please… more…”

He continued to devour her. He continued to use his fingers to press inside of her.

The speed built. The intensity mounted. She was an instrument, and he was playing her as if he was born to it.

So wonderful was he that soon she felt that same building sensation she had when he had pleasured her the last time.

It rose in her like a fire. It wrapped itself around her, smothering her, encasing her so that all she could do was hold on and wait for the explosion.

The duke did not slow down, for he seemed to be able to see it coming.

And when it arrived, was it not for the grip she had with her thighs around his head, she might have tumbled backwards and fallen.

“Ye -- yes!” she moaned as it hit her, careful not to scream. “Yes! Yes! God, yes!”

She leaned back and cried into the night, doing what she could to not be loud, certain she was failing miserably.

She almost wept, such was the intensity of the pleasure which took her.

Her body was set alight. Her mind shattered so that she could not think.

Nothing else seemed to matter but this moment right here and the pleasure that ravished her.

The last three days had been wonderful, and she did not deny it. But they were nothing compared to this. Three near perfect days, a perfect evening, and as the duke continued to lick and suck her, refusing to stop or slow down, Margaret could not help but wonder what might come next.

I dare not think things will get better, and yet… I am nothing if not greedy. But then again, so is the duke.