Page 73 of How to Love a Duke in Ten Days

She had to.

Besides, he seemed so certain. So absolutely sure that he could bring her pleasure.

He already had, hadn’t he? With gentle kisses and patient caresses, he’d already dissolved some of her frigid distance. He’d already taught her something about need.

And perhaps desire.

Because she wanted to kiss him again.

“Yes, husband,” she exhaled. “Yes.”

His first kiss was just a whisper. A chaste press of his warm, dry lips against hers. He did that for a moment, putting her at ease, vanquishing her defenses. It was only after her blood ceased its riotous pulsing that Alexandra noticed his lips were behaving so eminently civilized, while his hands, however, were anything but.

Her nightgown slipped down one of her bare shoulders before she realized with no little alarm that he’d expertly undone the entire placket of buttons.

“Can we douse the lights?” she asked.

His gaze lingered at the line of her collar. Had his expression graced features any less savagely masculine than his, she’d have called it a pout. “I want to see you.”

Alexandra chewed her lip. She had to go through with this, but she had no idea how she’d react. What if terror seized her? What if she wept?

What if the sight of his aroused…sexoverwhelmed her, and she fainted? It would be better, easier, if she only had a few senses activated at a time.

“I—I don’t… I’m not ready.”

A shadow darkened his gaze before he carefully wiped it away. He released her to reach for the lamp, his hand slipping over his beard, to brush his scars, before he plunged the room in darkness.

To reward him for his patience, Alexandra undid the rest of the buttons on her nightgown, allowing it to slide from her shoulders into a puddle beneath her.

How strange that she felt better like this. Naked. Exposed.

All right,she thought, anxious to begin. To be done.

For better or worse.

She reached for him, finding his shoulder first. Wordlessly, she dragged her fingers over the fine fabric of his black suit until she found the lapels.

He made to reach for her, but she slid the jacket from his shoulders, imprisoning his arms to his sides until he shucked the garment altogether. Next, he assisted her in gathering his shirt from his waist, the buttons plinking against the carpet evidence of his haste.

Shivering, she found his shape as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness. She caught his forearms as he was searching, and held them, caressing down to his wrists.

It was easier like this, she thought. Grateful that heallowed her to control where she placed his hands, to decide where and when he touched her.

She shivered to her bones, despite the balmy summer night, as she placed his palms on her bare waist.

He distracted her mouth with long drags of his lips as his thumbs stroked the thin, satiny undercurve of her breasts. A moan vibrated against her as he cupped them, testing their weight in his palms.

“You hide these,” he chided softly. “Beneath that wrap of yours.”

“I—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m simply acknowledging another delightful discovery.” He rested the distended nipple between the seam of his fingers, exerting gentle pressure.

The sensation of her cool, naked breast against the heat of his palm stunned her, overwhelmed her, and she flinched away.

No one had touched her there before. But the hungry looks they’d elicited in men had repulsed her.

So she’d wrapped them, hiding them from view.