Page 42 of The Duke of Ruin

Olive watched him from beneath her lashes, feeling suddenly shy. Her husband lifted his shirt above his head to reveal a toned, muscular stomach like a washboard and a chest that was thick with dark curls. She sat up and hesitantly reached a hand out to touch his chest. The skin on skin contact made her husband pause, and he placed his hand over hers,just above his heart. "I love you," he said simply, pressing her hand close to his flesh so that she could hear his heartbeat.

"And I you," Olive whispered, for the love she felt for him had pierced through her on the cliffs, when she thought that Lavelle would shoot him. She had never felt so strongly for anyone, as she did for the Duke, and the thought made her a little nervous. Her feelings were obviously displayed on her face, for Ruan stroked her cheek softly; "Are you certain that you're ready?"

Despite the passion which burned in his eyes, Olive knew that if she told her husband that she was not ready yet, that he would stop. The only thing was, she didn't want him to. As she nodded her head, he dropped his lips to hers and kissed her gently. The soft feel of his skin, contrasting the hardness of the muscles beneath, left her dizzy and light headed. With assured hands her husband began to undress her, working the buttons of her dress as though he was a trained ladies maid and not a Duke.

"You're rather adept at that," Olive commented, feigning humour to hide her nerves.

"There's a lot of things I'm very good at," her husband replied, his mouth quirking with amusement. His hands lifted her dress over her head, and soon she was lying naked beneath him. Any fear or trepidation that she might have felt, was soon swept away on a tide of pleasure. Her husband was a skilled love-maker, and though at first it hurt slightly, soon she became used to the feel of him. Within minutes she was breathless, as waves of pleasure--that she had not known were possible--washed over her. Sensing that she was spent the Duke finished with a low groan, collapsing on top of her and cradling her in his arms.

"That was rather good," she whispered to him across the pillow, when a few minutes of breathless silence had passed. She could not believe that the beautiful man lying next to her was her husband, and that she would wake up the next morning --and every morning-- to the wondrous sight of him.

"Rather good?" Ruan huffed, evidently displeased with her choice of words. "I obviously wasn't doing my job properly if it was only rather good."

"It can get better?" Olive glanced at him innocently, knowing that he would rise to the bait of her teasing.

"A hundred times better," Ruan said, his face filled with need as he pinned her beneath his strong forearms. "I'm afraid you'll have to get used to this Olive."

"Used to what?" she asked, reaching up with her hand and smoothing the lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes.

"To being in my bed," her husband replied, with a smile that could only be described as pure wicked. "For I won't be letting you leave it for quite some time."