Page 28 of The Duke’s Indecent Scandal (Indecent Dukes #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

G regory

Something had happened between their carriage ride to Bolton House and this one. Something that had made his eager bride into a pensive one.

She had gone to the retiring room, and her mother had accompanied her… What had happened there between them? The Duchess of Bolton had sailed out several moments ahead of Tiffany, a wide smile on her face. Tiffany had followed, and, at the time, Gregory had not noticed anything amiss, but once they were alone in the carriage, she was not the same as she had been before. Instead of looking at him, her gaze was fixed out the window. Instead of quivering in breathless anticipation of what they might do in the carriage, she was trembling with nerves.

And she’d sat across from him rather than next to him.

Frowning inwardly, Gregory put a smile on his face and reached out his hand.

No, he was not imagining things. She hesitated before reaching back. And when their hands met, her fingers were stiff and cool against his.

“Come here,” he said, closing his fingers about hers and pulling her toward him. She let out a shriek as she was lifted from her seat by motion, the carriage rattling along and assisting him with the change of seating. Gregory easily caught her with his other hand, twisting her body so she was seated on his lap, very much the same way he had before. “What is wrong, little swan?”

One hand round her back, the other dropped her hand onto her lap so he could lay his own hand against her stomach and begin to move it upwards toward her breast. He felt, as much as heard, her trembling breath in response.

“I…” Her voice trailed off, her gaze averting from his, as if she could not look at him.

“Look at me, Tiffany,” he ordered. And it was an order, delivered in a tone of voice that he had not used with her before—in large part because he had not needed to. She was always so delightfully obliging, so easy to lead, it had not been required.

The order startled her, and she jerked her head up to meet his gaze, her eyes wide in surprise. Gregory knew he had that effect when he decided to take control of a situation or a woman. Many mistook his easygoing, charming nature to mean he was always that way. For a certain kind of woman, they were delighted when they discovered how incorrect their thinking was.

Gregory closed his hand around her breast, enjoying the way her pupils dilated, her lips dropping open in aroused shock. Whatever she was not telling him, it was difficult for her to put into words. Therefore, distracting her should help loosen her tongue.

“Tell me what is wrong, little swan.” Rather than a question, this time, he phrased the query as an order, his hand kneading her breast, throwing her off physically while he pushed her verbally.

“I… my mother…” She stumbled over her words, a hot blush flushing across her cheeks. “When we… when you…” She heaved in a deep breath, her breast swelling against his palm, and met his gaze head-on. “When we bed, will it hurt me?”

His hand stilled on her breast. Ah. Her mother must have told her something of what the marriage bed was like. Enough to make her worry. Gregory realized that not all women had pleasant experiences with their husbands. He’d certainly bedded enough unsatisfied married ladies to know the truth of that. None of them had gone into the details of what their wedding nights had been like, but he could extrapolate.

Still, he felt the assumption that he would be so inept, so incompetent, as a blow to his pride. He was a rake, after all. An experienced one. Not some stripling youth blundering through his first time with a doxy.

Though he had never bedded a virgin before.

When he felt Tiffany start to tense, he realized he had not yet answered her question.

Still caressing her breast through the fabric of her gown, he rubbed his thumb over the bump where her nipple was, enjoying the way she gasped, shuddering against him. His cock was already rising again, eager to show her just how much pleasure he could give her.

“I have heard that it can be painful for a woman her first time,” he admitted, not wanting to lie to her. “However, there are things one can do to ameliorate that pain. I have also heard that a great deal of horseback riding can mean that the lady experiences very little pain… do you ride much?”

“Yes.” She gasped as he shifted her on his lap, releasing her breast so he could use that hand to tug her skirts up until he could slide his hand beneath the layers and touch the silk stockings she was wearing. Her hands came up to grip his jacket, holding onto the lapels for dear life as she stared at him in astonished arousal.

Gregory grinned at her. “Then it might not hurt at all. There is also a very thin line between pleasure and pain, something I would like to show you eventually, but today is not that day.” His fingers moved higher on her leg, past the ribbons holding her stockings in place, and she gasped again as he touched soft, sensitive flesh. “Today, I am going to show you exactly how good I can make you feel.”

With that, he leaned down to capture her lips, tipping her back against the seat of the carriage just as his fingers found the soft, wet folds of her pussy. And she was wet, aroused by his touch.

No, he was quite sure he could make it so she felt almost no pain at all.

Tiffany

Oh, heavens…

Gregory was doing it to her again. Touching her in a manner that made thought and reason fly out of her head. The proprietary way he behaved with her body was both shocking and arousing, making her insides pulse, and when he touched her most private area, she felt as though she might melt back into the seat cushions of the carriage. In fact, she almost wanted to melt back into them, to forget… everything. To let Gregory take over and lead her where he wanted to go.

It was far more enjoyable than worrying about what her mother had said and why she’d said it.

Tiffany would much rather focus on what Gregory was doing to her. How he was touching her. How he was making her feel.

Even if it did hurt, even if there was pain, it might be worth it for the rest of this. For all the pleasure. Perhaps that was the tradeoff?

His fingers slid against her sensitive body, and Tiffany gasped against his mouth, the sound muffled by his lips, as she felt something actually slide inside of her. One long finger eased its way into her body, an utterly foreign feeling that was somehow both invasive and intimate. She felt him moving inside her, her body quivering around him, and his hand rocked against the sensitive spot he’d found before at the apex of her slippery folds, and Tiffany cried out.

The sensations were even more intense than when he’d put his mouth on her, leaving her trembling all over as the pleasure inside her tightened and began to whirl. His finger retreated, then pushed in again, thicker—joined by a second digit. The two pushed in deep, stretching her open as he kissed her, his tongue invading her mouth as thoroughly as he was invading her womanhood, the heel of his hand rocking against that sensitive spot as he stroked her from the inside.

Tiffany felt faint, as if there was not enough air in her lungs to breathe, and not only because he was kissing her breathless. She shuddered, gasping, her body clamping down around him as the pleasure swirled and grew. A sob rose in her throat as she teetered on the edge of ecstasy, then fell.

Gregory caught her. Held her through the tumult as she lost control of her wit and her body, the climax sending her soaring through the seas of passion while he anchored her to reality.

“Good girl,” he murmured, releasing her lips and pulling her upright again to cradle against him. His fingers were still inside of her, stroking gently until the swells of pleasure slowed along with her breathing, leaving her spent and panting on his lap. Only once the last paroxysms of her body had dissipated did he pull his fingers from her, sliding his hand out from beneath her skirt. Tiffany watched in horrified fascination as he lifted the glossy digits to his mouth, inserting them and cleaning her juices from them with his tongue. Catching her watching him, he winked at her, his dark eyes glittering devilishly.

Goodness.

The carriage came to a halt, leaving her even more flustered than before as she realized she was now going to have to get out of the intimate space and walk in front of people. Not just people. Gregory’s staff.

But there was no choice but to put on a stiff upper lip and bear it.

Obviously not as affected as her, Gregory exited the carriage first after the coachman opened the door for him, turning to help her down. She managed it, though her knees felt as though they might give any moment. The second her feet touched the ground, Gregory had a supportive arm about her waist, his other hand still holding hers across his body as he led her toward the house.

The door opened before they reached it, his butler obviously flustered, which was a feat. Tiffany stared in awe.

“Your Grace… Your Grace… we ah… the staff is not…” Paulson stammered, his eyes darting back and forth as though searching for an obvious solution.

“Do not fret. We are not ready to have the staff presented to us,” Gregory replied cheerfully.

Tiffany’s blush grew hotter as she realized what the problem was. As the new duchess, she would be expected to be formally introduced to the household, but as they had left the wedding breakfast early, the household was not ready to be introduced to her . She shrieked as Gregory suddenly let go of her hand and bent to sweep it under her legs, swinging her up into his arms.

“We left the breakfast precipitously. The household can meet her grace later.”

“Very good, Your Grace.” Paulson inclined his head, appearing torn between being scandalized and relieved.

“Oh God.” Tiffany buried her face in Gregory’s neck so she did not have to look anyone who might pass them in the eye.

The entire household was going to know what they were doing—and she did not even fully understand what they were going to be doing! But she knew that bedding in the middle of the day was not the done thing. The understairs gossip was going to be rife… which she supposed lent credence to their facade of a ‘love match’, but she felt fairly sure that was not Gregory’s aim. From his ground-eating stride through the house, he was wholly focused on his destination, which ended up being his bedroom.

Despite the pleasure he’d brought her to in the carriage, the uncertainty of the unknown was creeping up on her again.

He did not give her much time to feel uncertain. As soon as they’d entered his room, she barely managed to look around to catch a glimpse—enough to realize they were unquestionably in the ducal apartment and not hers—before he kicked the door shut behind him, and his lips found hers again.

Tiffany kissed him back with all the passion, all the uncertainty, all the leftover tremors of pleasure she had going through her. Even if it hurt, even if it did feel like she was being ripped apart, she would do it. Whatever it was.

For him.