Page 24 of The Duke’s Lance (The Duke’s Guard #12)

O ’Malley reveled in his wife’s reaction to his kiss. Lord, she was a delight—but she had darkness trapped inside of her from what that bloody bugger had done to her and Emily. In his heart, he whispered a prayer of thanks that Aiden and Masterson had arrived in time to save the women from a lifetime of nightmares.

He ran the tip of his finger along the curve of her eyebrow. “While ye think of something else he threatened, will ye let me show ye the way a man who is aching to make love to his wife on their wedding night would caress yer bountiful breasts?”

Her eyes widened, but she did not refuse. She nodded.

“Ye’re so brave, lass.” He moved onto his side so he could watch her reaction to his touch. “Remember now, if something doesn’t please ye, just tell me. I’ve many, many ways to touch—and taste—ye, lass.”

Her mouth opened, but when nothing but a squeak came out, Helen closed her eyes.

“I take it that was yer surprised sound. Not yer frightened sound.”

She opened one eye and glared at him. Talented lass .

He swallowed his laughter. “Now then, where was I—ah, yes. I’ll start here, so you get accustomed to the weight of me hand upon yer shoulder. Ye’ve strong shoulders that have carried too many burdens. I aim to share them with ye from this moment forward.”

Her faery eyes had a dreamy expression in them.

“I’m going to use the palm of me hand to memorize the curve of yer shoulder and shape of yer arm.” When she nodded, he gently matched his touch to his words. “Now then, I’m needing to touch the line of yer collarbone, but me hand is too large—I’m thinking two fingertips will do.” She nodded, and he began to follow the outline of the bone until he reached the hollow of her throat. “I’m thinking I’ll expire if I don’t use the tip of me tongue to taste yer flavor right there, where I see yer pulse starting to beat like mad. Will ye let me?”

“Yes.”

He dipped his head and skillfully swept the tip of his tongue into the hollow and onto the bones on either side of that dip. “Ye taste of lavender, lass…not roses.”

“I brought dried rose petals with me in my baggage, but whoever has my portmanteau and all it contained is welcome to it. I hope its contents ease their burden.”

He lowered his lips to a breath above hers. “Ye have a brave and giving heart. Kiss me, lass. I do not want ye to be thinking of luggage and rose petals when I have me beautiful wife lying beside me, letting me accustom meself to the flavor and texture of her silken skin.”

Helen slid her hand to the back of his neck and added a bit of pressure, telling him without words that she wanted to kiss him. He was soon lost in the revelation that the lass remembered how to kiss him back. When the strap of her chemise slid off her shoulder, he pressed his lips there, then eased back. “Forgive me for not asking yer permission first.”

“That felt wonderful.”

“Will he let me taste ye from yer collarbone down to the tops of yer beautiful breasts?”

She shivered, but nodded.

He eased back and frowned. “I’m sorry, but I can’t reach ye there unless we remove yer chemise. Will ye let me?”

Helen bit her lip and drove him so close to the edge of reason that he felt himself pulsing against her belly. Her eyes shot to his.

“There are some things I cannot control. What I can control is not taking what ye have yet to offer me, mo ghrá . Until ye do, I’ll be keeping me trousers on.”

The tension left her. “Could you help me take my chemise off?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “That I can, after we strike a bargain, lass.”

“Depends on the bargain.”

He laughed and kissed her full on the lips. “What I’m thinking is that unless ye have a sharp weapon in yer hands, I can kiss yer face, yer mouth, yer head, and yer hands.”

She seemed to be thinking about it, then said, “If you add my throat, the nape of my neck, my collarbone, and my shoulders, I will agree to that.”

“I’ll be careful and kiss above the bandage around yer throat, and below it.” He did that and more, kissing every single part of her that he’d listed—and those parts she’d added. She moaned his name the second time he nibbled beneath her chin, before trailing his lips to the edge of her bandage and back again, kissing her lavishly.

“You nibbled me.”

“Ye’re delicious.”

“Are you?”

“’Tis a fair question—rather bold, but we’ll let that pass. Why don’t ye pick the part ye wish to sample and go for it.”

“Anywhere?”

His gut clenched, and his shaft throbbed.

She stared at the placket of his trousers and gasped. “How do you do that?”

“’Tis the same answer as before—some things I can control, some I cannot.”

She slowly nodded. “Do I need to ask you before I kiss you?”

“Nay, lass. I already have knots of anticipation in me gut from waiting for ye to decide where to kiss. God in Heaven, kiss me, lick me, bite me. Any or all will do—just please put me out of me misery.”

“I’m so sorry, Eamon. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“The only way you’ll hurt me is if you do not touch me, or if ye turn away from me.”

She leaned down and trailed the tip of her tongue along his collarbone, and nibbled on his neck before fusing her mouth to his.

When she ended the kiss, his head was spinning, and his heart beat double time. “Ye’re going to kill me, lass.”

“Don’t you want to know what you taste like?”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “If ye’re needing to tell me, I’ll listen.”

“Your taste matches your scent—rain-washed air with a hint of leather.”

O’Malley chuckled. “Have ye been in the stables licking saddles again?” Her laughter warmed his heart. “Is there anywhere else you’d care to sample?”

“After you help me take this off.”

“Ah, yes. Ye distracted me. Watch that ye don’t use that arm.” He happily divested her of the chemise and indulged himself in the bounty that lay before him. He could not wait to sample, with his lips and tongue, but it was still her turn. “Now then, would ye like me to roll over so ye can sample me back?”

“I’m still considering it, but if you could turn over, that may help me decide.”

“Don’t take too long—I’ve yet to prepare ye for me loving, lass. That takes time and patience, so I’ll be certain ye experience as little pain as possible.” He rolled over and was shocked when the lass trailed her tongue from the nape of his neck to the waistband of his trousers. Then she licked a path parallel to his waistband. He moaned again, his passion flaring bright and strong. He ordered himself to relax, but his muscles twitched, and he had to bite back what he wanted to ask the lass. She wasn’t ready for him, but he was going to explode if he didn’t bury himself deep inside of her now!

Helen ran her palms from his shoulders to his wrists and back again, then from the nape of his neck to his waistband, lingering there.

“Lass, I won’t beg ye, but if ye’re thinking ye’ve had enough for the night, I need to cover ye up, tuck ye in, and go soak me head in the horse trough.”

“Without making love to me?”

“If I must. Me control has been tested to the limit.”

He’d started to rise from the bed when Helen reached out and grabbed hold of his waistband. “I am sorry if I have disappointed you.”

“God, lass, ye damn near killed me with yer innocent touches, sampling me flesh. And yer flavor is one I will dream of until ye let me taste ye again. We’ll be leaving in the morning, so there won’t be time for us to lie abed as we have tonight until we arrive at Wyndmere Hall.”

She frowned. “When was this decided?”

“Earlier today. I did not have the chance to discuss it with ye. ’Tisn’t safe for the baron and baroness for us to remain here with the prisoners, but I did not want ye to marry me with only strangers in attendance, when me brother and more of me cousins were a few hours away.”

“I understand, Eamon.”

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, and the lass giggled. “What has ye laughing?”

“Look at our feet.”

He ran his hand along the length of her stocking-clad leg. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to familiarize meself with yer lovely legs.” He stopped abruptly at her ankle, and he chuckled. “Left yer slippers on, did we?”

“And your boots, too.”

He moved to the edge of the bed and removed his boots and socks. “May I help ye with yer slippers?”

“Yes, please. Do you still plan to head to the stables to soak your head in your bare feet?”

He laughed.

“I do understand if you do not want to help me remove my stockings.”

“Well now, I’m thinking I like the look of ye wearing only yer stockings.” He removed her slippers and set them on the floor by the chair where he’d placed her gown. “If we were going to make love, the feel of them wrapped around me waist would drive me right over the edge.”

“Edge of what?”

“Reason.”

She stared up at him and tilted her head, considering his words. “Why would I wrap my legs around you?”

“To take me in as deep as I can go from the first position I’ll be teaching ye.”

“Is there more than one?”

“Aye. Ye’ll be a delight to tutor, lass, but for tonight, I’ve taken all I can without begging ye.”

She sat up, and her ebony hair rained down her back, tempting him to touch. He gave in and ran his hands through the silken strands.

Kneeling on the bed, she held out her hand. “Make love to me, Eamon. You’ve been so careful and patient with me. Seal our vows tonight, please?”

He undid the placket to his trousers and shed them. Moving to the bed, he took her hand in his, pulling her closer. He straddled her and rasped, “Wrap yer legs around me, lass.” She did as he asked. He pressed against her core and paused, marveling at the pulsing heat of her. “Do ye feel that?”

Helen gasped. “You are so hard.”

“I ache for ye, lass, but I’m not going to make love to ye until ye’re writhing in me arms, ready to welcome me into yer hot, wet passage.” He slid his hands to her backside and gently kneaded her curves. “Everywhere I touch ye is like a gift.” He laid her back on the bed and asked, “Are you certain ye do not want to wait?”

“Kiss me, Eamon.”

He was like a man possessed—a man on a mission. That mission being to drive his wife to the brink of sanity until she cried out, begging him to end the madness.

He caressed her where he knew she ached for his touch. She was soon mindless to everything except his touch, and his words of encouragement, as he drove her closer to the edge. She was so close to finding her release.

He whispered words of encouragement as he told her how he would manipulate her, stretch her, so she would be able to accept the length and breadth of him. Words melted into moans, moans into groans.

“Open yer eyes, mo chroí .”

Her lashes fluttered, and her violet eyes locked on to his.

“I’ll love ye for the rest of me life, will ye love me back?”

“Yes! I will love you for the rest of my life, mo ghrá .”

He entered her slowly, kissing her neck, her mouth, and her breasts while her body pulsed around him, accepted him.

They moved together as if they’d been lovers for years. He felt her getting ready to soar, and suckled her breasts until she tightened around him and screamed his name. He drove into her again and again until he could not hold out any longer. With one last thrust, he shouted her name. Filling her to the hilt, he released his life-giving seed. Her hand slid from where she’d clenched his backside, and her breathing slowed. He could not have ever imagined that making love to her would rob him of his strength like this.

He settled her against his heart and rolled on his side, ensuring that her injured wrist was not pinned between them. He would have to see that she continued to use the sling and rest that arm.

O’Malley had started to list the things he would do with the sunrise when she shifted and her mouth brushed his chest, relaxing him to the point where he dozed.

He blinked, glad he had not fallen asleep. He had one more task to attend to.

When he untangled their legs, he had to smile at the way the lass wrinkled her nose. He rose from the bed. The pitcher of water was no longer hot, but room temperature. Better than ice cold. He poured some in the bowl, dipped the soft cotton cloth beside it into the water, wrung it out, and carried it over to the bed where his wife lay.

He bent over her and kissed her until she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Is it morning already?” she asked.

“Nay, lass, but I have a husbandly duty to perform, and ye’ll not argue with me.”

“It must be something that I am not going to like, isn’t it?”

“Ye’ll likely be tender, and it may sting, but I need to wash ye, lass.”

Her frown was fierce. “Are you suggesting I let you wash me intimately ?”

“Aye—as I’m the one who took yer innocence, I’m the one who will tend to ye.”

Helen blew out a breath, “Do I have a choice?”

“Aye, ye can close yer eyes, or leave them open.”

Her eyes locked on his, and she hissed when he gently washed her.

“I don’t mean to hurt ye, lass, but I don’t want to cause ye harm by not washing ye and making sure that I haven’t done any serious damage to ye.”

“Wouldn’t I have felt it if you had?”

“That depends—sometimes, when one is in the throes of passion, ye don’t always notice an ache until after the euphoria passes.”

“I see.”

“All finished, love.” He got up, rinsed the cloth, and hung it over the rim of the bowl to dry, then walked back over to her. “Are ye wanting to sleep in yer chemise?”

She smiled and reached for his hand. “I’d rather have you wrapped around me.”

He slipped into bed and settled her back against his chest, biting the inside of his mouth to keep from moaning when she wiggled to find just the right spot. When he was about to tell her to stop tormenting him, he heard her breathing slow and knew she’d fallen asleep.

Wrapped around his wife, protecting her, O’Malley finally let himself drift off.