Page 17 of The Duke’s Only Desire (The Dukes of Darkness #3)

S ophie sank her fingers into his hair as he wrapped his arms around her legs to press her close and buried his face in her belly through the billowing night rail.

Her heart leapt into her throat. She didn’t dare let herself believe that he was here and not merely another dream. That the marriage she thought had slipped through her fingers could be saved.

“You are exquisite,” he told her. “Not just your body, but your laughter, your intellect, your devotion to the people you care about…”

Slowly, he lifted the hem of her night rail up her legs, baring her both to the cool air and to his heated gaze. The fabric gathered at her hips and barely hid her nakedness.

“You’re an angel,” he mumbled against her belly, his warm breath seeping through her gown and into her flesh beneath.

“Shay…” His name was a pained whisper.

Pushing the gown up to her waist, he lowered his head to nuzzle the patch of feminine curls between her thighs.

Sophie caught her breath as a tingling need thudded between her legs, right below his lips. She ran her fingers through his hair in encouragement. Love me…Please, Shay, love me as much as I love you…

He ran his large hands slowly up and down the backs of her thighs as he began to place soft kisses into her curls, only to slide them to her front and up her inner thighs. His thumbs stroked into the smooth skin and worked their way higher, and with every gentle caress, the need inside her throbbed harder. When his thumbs reached the folds hidden beneath her curls, electricity hummed through her, and her heart pounded so fiercely that she was afraid he could feel it.

Then his mouth lowered to bring his lips against her bare folds.

The feeling was simply exquisite! Each caress of his lips against her was unbearably soft, each gentle kiss a feathery touch. She closed her eyes to absorb every detail of the intimate kisses he was giving her. Even as his lips continued to tease her outer folds, his thumbs delved deeper, stroking and parting the delicate petals. Then his lips followed after, his tongue sliding—

“Shay!” Her hands grabbed at his hard shoulders to steady herself.

She felt his answering chuckle vibrate against her, but he didn’t stop. His tongue continued to flicker over her the way his lips had. And more—each wanton lick ventured deeper into her folds, and Sophie knew he was doing far more than simply kissing her: he was exploring her, claiming her…

No, he was simply worshipping her, and any thought she still possessed that he didn’t want her vanished like morning fog beneath the dawn.

When she rolled back her head in surrender and stepped her feet apart, he did more than just explore. His kisses turned plundering, with his tongue thrusting hard and deep into the hollow at her core, his lips taking large mouthfuls, his thumbs still stroking persistently against her, still spreading her beneath his mouth.

“That’s…that’s…” A moan rose on her lips. What he was doing to her was a wicked torture. “ Wonderful .”

She felt him smile against her, and for a moment, she feared he took her compliment as a challenge as he lifted his mouth from her, took her right leg, and hooked it over his shoulder until she was spread wide before him. His eyes turned nearly black with desire as he watched his fingers circle her outer folds and grow slick with her wetness, then he lowered his head again. This time, his lips folded over a small nub exposed by the spread of her thighs and sucked.

The gasp that tore from her ripped her breath away, and her fingertips dug into his hard shoulders. But it wasn’t enough.

“Please…” she panted out, barely audible against the shadows around them. Please love me! Give yourself to me, now and forever. “Oh, please…”

Then his lips closed around the throbbing, aching point and sucked hard.

“Oh!” Her hips bucked against him, and her hands grabbed for his head to press him harder against her as electric jolts of aching need sparked through her. She rose up onto her tiptoes to bring herself up beneath his wicked mouth and begged senselessly for him to do it again, to throw her over the edge into bliss.

When he obliged, a cry ripped from her throat as sheer pleasure overwhelmed her. Her thighs tried to slam shut against the pulsating ache pounding away inside her, only to be stopped by his wide shoulders that kept her spread open wide. No more sucking now, but possessive kisses and licks that drew out her pleasure until residual waves lapped at her toes, until liquid heat lingered in her suddenly heavy limbs and tingled her fingers and toes. She sagged bonelessly over him, and only then did she realize that she was still begging in throaty whispers for more.

He rose to his feet, and as he stood, he peeled the night rail up her body and off, leaving her hot flesh exposed to the cool air and soft shadows. But she simply didn’t care that he was seeing her naked for the first time, too swept up in the consuming pleasure he’d just given her.

He gathered her into his arms and carried her into her room, to place her gently onto the bed.

When he released her and straightened to move away, a desperate cry rose from her lips, and she tightened her arms around his shoulders. No! She refused to let him leave her. Not tonight. But all she could manage was a trembling, “Stay.”

He stilled, hovering over her, his mouth close enough to hers that his warm breath tickled her lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Then he sealed that promise with a kiss so heated that she answered with a whimper and arched up off the bed beneath him. He murmured soothing words and stroked his hand along her side as if comforting a skittish colt, yet she couldn’t help but worry when he slipped away from her.

But he didn’t leave. Instead, he moved back just far enough to strip away his trousers, the remaining barrier of clothing between them. He stood naked at the side of the bed, and this time, her eyes stung as she stared at him, because this time, he wasn’t hiding from her.

An embarrassed heat flushed her cheeks as she shamelessly moved her eyes over him, taking in every glorious inch of him. She could see now the full extent of the scars, how they extended from his face down across both shoulders and chest, how they must have continued onto his back as well, before finally disappearing midway down his right thigh. She could see how the right side of his body had taken the brunt of the burns, how the flames had colored his skin in a grisly tattoo.

And she didn’t care. He was still magnificent, despite the scars. No, because of them. His hard muscles were sculpted like one of Lord Elgin’s gods, but unlike those statues, his skin wasn’t marble smooth but wonderfully rippled, and he was warm and alive. And he was all hers. Finally.

“Now you know what I look like,” he told her quietly. “If you’ve changed your mind, I won’t—”

“Never.”

A devilish glint of pleasure danced in his eyes. “Like what you see, then? All of it?” he teased. His innuendo caused the scarlet heat in her face to deepen.

She gestured a hand at her own naked body. “Do you like what you see?”

He took the invitation and raked a burning gaze over her. “ All of it,” he wickedly repeated. “You’re stunning.”

“So are you.”

He clenched his jaw and looked away as he muttered, “I’m a scarred monster.”

“Perhaps.” She rose up onto her knees to bring her eyes level with his, wanting no misunderstanding on this point. “But you’re my monster.”

She placed her lips to his scarred chest and once again left a series of openmouthed kisses across his rough skin, to show him with her body how much she wanted him. He trembled beneath her lips, which only encouraged her more, until she was tracing the rough ridges of the scars with the tip of her tongue. The spicy taste of him filled her senses and emboldened her, and she rested a hand on his hip for balance as she tentatively brushed her other hand down his front. His hard length jutted up temptingly, and she couldn’t help but touch him.

He jumped when her fingertips brushed against him, sucking in a mouthful of air as if she’d hurt him. She pulled back.

His hand clamped over her wrist, and he paused to take a deep breath before bringing her hand back to him. Every muscle in his body seemed to stiffen as he guided her in slowly stroking her fingertips along his length.

“But it hurts you,” she whispered with concern.

“It hurts good,” he corrected and closed his eyes with a low groan, releasing her wrist to let her explore on her own.

She did just that, brushing her fingertips in feather light caresses up and down his length, only to grow bolder, until she folded her hand around him to hold him against her palm and stroke. Her other hand came up to cup his testicles and gently squeeze the heavy orbs. A slow tremor built within him, and he rested his hands on her shoulders, his hands flexing and curling like a cat who enjoyed being petted. And if he enjoyed this, then he might also enjoy…

With a quick breath to steel her daring, she lowered her head to brush her lips against his round tip—

“No,” he croaked out and grabbed her shoulders to stop her. “Not that.”

She gazed up the length of his body at him. “Why not? Won’t you like it?” When his answering groan left her as confused as before, she arched a brow. “You did it to me.”

“I know. But if you do that to me,” he warned as he gently lowered her onto her back on the mattress and followed down after, “this night will be over before it begins.” When she frowned, puzzled, he placed a kiss to her temple. “And I want it to be perfect for you.”

“It already is,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him down to her, then allowed him to part her legs with his knee until he settled his hips into the cradle of thighs.

His hand reached between them to touch her at her core where his mouth had given her such exquisite pleasures, and he murmured, a mix of pleasure and surprise, “You’re still wet.”

She knew what men and women did in marriage beds—Hannah Danvies had told her everything she’d needed to know about what parts went where, what to expect when they did, how her body would react…except that . “I’m sorry.” Embarrassment heated through her. “I didn’t mean to—”

He silenced her with a kiss. “That a good thing,” he murmured against her lips. “It means I can more easily do this.”

Before she could ask what he meant, his finger slid inside her and began to stroke into her tight warmth. The sensation was wonderful, and a low ache began to throb inside her once more, just beyond the sinking swirl of his fingertips.

“And this.” A second finger joined the first and spread her wider, not pausing in his delicious rhythm of thrusts and retreats.

She buried her face against his shoulder to keep back a whimper of pleasure. A ball of need gathered at his fingertips as he plunged, swirled, and teasingly retreated.

“And this,” he repeated, yet this time his voice sounded oddly pained as he slipped his fingers from her and an unfamiliar hardness pressed against her core, round and large.

“Shay, what—”

He lowered his hips and sank inside her.

She gasped at this new invasion as her body was spread wide to accommodate him. A slight burning followed, and Sophie held her breath, her body tensing around his even as it gripped tightly around him.

He lay perfectly still over her, his weight supported on his forearms as her body adjusted to having him inside her. Good heavens, if she’d thought he’d filled her before—oh, not like this! This was being stretched uncomfortably wide and tight, a bit painful even, but she wouldn’t stop him now. This was how babies were made, and she wanted nothing more than to bear his children. So she shifted her hips beneath him in search of a more comfortable position.

Taking her little wiggle as an invitation, he began to move. His hips rose and fell as he slid his hard length inside her the same way he had his fingers, with deep plunges and teasing retreats. Only now, his plunges went so much deeper, his retreats sliding back until he almost slipped out of her before lowering himself into her again with a swirl of his hips. The uncomfortable tightness faded with each smooth glide, replaced by a gathering warmth down in her core, and she relaxed beneath him with a soft sigh.

His movements increased in intensity and speed, coming faster and harder, yet tears formed at her lashes from how tender and affectionate he was despite that, how he carefully kept his weight from crushing her even as his body shook with warring restraint and need. Sophie tightened her hold on him and lifted her hips from the mattress to meet each delicious thrust of his body into hers, each one deeper than before, until she was certain he was trying to crawl beneath her skin and never leave. Oh, she would have let him do just that!

“Sophie,” he murmured, her name a desperate plea.

“Yes,” she answered between breathless pants. “Anything, Shay…anything you want…”

“I want you.”

Before she could challenge that by stating he obviously already had her, he leaned his weight on his left forearm and slipped his right hand between them, down to where their two bodies joined. The smooth movements of his hips never stopped even as he rubbed his fingers against that throbbing little nub at the top of her folds where a relentless ache threatened to consume her.

“Shay!” Her hips bucked, and he drove himself deeper, grinding his pelvis against the sensitive nub. A second spasm gripped her—

She cried out as her body bore down around his, the tiny muscles inside her clenching around his still-hard length and her legs squeezing around his waist like a vise. Release overwhelmed her, leaving a tingling, pulsating pleasure in its wake, and she collapsed limply against the mattress. She could do nothing more than absorb the rush of joy that seized her as stars flashed before her eyes and as she struggled to gain back the breath he’d stolen.

Shay laced his fingers through hers and pinned both her arms over her head. His body rocked hard against hers now, his length buried deep within her, and she could feel his intense shaking reverberate through her, like a stir of echoes roiling wildly within her. God help her, her body tightened again like a coil around his, once more desperate to spring loose into bliss, and her plaintive whimper begged him for just that.

He buried himself inside her tight warmth to the hilt, then held himself there as a low groan rose from his throat. She felt him jerk inside her, and a spurting rush of liquid filled her with a tingling warmth. His buttocks tightened as he strained to empty every drop of himself inside her.

Sophie cried out again as a second rush of joy swept over her, even more powerful than the first. She shivered heatedly as the ache at her core that had been beating in time with her heart flamed pleasure through her, curling her toes and digging her fingertips deeply into his shoulders. Then sweet release gripped her, and her body loosened around his, utterly spent.

Shay collapsed onto the mattress beside her and moved only to gather her against him. She nestled against him, not wanting to let go. Her senses filled with the musky scent of making love, her skin sticky with perspiration and red with exertion, her hair in a tangled mess around her shoulders, and wet evidence of their love dripped between her legs. And she wasn’t embarrassed by any of it. He was her husband, and she was finally his wife in every way. She would never regret nor ever be ashamed of any pleasures they shared.

And nothing about her life would ever be the same again.