Page 53 of The Duke’s Scottish Bride (Scottish Duchesses #3)

Chapter Forty-Four

A nselm stepped forward then. He was not finished.

“Furthermore,” Anselm announced, “I have purchased all of Strathcairn’s estates. Every acre now belongs to me.”

He allowed himself a brief, triumphant smile.

His gaze hardened and settled on Lord Harlowe with an intensity that promised pain.

“You two are to leave this country. Now. And let me be clear. You will never set foot in England or Scotland ever again. If you do,” Anselm said as he took another deliberate step forward, his voice a menacing growl, “I will remove you myself. Forcefully.”

“I do not care who you are, you cannot do this—” Lord Harlowe cried, as he finally found his voice, which was no more than a strangled shout of outrage.

Anselm silenced him with a single, scorching look. With another step, he closed the distance between them and bared his teeth.

Immediately, Lord Harlowe cowered.

“Very well, we will be gone at once. We will see to our affairs, and set sail for Portugal,” Lord Harlowe said as he slunk back.

Mr. Lewis arrived then, as if on cue, with the meager luggage they had brought for an overnight stay to usher them out.

“We can find our own bloody way out,” Lord Harlowe cried as he dragged Lady Harlowe out of the room.

They snatched their bags from Mr. Lewis and practically ran out of Greystead.

“Oh, thank heavens, we are alone now,” Marion whispered as she kissed Anselm’s cheek. “I cannae believe all ye have done for me. How did ye not tell me about the buying Strathcairn?”

“I wanted your aunt and uncle to hear it, for them to serve as witnesses. There is nothing I would not do for you, my beautiful lass.”

“I like the way ye call me lass,” she said she planted a small kiss on his lips then. “Aye, I think me faither would have been most proud of ye for this… and happy to call ye his son-in-law.”

“I cannot tell you how much that means to me, or how much it pains me that I will never be able to meet him or your mother. It is my hope… that perhaps I can meet them in a way through our future children. Maybe they will have the same love for Scotland and zest for life you have told me so much about.”

“Oh, Anselm,” Marion said. There were tears in her eyes as she looked down to the floor. “I do not deserve all this.”

Anselm took her chin in his hand and pulled it up so he might kiss her softly.

“You deserve the world, my tempest.”

“Oh, Anselm,” Marion cooed again as she placed her head on his shoulder. She stood on her toes and kissed the lobe of his ear softly.

“If you want it, I will conquer it for you.”

He took her chin again in his hand and brought her mouth to his. He kissed her softly at first. He let his lips explore hers, savoring each sensation as he breathed in her floral lavender scent, letting her wash over him like the sea. How he wished he could bathe in her.

Before he realized what he was doing, his hands were roaming up and down her body. He traced the shape of her dress, finally settling on the top of the gown and her generous bosom that poked out of her corset.

“You should know better than to put yourself on display like this,” Anselm said as he kissed the crests of her breasts. “I cannot help myself. Do you want to feel how badly I need you? How much my body craves yours?”

He pulled away for a moment to watch her nod. He grabbed a delicate wrist and placed her hand on the crotch of his trousers.

“Oh my, Anselm,” Marion said as she stroked the length of him through his pants, feeling the hardness of his attraction. “Ye feel so good, darlin’.”

“I think we need to move this out of the drawing room,” he moaned as he placed his hand over hers, allowing one more stroke of her hand before removing it. “Let us be quick about it. To our quarters.”

“Excuse me, Your Graces,” Mr. Lewis announced as he entered the room. “Dinner is ready to be served in the main hall.”

“Ahem,” Anselm said as he began to feign a cough and doubled over.

“Are you quite all right, Your Grace?”

“Ahh, erm… yes, we—I mean he , is fine, Mr. Lewis,” Marion said as she covered Anselm with her body. “But I do think it best if ye could bring trays of tonight’s meal to His Grace’s quarters. And please let Lady Verity ken that we are…indisposed this evenin’.”

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Lewis said, realization visible in his eyes as he looked between them. “Of course, and I will not rush in its delivery. I will have it brought up say, in the next hour?”

“Ye had better make it two. I want to be sure His Grace has proper time to…rest,” Marion said while suppressing a giggle.

“Of course, Your Grace,” he said before making a swift exit.

“It took everythin’ I had not to burst out laughin’,” Marion said as she took Anselm’s hands in hers. “Shall we make a run for it?”

“Get over here, you saucy Scot,” Anselm said as he tossed her over his shoulder effortlessly. Then he carried her out of the drawing room and up the stairs to his room.

He threw Marion playfully onto the lush bed. It was freshly made with new bedding. Rich green fabric had embroidered flowers on it. She ran her cheek along the material, inhaling the subtle notes of him.

“Well, as you can see… I am clearly still in wanting of you, my wife,” Anselm said as he dropped the last of his undergarments.

Marion sat up on the bed and propped herself up onto her elbows to look at him.

Aye, this man is a SIGHT to behold. I still daenae understand how I can take all that…manliness.

“I need you. Now.”

He walked over. He was deliberate and she was wanton. She needed him as badly as he did of her, if not more. The insides of her throbbed with a painful want, as if she would ache for all eternity if he did not put himself inside of her.

“We must do something about these clothes,” he said as he spun her onto her stomach.

He began undoing the fastening of her corset with expert movements. His efforts were quick and efficient but not harsh or sharp. Once it was loosened, he pulled it off and spun her around to begin work on the rest of her garments. She was undressed in less than two minutes.

“If ye decide ye no longer wish to be a duke, ye should consider work as a lady’s maid,” Marion joked as she rose to her knees. “I havenae seen such fast work before.”

“They lack the appropriate motivation,” Anselm said as Marion watched his eyes rove over her curves.

He pushed her down onto her back and began kissing her neck, before moving to work her full and aching breasts.

Her nipples practically begged for his mouth and the nip of his teeth.

He answered the call, working her breasts with his large hands, taking playful bites of her soft buds until she began to cry out his name.

“Oh Anselm,” she moaned and then she saw him sit up.

Her breath came in ragged, shallow bursts as she drank him in—so hard, so ready for her, his body tight with restraint. Heat surged through her as she realized just how much power she held in this moment.

Without thinking, she reached for him, wrapping her fingers around the thick length of him, feeling the heat and weight of him in her palm. He let out a sharp breath, his head falling back slightly.

“I want to taste ye,” she said softly, surprising even herself with the boldness of the words.

His gaze snapped to hers, green eyes dark with something primal—but also with surprise and something dangerously close to reverence.

“Are you certain?” he rasped, his voice rough and low, barely controlled.

She gave a small, deliberate smile, her thumb gliding over the sensitive tip as he shuddered under her touch. “Aye. I want to.”

Whatever restraint he had left vanished in the flare of his gaze, but he didn’t move—not this time. He let her take the lead.

So, she guided him on the bed, letting him lie on his back as she slowly leaned forward, her lips brushing against him as she tasted him for the first time, savoring the salt and heat as she began to explore him with soft, tentative flicks of her tongue.

He groaned, low and guttural, as she grew bolder, taking more of him into her mouth. She reveled in the way his body reacted—tense, trembling, his breath ragged as she continued.

He didn’t guide her. He didn’t need to.

She wanted this. Wanted to watch him unravel beneath her hands.

“You are heaven, my tempest,” he said as he hissed through clenched teeth. “But I will not let myself find release in your mouth, at least not tonight.”

He slowly slid back down her body before putting his hands on her full hips.

He flipped her onto her stomach and took a hand to her sex.

He began sliding his fingers up and down her slit, taking the wetness of her arousal and using it to massage the whole of her.

He then settled on the soft bud that would send her over the edge. .

As he continued to massage her clit, he slowly brought his large cock toward her entrance from behind.

“Such a good lass for me,” he whispered in her ear as he drove himself inside of her, hard and strong.

He began thrusting hard and needy, filling her entirely.

He took his hand off her throbbing clit to place both of his hands on her hips.

He used them as leverage to deepen his thrusts, occasionally pulling her roughly against his muscular thighs.

She found herself being pulled deeper and deeper into the moment with every rhythmic slap of their skin.

The room was hot. Impossibly hot. She felt as though she may explode and a part of her wanted to. She could die a happy woman. Just. Like. This.

Just when she felt her body could not take anymore, his pace quickened again. Each thrust sent a new sensation through her body. She felt him there, but she felt him everywhere.

“You. Are. Mine. You. Are. Mine. I. Will. Give. You. The. World,” he said with each thrust, before he finally cried her name. “Marion.”

After finding release, he fell to his side next to her. His breath was heavy but even. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand before looking at her, as she was still on all fours. He guided her slowly down and spooned her from behind on the bed.

“It is all right. You can relax now,” he said as he kissed her shoulder from behind.

But the moment his lips touched her skin, her body burned to feel him again.

“Oh Anselm,” she cried out, sticking her bottom as hard as she could into him. “Please, I need ye.”

“Your wish is my command,” he said as he thrust inside of her.

His pace was just as deliberate, yet slower this time.

She could feel him going more slowly, allowing her to savor each sensation as she took the whole of him.

They fit so well, like a lock and key. She felt as though this man was truly made for her.

She had no doubt that their future would be passionate, full, and bright.

When they finally found release a second time, as well as the strength to rise from bed to don robes, Anselm rang for supper. Mr. Lewis sent a footman up, who politely left trays outside of the door.

They dined while sitting on the rich carpet in front of the fireplace, savoring stewed meats, mousseline potatoes, fresh vegetables, and a delicious pudding for dessert. They sipped on luxurious red wine, allowing the intoxication of the spirit, as well as their passion, to settle deep within them.

When they had finally found their full, he took her in his arms and strode over to a large chair in front of the windows. He held her in his lap, stroking her long, chocolate locks as they gazed out at the stars.

“When I was a lassie, I would look at the stars and pray that someone else was lookin’ at them too,” she said. “I dinnae realize how beautiful it would feel to have someone to share it with, like we are now.”

“I know that I promised you the world, but if it is the cosmos you require, I can assure you that I am up for the challenge.”