Page 36 of The Duke’s Sharpshooter (The Duke’s Guard #14)

H ours later, Maddy was holding on to Francis with one hand and waving goodbye to her parents with the other. The carriage waiting for them was a surprise. “I thought we would walk to our new home,” Temperance said.

“Ah, but His Grace thought it would be easier—and faster—if we borrowed one of his carriages. Do ye mind?”

She smiled. “No. It was thoughtful of him. I must have thanked him and the duchess three times for their generous gift.” Flaherty handed her into the coach and settled on the seat beside her. “Have you seen our cottage?”

“I haven’t, though I have seen me cousins’ cottages, and they are similar to what the lot of us were used to living in before we came to England. I think ye’ll like it, but if there’s something ye want to change, I can always ask His Grace—”

Temperance placed her fingers to his lips, then replaced them with her mouth. Flaherty’s lips were firm and warm, and he was more than willing to stop talking in favor of returning the kiss she’d initiated.

“I hope ye aren’t worried about tonight, lass.”

This was the opening she had been waiting for. “Actually, I am a bit concerned.”

That seemed to rattle him. “About what?”

“I have been married before, and know what to expect when we seal our vows.” He held her gaze but didn’t say anything. A bit unnerved, she added, “I know we have to consummate our marriage, or else we won’t be legally wed.”

“Aye.” He paused for a moment, then asked, “Are ye afraid I’ll rush ye and not treat ye with care?”

“No! It’s just that I have no idea what you will expect me to know or be accustomed to.”

Flaherty chuckled. “It would seem we have a similar concern, Temperance. That being the case, I’m thinking we should leave our expectations outside our home. I know I’m going to enjoy finding out how ye will react when I press my lips beneath yer ear.”

His lips brushed against the sensitive skin beneath her ear. It tingled, then heated when he nibbled her earlobe.

“I’m thinking we’ll add that to the list of where ye’ll want me to kiss ye.” Flaherty kissed her until she was no longer anxious, but brimming with anticipation.

The coach slowed down all too soon. “Just when I was about to trail kisses along yer collarbone to the base of yer throat.” He ran the tip of his finger along the bone, watching her eyes while he dipped his head, and touched the tip of his tongue to the soft skin that pulsed madly. “Yer scent intoxicates me.”

While she struggled to regain her composure, he opened the door and stepped down from the carriage. Reaching for her hand, he leaned close and rasped, “Remind me to pick up where we left off once we’re inside.”

Temperance shivered. He smiled, thanked the coachman, and waved him on his way before turning to open their brightly painted yellow door. He scooped her into his arms and entered their cottage.

She noticed the basket on the table by the fireplace, and recognized it as the one Constance had been filling for them earlier in the day. “Are you hungry?”

He closed the door with his foot and strode over to the bed covered with a quilt in the softest shades of cream and green. “Starved.”

“Oh, well why didn’t you set me down over by the table?”

His eyes darkened to the color of a midnight sky. “I’m hungry for ye, lass—not food.”

Temperance decided to stop worrying and kissed him with all of the hope and love in her heart.

“Now then, lass,” Flaherty said, setting her on her feet beside their bed, “where were we?”

She sighed and turned her back to him. “If you undo my buttons and help me remove my gown, I’ll help you with your frockcoat and waistcoat, and then remind you.”

He deftly undid the tiny buttons before placing his hands on her shoulders. Pressing his lips to her neck, he slowly turned her around to face him. “Are ye wanting yer gown off before or after ye help me undress?”

Temperance slowly smiled. “Now, please.”

“’Tis me goal tonight, lass, to please ye with me lips, me tongue, and me teeth. But don’t worry—I won’t bite ye too hard.”

Her hands were trembling as she helped him out of his frockcoat, shaking too hard to undo his waistcoat buttons.

“Let me.” Instead of folding his clothing, as he’d done to her gown, he tossed them on the chair. Temperance watched them slide to the floor and bent to pick them up. Flaherty surprised her by lifting her off the floor and laying her on the bed. “I believe I was about to kiss yer collarbone.”

Words were no longer necessary as he knelt on the bed and slowly lowered himself until he pressed her firmly into the mattress.

He leaned most of his weight on his forearms and said, “I hope I didn’t crush ye, lass.

” Before she could tell him he hadn’t, her husband trailed a line of kisses where he’d promised, interspersing them with nips and licks as he worked his way slowly to the dip at the base of her throat.

“Ye taste of raindrops and rose petals.”

Undone by the tender way he kissed her, Temperance slipped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. She tormented him with nibbles, licks, and kisses to his mouth, his jaw, and his neck, until his breathing grew heavy and he groaned.

Temperance forgot everything but the taste and feel of her husband as he slid the chemise off her shoulder, bit it, then soothed it with a kiss. “Where else will ye taste of rose petals, lass?”

Her eyes bored into his. “Everywhere. Her Grace sent a container of rose petals along with the hot water for my bath.”

Flaherty’s eyes glittered with passion. “Why don’t I undress, then I’ll help ye out of yer chemise, and we’ll test yer theory?”

“Theory?”

“Aye, lass, everywhere is a bit vague. There’s a particular bit of skin on the underside of yer belly, and the top of yer thigh, that I’m wanting to sample, if ye’ll let me.”

Temperance was lost in the sensation of Rory’s powerful body pressing her deeper into the mattress as he rose from the bed to remove his boots, socks, and the rest of his clothes.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when he stood before her in all his naked, muscled glory.

Wanting to show that she did not fear him, she lowered her gaze and nearly swallowed her tongue. “I don’t think you’ll fit.”

He motioned for her to sit up, then helped her take off the last article of clothing between them. “Not to worry, lass—we have all night. Ye’ll be more than ready to receive me, and I’ll have ye writhing beneath me, begging for me to fill ye to the hilt.”

She would have answered, but was too busy responding to his urgent, all-consuming kiss. It lit a fire deep inside of her— in a places she had forgotten existed. Slowly, meticulously, and with tenderness, he paid homage to her breasts, drawing them into his mouth as he coaxed a response from her.

“Roses,” he whispered. “Here, too.”

“It’s my turn to taste you.”

“Not yet, mo ghrá .” He sucked her breast into his mouth and slid his hand beneath her other, to test its weight.

Watching her closely, he rolled the nipple between his fingertips and cupped the fullness, all the while devouring her other breast with his lips, teeth, and tongue.

His eyes darkened as if he sensed the shift in her moans a heartbeat before she cried out as the climax slammed into her.

“God in Heaven, lass. Ye’re exquisite. I want to see ye come again before I test ye to see if ye’re ready.”

Temperance couldn’t catch her breath, and was mindless to try when Rory switched to her other breast. His hands and mouth worked their magic and she felt herself begin to fly.

*

Flaherty could not believe how responsive his wife was.

He’d barely gotten started finding all of the places he knew would excite her when she came apart in his arms a second time.

He was desperate to settle between her legs and feel her warmth as he slid inside of her, but he had not plumbed her depths with his fingers yet.

The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her.

“Lass, I need to see if ye’re ready to take me.”

She opened her eyes and held his gaze before whispering, “Hurry.”

He lowered his forehead to hers and drew in a deep breath. “I’ve married a lusty wench.”

Temperance’s hands slid from his shoulders along his sides, and lower still until she grabbed his muscled buttocks and squeezed.

Flaherty’s eyes crossed, and he nearly gave in to the need to plunge into her, but stopped himself.

“Soon, lass.” He slipped one finger, then two, inside her, drawing them out slowly at first, and then a bit faster each time he pumped them into her, mimicking what he desperately wanted to do with his aching shaft.

Like magic, her inner walls clenched around his fingers and softened until he was able to slip in a third finger. Her gasps and the way she lifted her hips told him she was beyond ready to receive him.

He withdrew his fingers and, settled between her thighs, poised at her core, rasped, “Now and forever, mo ghrá .” Her eyes closed as he slid into her warmth. He stopped and urged, “Open yer eyes, lass. I want to see them cloud with passion when ye come apart again.”

Her dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks, and slowly lifted until he was riveted by the desire and need in the depths of her brilliant green eyes.

“There’s a lass. Don’t close yer eyes. Watch me, see me need for ye. See me love for ye as I fill ye.”

He withdrew, then slowly filled her to the hilt. Her gasps and moans pushed him to increase the pace, until he was mindless to everything except the pressure building inside of him. She cried out his name, her inner walls clenched, and he drove home, spilling his seed inside of her.

Capturing her lips, he kissed her until he stopped pulsing inside of her. Her hands fell to the mattress as she shook with aftershocks of the pleasure they’d shared. Worried that he’d been too rough, he kissed her cheek, her temple, her forehead. “Lass, did I hurt ye?”

Her sweet moan told him he’d satisfied her, but he needed her to tell him that he had not been too rough their first time. He straightened his arms to look down at her. “Ye need to answer me, lass.”

“If I say no, will you make love to me again?”

He snorted with laughter as his shaft hardened inside of her. “Don’t be leading me on, wife. I’m wanting and answer—not yer distractions.”

She reached up and slipped her arms around his back, urging him closer. “I feel alive again, Rory. I may be sore tomorrow, but I’m not right now.” In a move that took him by surprise, she hooked her legs around his waist and lifted her hips. “Take me to Heaven again, Rory.”

He kissed her tenderly, slid his hands beneath her backside, and thrust into her, setting the pace and the rhythm that had her panting and meeting him thrust for thrust.

“Rory!”

He drove into her one last time and shuddered, releasing his seed into her welcoming warmth.

“If I’m dead in the morning, lass, be certain to tell me cousins I’m wanting a fine wake, and there’d best be a bottle of the Irish when they send me off.”

Temperance pinched his buttocks. “You will not be dead in the morning—you’ll be too busy making love to me as the sun rises.”

He brushed a tendril of hair off her forehead. “Will I now, lass?”

“Aye, mo ghrá . So get plenty of rest tonight.”

“Ye’re a bossy bit of goods, lass, but faith, I’m thinking I might live long enough to pleasure ye again in the morning.”

She laid her cheek on his heart and sighed. “Tomorrow I get to taste you…everywhere.”

Legs tangled, bodies sated, and hearts filled with the miracle of the love they’d made, they drifted off to sleep.