Page 8 of The Marquess’s Stolen Bride (Dukes Gone Dirty #3)

8

H ayden had never in his life been more nervous than he was at this very moment. He tapped on the door that connected their rooms, letting himself in when he heard a quiet answer.

He assumed it was assent to come in, but he second guessed this assumption when he entered to find her curled up in a nightdress, her arms wrapped around her legs, and fear written all over her features.

His heart ached with tenderness.

How to put her at ease?

He had no idea. He’d never bedded a virgin before, and this one was so very sheltered.

She was watching him with wide eyes that made him feel like a predator, so instead of moving directly toward her on the bed, he sat in the armchair beside the fire. “Come,” he said, patting his knee. “I promise I will not hurt you.”

She bit her lip but slowly uncoiled and did as he bid, approaching him with slow, steady steps until she was just in front of him.

He swallowed hard, his cock stirring at the sight she made. His wife. His bride.

Possessiveness and pride, the need to take care of her—all that mixed with desire and left him gritting his teeth to keep calm. All he wanted to do was grab her, hold her, and show her just how much he would cherish her.

But her hands were clenched into fists, and she looked terrified.

“Let us make a deal, hmm?” he said as he offered her his hand. When she took it, he tugged gently, and she settled onto his knee.

He just barely bit back a groan. This close, he could smell her feminine scent and feel the softness of her skin. A sweet torturous assault on his senses.

“A deal?” she echoed.

“You tell me what you like and what you do not like. I told you I don’t wish to scare you, love, and I meant it.”

She nibbled on her lip. “I…I don’t want to undress for you.”

His brows arched slightly at the fear in her eyes as she said it, but he nodded. He’d not pry. Not tonight. “Very well. May I touch you? On top of your clothing?”

Her eyelids fluttered as she watched his hand on her knee. He was stroking her gently, one arm around her waist.

“Y-yes. That’s all right,” she whispered.

He nuzzled her ear. “And kisses, love? Are kisses all right?”

She turned her head to face him with a sharp inhale. “Yes.”

Her eyes were dark, her pupils large. And he wondered if she had any idea that he could see the hard outline of her nipples where they strained against the fabric.

He leaned in close and claimed the lips she offered. This time she met his kiss with one of her own, her mouth opening for him readily.

“Good girl,” he murmured when he pulled back. “You’re a quick study, I see.”

She blushed and ducked her head.

God, so sweet. Nothing at all like his flirtatious whore of a stepmother or any other lady of his acquaintance, for that matter.

She was almost too good to be true.

He pushed the thought aside. He’d gotten too jaded, he supposed. Too used to everyone around him having an agenda. But not his Madeline.

He cupped her jaw, bringing her back down for another kiss, but this time he let his hands explore. Slowly, gently. And was sure to whisper into her ear, “Just tell me if anything scares you, love.”

She nodded, her hands clutching his shoulders as her breasts lifted and fell sharply.

He looked into her eyes, searching out that fear that broke his heart, but all he saw was desire.

Bloody hell. That desire in her eyes was such sweet torment, it took all his control not to lift her up, toss her on the bed, and hitch up her skirt so he could bury himself inside her cunny.

He clenched his jaw tight. Soon. One day soon they’d have that sort of ease in their marriage bed. But she needed to be wooed first. Seduced.

And he would not fail her.

“Does this feel good, love?” he asked as his hand on her knee grew bold, sliding up to her inner thigh and giving the soft flesh a gentle squeeze.

She nodded, her lips parted, and her eyes dazed as she watched his hand.

He dipped his head and moved his lips along the lace edge of her neckline. “And this? Is this all right?”

She shuddered when his movements had her nipples brushing against his chest.

“Y-yes.”

He dipped his head lower until his lips grazed over the hard, dark nubs that teased him through the thin fabric. He paused, letting her adjust to the feel of his hot mouth so close to her lovely tits. “And this?” He covered her nipple with his mouth through the fabric, and she whimpered, her hips jerking. He pulled back quickly, gazing up at her lovely face. Was it fear?

But no. There was confusion in her eyes, no fear.

“Did that feel all right?” he asked.

She nodded quickly. “I don’t…I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

“Don’t fight it, love,” he whispered against the soft curve of her breast. “What’s happening is natural. It’s your body’s way of readying itself for me.”

For me. He fought the urge to shout it. For no one else but me .

But he didn’t have to tell this girl that. He didn’t trust the sacred bond of marriage any more than he’d trust a cutpurse alone with an open safe, but this girl?

He trusted her.

Or…he wanted to trust her.

And he needed her to trust him.

“Readying itself for what?” she asked.

Oh, Christ. Alarm shot through him. Was it possible she did not know what happened in the marriage bed?

He grimaced at the memory of her alone in that prison of a bedroom.

Of course it was possible. Who would have taught her? Her wicked stepmother?

He cleared his throat and loosened his grip on her thigh when he realized he was being too firm. “You see, Madeline, when a man and woman wed, they must…come together to have a baby.”

She wiggled her hips, and his hard shaft responded like a hound, sitting up on its hind legs to beg. “Yes, I think…” She wet her lips. “That is, we have animals and…this…”

She shifted, turning to meet his gaze as her movement brought his hard cock right up against the soft mound between her thighs. “This fits here.”

He nodded, swallowing convulsively. Not thrusting up against her sex took all of his control.

Her brows drew together. “Will it hurt?”

He winced. “Yes. I’m afraid it will.”

She bit her lip, and he leaned forward to kiss it until she released her lip and he sucked it into his mouth, making her moan.

He sat back to meet her gaze. “The first time it will hurt, there is no avoiding that, I’m afraid. But I will do all within my power to ease the pain, and from that point on, I will only ever bring you pleasure in bed, do you understand me?”

He hadn’t meant that last part to come out so gruff and harsh, but he was holding onto his control through sheer will, and she nodded quickly, almost eagerly. “Yes, William.”

The sound of his given name on her lips made him groan, and he buried a hand in her hair to pull her forward for another kiss. This time she didn’t use her hands to hold herself upright and her breasts crushed against his chest.

She moaned again, and the sound sent fire through his veins.

He moved the arm that was around her and gripped her bottom. “Is this all right?”

She nodded eagerly again.

The hand on her thigh moved up slowly. Sweet Jesus, she was so hot. When he slid his fingers between her thighs and cupped her sex through her nightgown, she stilled and he groaned.

Even through the fabric, he could feel how wet she was. The thin cotton was soaked through, and the wet heat against his fingers made his mind go blank with everything but sheer desire.

She pulled her head back, and he caught sight of her flaming cheeks.

“No, love. Do not be embarrassed. Never be embarrassed in front of me.”

“I’m…” She swallowed audibly. “I’m sorry, I’m wet down there and?—”

He clapped a hand on her buttocks again, harder this time to get her attention. Her eyes flew up to his as her breath caught and her hips rolled on instinct.

“What did I tell you about apologizing?” he said.

For a moment, he was afraid he’d scared her, but instead, she melted into him, her eyelids lowering slightly like she was hypnotized.

“Good girl,” he whispered, and she moved against him in a way that reminded him of a kitten looking to be stroked.

She liked it, he realized.

She liked his praise, and she responded to his commanding tone. Her gaze held a bit of adoration, and that made him want to get on his knees and worship her in turn. He didn’t know exactly what she’d been through, but enough to know that her trust was fragile and precious. And she was trusting him to be in charge of her body without taking advantage. To be firm with her without hurting her.

Bloody hell, she was too perfect for words, and what she was offering him—the trust and the faith and the sweet innocence…

It humbled him to his very core.

“Do you know why your apologies bother me?” he asked, his lips close to her ear.

She shook her head, her hips rocking slightly between his palm which was cupping her quim in a firm grip, and his other hand which was still clutching her bottom.

“Because your pleasure is my greatest triumph,” he said.

She pulled back to meet his gaze, confusion and disbelief there.

“I mean it. I want you to trust me to touch you.” He leaned forward to nip at her lips. “It is my right and my honor as your husband to teach you just how much pleasure you can experience.”

“What sort of pleasure?” she asked.

He whispered against her lips. “I’ll show you.”

Go slow , he reminded himself, even though he ached everywhere to be closer to her sweet heat. And so, he did not take her the way he wanted, but he maneuvered his hand between her thighs so that even though the material was a barrier, his fingers were parting her folds.

She moaned into his neck, and he nearly came in his trousers at the feel of her.

“You’re so very wet for me,” he said.

“And that’s good?” Her voice was high and it broke with a whimper when he moved his fingers, sliding them back and forth between her thighs. He couldn’t wait to feel the silky slick heat of her inner folds, but for now he settled for touching her through the wet material, using its friction to tease her sensitive skin.

“That is very, very good, my little love.” His fingers were coated with her juices, the fabric soaked as he rubbed that tight nub at the apex of her womanhood and then stroked inward until his fingertips were dipping into her channel.

She was writhing now, pressing her pert tits into his chest as she sought out something she didn’t even know how to name.

“That’s right, my little kitten,” he growled into her ear. “You move your hips and you ride my fingers until you find what you need. That’s my good girl.”

His words of encouragement had her writhing even more, and he couldn’t keep his other hand still. He dragged it upward from her tight little bottom to her waist and then up further until he was cupping her breast as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, sucking on her sweet skin as her hips bucked wildly.

“Is this all right?” he teased as his fingers found her hard nub and pinched.

Her hips bucked wildly as she moaned and whimpered. He moved his fingers more aggressively now, helping her to find the friction and the rhythm that she needed. When she pulled back and kissed him so sweetly, he sought out her clitoris and rubbed it hard and fast until she was panting against his lips. “What is…I can’t…”

“Shh,” he soothed. “You can and you will, love.”

Her gaze met his and it was filled with questions and confusion as she lost control over her body. He knew what she needed. She needed him to take control, to give her permission and tell her what to do.

“That’s it, love,” he growled. “You look into my eyes, and you let me watch.”

When he slid his thick middle finger toward her tight channel, the tip of it nudging inside of her, he felt her muscles there contracting, pulsing…

“Let me see you come for me, kitten,” he growled. “Be a good girl and show your husband how you like it. Show me the pleasure I make you feel.”

Her hips jerked, and he pressed his thumb to her rhythmically, matching her rhythm as she ground down against his hand.

“Come for me,” he commanded.

Her lips parted and her eyes widened with surprise as the first wave of orgasm crashed into her. And then she was falling into his arms, letting him hold her and stroke her until the last wave subsided and she lay there, panting in his arms.