Page 65 of The Duke and the Scarred Bride

“What?”

He stepped closer to her and placed a hand under her chin to tilt her head up. His eyes were warm and alight with mirth as he watched her.

“You seem to have developed the habit of hiding in your thoughts, dear wife.” He smiled. “Do I bore you?”

“No,” she answered with a smile of her own. “But you frighten me.”

“Indeed?” he asked. “Why?”

“There is a lot I still do not know, while you seem so… experienced.”

He grinned wolfishly at her choice of words, tilting his head to the side and regarding her.

“And that means you enjoyed having my hands on you the last time?”

It was a statement posed as a question.

She nodded. “Very much.”

He chuckled darkly, spinning her so suddenly that she had no time to react. His hands were on the stays of her dress, expertly working to unfasten them.

“Has anyone ever told you that you are brutally honest?” he asked, pulling the heavy dress off her shoulders.

“Yes,” she answered breathlessly as he kissed her neck. “Does it offend you?”

“On the contrary,” he whispered in her ear, hands loosening the bindings to the rest of the layers she wore, leaving her in her chemise and stockings. “I find that I like it. Very much.”

She smiled, then gasped as he pulled her flush against him.

“I want to see all of you,” he groaned against her, before falling on his knees to kiss his way up her thigh. “I have dreamt of you every night since I tasted you. Your scent has haunted my every waking and sleeping hour.”

She whimpered as he nipped the inside of her thigh and rolled a stocking down and off her leg. He lavished the same attention on her other leg, winding her up so she had to place her hands on his shoulders for balance.

“Get on the bed, dear wife,” he ordered. “I need to see you spread out before me.”

She obeyed, worrying her lip as he crawled over her. The size difference between them sometimes startled her, but she never had any reason to fear him.

He tore her chemise off her body, his eyes darkening as they roamed over her nakedness.

“You are too beautiful for words, darling wife,” he murmured against her breast.

Her back arched off the bed as sparks of heat shot through her where his mouth and hands touched her. He kneaded and squeezed her flesh, both cooling and stoking the fire burning inside her. He was too much, yet she hadn’t had enough of him. She wanted to feel him closer and everywhere at the same time.

One of his hands slid down her body, his finger dipping between her folds to slide inside her. He watched her even as she squirmed at the feeling. She was completely naked and vulnerable beneath him, but she didn’t feel ashamed. He made her feel alive and desired, and the heat and appreciation in his eyes only ratcheted up her arousal.

He moved his finger deeper, slower and then faster, before he added another finger, his other hand pinning her hips down as she writhed on the bed. Familiar pleasure bloomed in her core, and her cries grew louder.

“Percival,” she moaned.

“I’m right here with you,” he groaned against her mouth. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” she gasped. “Please.”

He kissed her, and she kissed him back, protesting when his fingers slid out of her. He lifted his fingers to his lips, popped them in his mouth, and closed his eyes in ecstasy as he sucked on them.

“You taste even better than I remember,” he groaned. “You are simply divine.”

He trailed kisses down her neck, stopping at her breasts and lavishing his attention on them, nipping and licking and sucking till she pushed her fingers in his hair and cried out her pleasure.

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