Page 61 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars
“Oh,” she gasped.
“Tell me. Should I kiss you, dear wife?”
He did not wait for her reply; instead, he pressed his lips to her slick folds, his tongue tracing the same path as his fingers. She arched her back and cried out as quietly as she could, hoping that no one would find them in such a compromising position.
She had no idea if this was something their peers did regularly.
She had little to no experience to know what this was. All she knew was that she desperately wanted her husband, that she would beg him to do this again and again, to never stop.
And then she felt the pressure start in her chest and radiate out until it encompassed every corner of her body. She had never felt such an intensity, not when riding or praying. If she were to try to stand, she knew she would not succeed. Her breath came in ragged bursts.
“Was that what you anticipated?” Aaron asked, lifting his head from her sex.
“Better,” she panted.
She had no idea where he had learned to do all of that. How many women had he been with before he had married her?
All thoughts of Lady Isabella had been banished from her mind at the idea thatshewas the one who would experience this pleasure for the rest of her life.
“Do you understand now?” Aaron looked her in the eye, and she had no problem looking back at him. “You aremine. This is not about duty. Not anymore.”
She nodded, at a loss for words.
“We should get back to the party, as you were eager to do a few moments ago.”
He smiled at her, and she knew that this time, he was indeed making fun of her.
He tilted his head and leaned into her, kissing her on the lips. It was a tender kiss, not the passionate one from a few moments ago, and not the chaste ones he gave her in front of others.
She appreciated the subtle differences in his kisses and vowed to herself that she would explore them all.
“Do you need me to pull you up?” Aaron asked, extending a hand toward her.
A self-satisfied smirk curved his lips at the knowledge that he could do this to his wife. He was theonlyone who ever had and ever would do this to her.
It did not matter to him that they were at a party where his friends and even his acquaintances could stumble upon them atany moment. He did the same thing today that he would have done in the park had Morgan not interrupted them.
He lost all control when it came to his wife. He could not seem to master his desire, to stick to the boundaries and rules he had set on the day she walked down the aisle toward him on her father’s arm.
He had never anticipated he would marry a woman who would want him, as beastly as he was. The fact that she was jealous over him was more than he could have asked for. It made him want her more, to stake his claim on the woman who saw the good in him.
Theresa accepted his proffered hand and rose to her feet, the picture of grace and poise. When she took a step toward the stairs leading down to the gardens, her legs wobbled.
Aaron caught her before she fell.
“It seems that you are not quite steady on your feet.” He laughed quietly.
“It must be the things my husband did to me,” she quipped.
He had not seen her in such high spirits all evening, not even when they rode to the party on horseback.
He was pleased to see that she enjoyed their intimacy as much as he did. He would do anything to make her this happy for therest of his life. The broken fragments of his life before her, the way Isabella had broken off their engagement—it all seemed to disappear when he was with Theresa.
Aaron helped her down the steps.
“Oh, did you hear that?” She asked before pulling free from his grip and taking off toward the tree line at the edge of the gardens.
Panic lanced through him. He would lose her in the press of people. He would lose her to the darkness of the forest.
