Page 38 of Wedded to the Beastly Duke
He was out of his depth, lost to momentum and desire that had been days, weeks in the making.
“What are you doing?” Emmeline gasped as he tugged the first pin free.
“Nothing.” He kissed her again, punishingly hard, and she squirmed underneath him. “None of your concern.”
“But—”
“Quiet.” He reached around to smack her behind, and she gasped again, but this time in pleasure.
So she liked it when he was rough with her, didn’t she? That was dangerous knowledge to have when all he wanted to do was pick her up, throw her onto his bed, and never let her leave again.
By God, he wanted her more than breath.
The urge to take her was all-consuming.
“Is this part of my punishment?” she whispered as he freed the final pin, casting them aside onto the chair to find later.
He stepped back, seeing his wife with her hair about her shoulders for the first time.
She was unspeakably beautiful, the kind of hidden beauty that takes a second look to uncover, but once he had taken that second look, he had been unable to see anything else.
Her hair fell about her shoulders in sensual waves, so long that it almost reached her back. So much hair, caught in loose waves, only the locks around her face still tightly curled.
He ached with how much he wanted her.
Her gaze dropped to his breeches, where evidence of his desire was blindingly obvious, and she glanced up at him again, her eyes wide.
“Adam.”
He strode forward and kissed her again, burying his hands into her hair and losing himself somewhat in the silky, loose locks. She matched him kiss for kiss, running her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, her movements clumsy and inexperienced but not less frenzied.
If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that she might despise him, she might hate him for bringing her here and imposing his rules on her, but she wanted him.
He might never be able to give her the life she had wanted, but he could give her this.
He could make her understand what pleasures a man and a woman could experience together, if given the chance.
Unable to help himself, he rubbed himself against her, pressing himself against her stomach in the search for friction. She responded in kind, wiggling in response. It was as if she knew what she was doing to him.
He wanted to sink into her.
This need for her was taking over, and he reached down her body, his thumbs skimming her breasts. Even through the layers of material, he could feel her stiff nipples, and she let out a low sound of surprise and pleasure when he flicked them. He cupped her breasts again. She was a cozy handful, and when he flicked her nipples again, her hands tightened in his hair.
“Adam,” she gasped.
There was no conceivable way he could deny her now. He bent to pick her up and carried her to the bed, depositing her on the mattress and crawling up her body.
“Thisis your punishment,” he said as he kissed her again.
ChapterTwelve
Emmeline thought for certain she must be dreaming. Adam’s heavy body pressed against hers, the weight delicious, his mouth devouring, and his hands, those wicked hands, coaxing sensations from her she hadn’t known existed.
This is your punishment.
If she had known he would ravish her as a punishment—if she had known just how much she would enjoy it—she would not have ever feared disobeying him or breaking his rules.
Every time he was rough with her, sparks erupted in her belly, and she felt herself grow slick between her legs. Want and need mingled until it was an inferno inside her, but she wasn’t sure what came next.
