Page 101 of The Duke's Scottish Bride
“If you want it, I will conquer it for you.”
He took her chin again in his hand and brought her mouth to his. He kissed her softly at first. He let his lips explore hers, savoring each sensation as he breathed in her floral lavender scent, letting her wash over him like the sea. How he wished he could bathe in her.
Before he realized what he was doing, his hands were roaming up and down her body. He traced the shape of her dress, finally settling on the top of the gown and her generous bosom that poked out of her corset.
“You should know better than to put yourself on display like this,” Anselm said as he kissed the crests of her breasts. “I cannot help myself. Do you want to feel how badly I need you? How much my body craves yours?”
He pulled away for a moment to watch her nod. He grabbed a delicate wrist and placed her hand on the crotch of his trousers.
“Oh my, Anselm,” Marion said as she stroked the length of him through his pants, feeling the hardness of his attraction. “Ye feel so good, darlin’.”
“I think we need to move this out of the drawing room,” he moaned as he placed his hand over hers, allowing one more stroke of her hand before removing it. “Let us be quick about it. To our quarters.”
“Excuse me, Your Graces,” Mr. Lewis announced as he entered the room. “Dinner is ready to be served in the main hall.”
“Ahem,” Anselm said as he began to feign a cough and doubled over.
“Are you quite all right, Your Grace?”
“Ahh, erm… yes, we—I meanhe, is fine, Mr. Lewis,” Marion said as she covered Anselm with her body. “But I do think it best if yecould bring trays of tonight’s meal to His Grace’s quarters. And please let Lady Verity ken that we are…indisposed this evenin’.”
“Ah, yes,” Mr. Lewis said, realization visible in his eyes as he looked between them. “Of course, and I will not rush in its delivery. I will have it brought up say, in the next hour?”
“Ye had better make it two. I want to be sure His Grace has proper time to…rest,” Marion said while suppressing a giggle.
“Of course, Your Grace,” he said before making a swift exit.
“It took everythin’ I had not to burst out laughin’,” Marion said as she took Anselm’s hands in hers. “Shall we make a run for it?”
“Get over here, you saucy Scot,” Anselm said as he tossed her over his shoulder effortlessly. Then he carried her out of the drawing room and up the stairs to his room.
He threw Marion playfully onto the lush bed. It was freshly made with new bedding. Rich green fabric had embroidered flowers on it. She ran her cheek along the material, inhaling the subtle notes of him.
“Well, as you can see… I am clearly still in wanting of you, my wife,” Anselm said as he dropped the last of his undergarments.
Marion sat up on the bed and propped herself up onto her elbows to look at him.
Aye, this man is a SIGHT to behold. I still daenae understand how I can take all that…manliness.
“I need you. Now.”
He walked over. He was deliberate and she was wanton. She needed him as badly as he did of her, if not more. The insides of her throbbed with a painful want, as if she would ache for all eternity if he did not put himself inside of her.
“We must do something about these clothes,” he said as he spun her onto her stomach.
He began undoing the fastening of her corset with expert movements. His efforts were quick and efficient but not harsh or sharp. Once it was loosened, he pulled it off and spun her around to begin work on the rest of her garments. She was undressed in less than two minutes.
“If ye decide ye no longer wish to be a duke, ye should consider work as a lady’s maid,” Marion joked as she rose to her knees. “I havenae seen such fast work before.”
“They lack the appropriate motivation,” Anselm said as Marion watched his eyes rove over her curves.
He pushed her down onto her back and began kissing her neck, before moving to work her full and aching breasts. Her nipples practically begged for his mouth and the nip of his teeth. He answered the call, working her breasts with his large hands,taking playful bites of her soft buds until she began to cry out his name.
“Oh Anselm,” she moaned and then she saw him sit up.
Her breath came in ragged, shallow bursts as she drank him in—so hard, so ready for her, his body tight with restraint. Heat surged through her as she realized just how much power she held in this moment.
Without thinking, she reached for him, wrapping her fingers around the thick length of him, feeling the heat and weight of him in her palm. He let out a sharp breath, his head falling back slightly.
