Page 104 of The Duke's Scottish Bride
The three women fell into an easy conversation. Their laughter mingled with the hum of the party as Anselm approached with three champagne flutes. They smiled at him as they took glasses from the esteemed Duke and clinked them together as they looked at him.
“You must stay longer than a week, Elspeth,” Verity pleaded as she looked up at the late hour and clutched her friend’s hand. “There is so much to catch up on and surely Anselm and Marion will not mind if you do.”
“Oh, we would be most delighted to have ye stay on as a guest as long as ye would like!” Marion said as she hugged them tighter.
“Perhaps.” Elspeth smiled at her friends. “Perhaps I just might.”
Later that night, when the last guest had finally departed and the echoes of the party faded into the quiet eleganceof the townhouse, Anselm and Marion stood on the balcony overlooking the gardens from his quarters.
The cool autumn night air was a welcome balm after the warmth of the crowded rooms. The city lights twinkled below and created a distant, glittering tapestry on the dulling green of the lawn.
Anselm wrapped his arms around Marion from behind. He pulled her close and rested his chin on her shoulder.
“Tired, my love?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You must be exhausted. I dare say you spoke to each guest that came, and you will undoubtedly be the talk of thetonfor weeks to come.”
She leaned back into his embrace and allowed contented sigh to escape her. “Content is a better way to put it. It was a wonderful evening, one of the best. Everyone liked your wife’s work,” she teased as she tilted her head back to look up at him.
“My wife’s work is exceptional,” he corrected, his voice husky. “My wife is exceptional.”
His hands slid from her waist. They traced the curve of her full hips as he pulled her even tighter against him. His lips found the sensitive skin beneath her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
“And you, my love, are the greatest work of art.”
Her breath hitched as his fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of her gown. The emerald silk slid to the floor in a soft whisper. He turned her in his arms, and she saw that his green eyes were dark with desire as he devoured her with his gaze. She craved the way he looked at her.
She stood in front of him, her corset accentuating each curve of her body. He turned her around again and unfastened it with expert fingers.
“Each time I think ye cannae get any faster, ye somehow shave off more time.”
“Is that a challenge?” he asked playfully as their bodies met creating a perfect fit.
He picked her up and pulled her naked body tight against his chest, the world beyond the balcony fading, leaving only the two of them. He carried her to his bed and laid her down with deliberate care, as though she were something precious, fragile, his eyes never leaving her.
He shed his clothes swiftly, without finesse—casting aside the ornate pieces of his suit in a way that would no doubt horrify his valet come morning—but he didn’t seem to care.
His gaze swept over her, dark and burning, full of heat and something almost reverent.
“Turn for me, love,” he said, his voice low, rough, but no less gentle for it. “Let me see you.”
She hesitated, breath catching. “But daenae ye want me to?—”
“I want everything,” he murmured, his tone sending a shiver through her. “But right now, I want you like this.”
He moved to her, hands firm but not unkind as he drew her to the edge of the bed, guiding her where he wanted her—but with a lingering touch that worshipped even as it possessed.
“Oh my,” she gasped as he slid into her from behind, her body arching at the sudden, exquisite fullness.
“Oh, Anselm,” she cried, breathless.
His reply was a low, ragged groan as he began to move, each deep thrust both deliberate and consuming—as though this wasn’t just about lust, but aboutclaimingwhat had always been his.
“Oh…oh Anselm,” she cried as she grabbed a pillow to place under her stomach, giving her a better tilt to receive him.
He pushed hard but slow at first, building up pace as if they were a fine piece of music. As they reached the crescendo, he brought a hand down to her needy clit and massaged so he might bring her over the edge with him.
“Oh, Anselm,” she cried as he thrust his hot release deep inside of her. .
I feel so complete,she thought as she listened to his ragged breathing, all from his response to her.
