Page 62 of The Duke's Scottish Bride
His gaze swept over her body. His emerald eyes were dark, smoldering, and utterly consuming.
“You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen,” he whispered in her ear. “And I want you. Desperately.”
His hands—strong, calloused—moved possessively over her breasts, palming them with a hunger that made her pulse quicken. Marion arched instinctively into his touch as a soft, breathy gasp slipped from her lips while his fingers circled and teased her sensitive nipples, setting every nerve alight.
“I had nae idea that this could feel so good,” she whimpered.
“I haven’t even started, wife,” he murmured against her skin as he lowered his mouth to one nipple, capturing the taut bud between his lips and teasing it with expert, deliberate strokes.
He alternated between slow licks, firm sucking, and gentle nips, and each movement sent a ripple of fire through her. A tight coil of tension twisted deep inside her, building into a delicious ache she could no longer contain. Her hips lifted and bucked instinctively against him as she was driven by a fierce, urgent need.
“Yes,” she moaned.
He moved with a devastating slowness despite her encouragement, and she knew that the building pleasure would be well worth the wait.
She focused on his breath hot against her skin. His lips tasted and teased every inch of her as he moved away from her breasts to her stomach. She whimpered as she moved her hands to clutch his shoulders and urge him onward.
“Mm, that’s it, little tempest. I love that you’re so eager,” he growled as he placed his hands firmly on her hips. “Tell me what you want, and I shall give it to you.”
“I… I cannae begin to understand what I want,” she whispered.
“Let me show you what I can do for you,” he purred as he pulled her gown down her legs and threw it to the floor. “A taste of all that you can feel, my wife.”
“Please, Anselm,” she begged.
“I know, darling. I cannot resist either,” he grunted. “I need to taste you.”
He shifted lower down her body and his fingers traced a slow, teasing path over her delicate folds.
“You are so ready for me,” he said. His voice was low and rough as he began stroking her with increasing urgency, sliding from one finger to two.
His touch was precise yet unpredictable, both gentle and commanding, and utterly overwhelming. A sharp gasp tore from her throat as pleasure, hot and shattering, took over.
Then, without warning, he lowered his mouth to her most intimate place and inhaled deeply.
Her legs instinctively snapped shut as panic and desire warring within her when she realized what he intended.
“Do not ever be embarrassed with me. Not like this,” he murmured as he pulled her legs apart. “I know you want this and you… you have no idea how badlyIwant this.”
He sat up suddenly, giving her a clear view of the hard, pulsing length straining against his breeches. Heat burned low within her body, in the places he was trying to touch. That was his… manhood. She knew that much.
She instinctively reached for him, but he caught her wrists gently and raised her hands back above her head. His eyes locked onto hers with a fierce, unyielding command.
“Ah, ah. Tonight is about you, Marion. Now lie back like a good girl and enjoy this,” he said as he lowered himself back down. “I do not want you to think about me. Trust me, I have been dreaming of doing just this for longer than I care to admit.”
“What do ye mean?”
“I’ve wanted to taste you ever since I saw you in my carriage, all trapped in that dreadful wedding gown. Every moment since, I’ve fought to keep my composure, but the restraint has worn thin. Now, I need to know exactly what you taste like. Every inch of you.”
Marion gasped. The need between her legs completely took over and her back found the bed again.
Anselm’s lips traced slow, deliberate kisses along the tender insides of her thighs. His tongue flicked lightly as she shivered in anticipation.
Every gentle touch promised something more, something deeper, and she held her breath as he inched closer to the place where she ached to be touched. His mouth settled over her folds with a reverence that made her pulse quicken. The warmth of his breath sent ripples of pleasure through her. When his lips found her clitoris, the sensation was exquisite. The touch was soft, teasing, then firmer as he took it between his mouth and sucked with careful patience.
His right hand slipped inside her and his fingers explored with a rhythm both urgent and tender. Each stroke pushed deeper, sending waves of sensation that she’d never known, stirring something fierce and new within her. The mingling of his mouth and fingers overwhelmed her senses, making her feel at once fragile and powerful—powerful because she held the power to bring this commanding, controlling man to his knees.
Her body trembled as it poised on the edge of something she could barely name. She felt herself slipping, losing control, but it was a surrender unlike any other, one that left her feeling luminous, like a goddess awakening in the hands of the only man who could see her completely.
