Page 53 of King of Rogues
Heat burned on Naomi’s cheeks. Her wild imaginings of sex were about to become very real.
Chapter Twenty-Five
With their guests now gone, Monsale led Naomi back into the main castle building and up the winding stairs to what was now their bedroom. When they reached the door, he stopped and let go of her hand. “We could go for a walk if you like, or we could spend some time in our room and then ring for supper later. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”
Naomi toyed with the gold wedding band on her finger. “I don’t think my nerves could handle a walk. And to be honest, my knees are a little shaky,” she replied.
Monsale came and stood face to face with her, their noses barely touching. A shiver slid down her spine as he began to slowly rub his nose against hers. Such a simple act and yet, it was so profoundly intimate. Naomi had long craved for matters between her and Monsale to be this way. So, loving. So, real.
He took a gentle hold of her hands. His were warm and strong. “Don’t ever be afraid of me, Naomi. Or of us and what we have. I want our first time together to be a wonderful experience for you.”
“Bridget said you would make sure it was good.”
“You spoke to Bridget today?”
“Yes. We have always been close. She and I have shared many private conversations over the years. Through the sad times with her late husband. And I was her confidante when she and Stephen first began their relationship. Talking to her this afternoon helped to somewhat alleviate my concerns.”
He bent and kissed her lips.
“So, are you comfortable for us to become lovers? I won’t ever make you do anything you don’t want.”
“Yes.” She had dreamed of this moment for many years. Had laid in her bed at night, touching herself, imagining that the hands which stroked her heat were Monsale’s. Nothing was going to stop her from experiencing the real thing. Of finally knowing what it was to be with him.
Monsale opened the door to their room and ushered Naomi inside. He closed the door and turned the key in the lock. “Just to make sure we are not disturbed. The staff here are not used to having a duchess in residence.”
Naomi’s gaze took in the deep crimson coverlet draped over the bed. Then the matching curtains, and gold and red striped woolen carpet. Everything in the room was lush, ornate. It spoke of wealth, and power.
Monsale screwed up his face. “I had a decorator come up from London and create this look a few years ago. I must confess I was going through my ‘I am monarch of all I survey’ phase and probably took things a little too far when it came to the color scheme. If you feel the need to make changes, please go ahead.”
She glanced around the room, taking it all in. “I like it. The rest of the castle is stone and wood, whereas this room has a warmth about it. This is our room. If we decide on any alterations either here or at Monsale House, we should do it together.”
Naomi had observed her parents’ marriage, how they negotiated their way through the long years of being a couple. The example of give and take was one she hoped to follow. The duke and duchess had always shared a bedroom. Even when they were going through the occasional rough patch that Kitty told her every couple experienced, they still slept together. They worked through their problems and differences. She intended that her and Monsale’s marriage would be built on the same firm foundations.
But right now, Naomi didn’t want to think about furnishings or other people. This time was for her and Monsale. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, lifted her head, and met his gaze.
“Make love to me.”
Monsale’s expression changed to one of loving regard. He gave a nod of understanding. There would be plenty of time for them to discuss mundane matters, but this moment was all about the two of them. Of sealing their union and becoming one.
Their mouths met in a soft, tender kiss. Naomi slipped her hands inside Monsale’s jacket, her fingers gripping the sides of his waistcoat. She groaned as he deepened the kiss.
Her mind brought up memories of that morning in the carriage, of how primal Monsale’s touch had been. She had been in no doubt that he had been on the verge of claiming her that day. If she had offered herself to him, he would have taken everything and more.
His lips drifted from her mouth, tracing slow kisses across her cheek. When he reached her ear, he whispered. “I want to know what you like. Tell me, Naomi, wife of mine, have you touched yourself when you are alone in your bed?”
Heat burned on her cheeks, and she lowered her head. She had never spoken of those moments with anyone else. Just the thought of her secret desires set her mouth to dry.
“I.” She swallowed. This was so personal. So private.
Monsale’s lusty chuckle sent a pulse of heat coursing through her body. It settled in her aching core. Did he have any idea what this was doing to her?
“Now Naomi, we can’t be keeping secrets from one another. I shall tell you everything you wish to know, but in return, you have to—no you must let me enjoy every single naughty one of yours.”
Placing a finger under her chin, he lifted her face. Naomi shyly met his gaze. “If you like I can go first. Tell you one of my dark secrets.”
She nodded.
“The reason why I refused every time you asked me to dance with you, is because I knew if you were close, I wouldn’t be able to control myself. My manhood would go hard, and you would finally know that I desired you.”
