Page 103 of A Night of Desire with a Duke
"Then do it," Catherine challenged. "We have all the time in the world now."
"We have forever," he corrected, his fingers working at the buttons of her dress. "And I intend to use every moment of it."
The dress pooled at her feet, followed by layers of petticoats and corset and chemise until she stood before him in nothing but her stockings and garters.
"The blue ribbons," he said roughly. "I knew it."
"You've been thinking about my garters?"
"I've been thinking about everything. Your garters, your thighs, the way you gasp when I..."
She kissed him to stop the words that were making her melt. He responded immediately, his hands roaming her bare skin with three months of pent-up desperation.
"Too many clothes," she gasped, pulling at his cravat.
He helped her, shedding coat and waistcoat and shirt with record speed. When he was finally as bare as she was, they stood looking at each other for a moment.
"You're more beautiful than I remembered," he said softly.
"You remembered?"
"Every detail. Every freckle, every curve, every place that makes you gasp." He lifted her suddenly, carrying her to the bed. "And now I get to rediscover them all."
What followed was nothing like their first time; that... had been exploration and discovery. This was coming home. They knew each other's bodies now, knew exactly how to touch, where to kiss, what would drive the other wild.
"I've dreamed of this," James said against her throat. "Every night for three months."
"Since that night?" Catherine gasped as his mouth moved lower. "I've been dreaming of it every night since."
He looked up at her, his grey eyes dark with passion. "Then let's make reality better than dreams."
And he did.
When they finally collapsed together, spent and sated, the afternoon sun was slanting through the windows.
"How long were we..." Catherine started.
"Three hours," James said immediately. "Three hours and fourteen minutes."
"You weren't actually counting during..."
"I'm always counting when it comes to you. Minutes until I can see you, seconds until I can touch you, heartbeats until I can do that thing that makes you scream my name."
"James!"
"What? We're married now. I can say scandalous things about my wife."
"Your wife," Catherine repeated, savoring the words. "I'm your wife."
"My duchess," he corrected, pulling her closer. "My love. My everything."
"We should probably rejoin our guests eventually."
"Absolutely not. They can entertain themselves."
"Your mother will..."
"My mother will understand completely. Besides, great-aunt Agatha is probably keeping everyone entertained with more inappropriate stories."
