Page 84 of She Tempts the Duke
“I know. The pain is easing. Give me a moment.”
Their harsh breaths filled the air, echoed around them. The musky scent of sex hung heavy around them. She didn’t know why she’d never considered that lovemaking would come with a fragrance. Strange how it enhanced her desires, made her yearn even more for what could be between them.
“It was lovely, by the way,” she murmured.
“Lovely?”
He sounded as though he choked on the word, but how could she describe what she’d felt? “Splendid, really. Spectacular.” She released a self-conscious laugh, held him tighter.
He pressed his forehead to hers. “It can be like that when we’re together.”
“I might expire if I experience those sensations again.”
“You won’t.”
“Is it like that for you, when you ... reach that part.”
“It’s exceedingly ... lovely.” He chuckled low, a sound that vibrated through her heart.
“You’re teasing me now. Is it all right to tease when we’re doing this?”
“It’s all right to do anything we want.”
He shifted slightly, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the discomfort.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked, and she heard the worry in his voice. While he’d not been able to see her closing her eyes, he’d obviously been aware of her stiffening.
“Not so much. Move a little more. I think I’m getting used to it.”
He took her mouth as though he owned it, and she supposed in some ways he did. There was a roughness to the kiss that had been lacking before. It more closely resembled the desperation she’d sensed in the garden. As though if he didn’t have her, he would die.
Warmth swirled through her and her entire body responded by curling inward. It took her a moment to realize that he’d begun moving slowly, sliding out, then in, gently with no hurry, no rush. The kiss had initially distracted her, but now it became part of the sensations. His tongue swirling through her mouth, his hands knotting in her hair, his hips rocking against hers.
The discomfort receded, the pleasure returned. More intense, more encompassing than it had been before. This time she knew what to expect. Before she had fought it, feared it. Now she embraced it. Embraced him.
She caressed him, every inch that she could reach. She realized that he, too, had to be lost in the sensations because he didn’t stiffen or object when her fingers encountered scars and continued to explore them. They were part of him, and as such, they were part of her.
Breaking off from the kiss, he rose above her and began pounding into her with a fierceness that called to the wildness in her. His grunts echoed around her. She felt the tenseness in his muscles, the quivering. Her own body reacted in kind: tightening, crying out for release.
When the climax hit her, she feared that he had lied, that she would die. How could anyone survive such intense pleasure? It rocked her to her core, left her with no bones, with the inability to move as Sebastian cried out with his final thrust.
Resting on one elbow, he buried his face in her hair. She could feel the hard pounding of his heart against her breast. She didn’t know where she found the strength to skim her fingers over his slick back.
“That was even more lovely than before,” she said breathlessly.
He laughed, a deep, rich sound, as he rolled off her. He slid an arm around her, brought her in against his side.
It was strange but that one small act pleased her more than anything else that they’d done that evening. It gave her hope that one day he’d be glad that he married her.
Chapter 24
Awaking to the faint call of the lark, Mary remembered leaving a window open and realized it must be morning. Impossible to tell with the draperies around the bed pulled as tightly shut as they were. They locked in the warmth of body heat, the scent of lovemaking, and her husband’s quiet snores. She wondered how late it was. It was theonlyreason that she leaned over and carefully parted the drapes—to try to determine the proper time, not to catch a glimpse of her husband. Or at least that had been her intention, but when enough faint light stole in to reveal him, she could not resist the temptation to make the most of it.
Sebastian was sprawled on his back. Long limbs tangled in the sheets, long limbs that had been tangled around her when she drifted off to sleep. His face was turned away from her slightly, but because she was to his left she was able to see the scars clearly. At some point during the night he had removed the patch. She’d seen the scars before, had refrained from studying them too closely when he was fighting the fever because it had felt like stealing something private from him without his knowledge.
Perhaps he would consider what she was doing now as the same, only now they were married and should have no secrets, no mysteries from each other. She could not say there was a beauty to the mottled flesh, but there was grace to it. He’d only returned to her life a short time ago, but she couldn’t imagine him with Tristan’s unmarred features. His face—scars and all—suited him. His temperament. His determination. All he’d endured to again walk these halls as lord and master. She wished he were more comfortable in his skin, that he would welcome the light touching upon it as they made love.
And they did make love. She could think of no other way to describe the tenderness with which he’d explored her body or the fiery passion with which he’d finally taken her.
