Page 40 of The Duke's Unclaimed Bride
He watched her cautiously, as if she were a wild animal that might bolt. Instead, she stayed in his arms.
She wasn’t running from him. She wasn’t looking at his scars. Laurence felt his mouth go dry as he looked at the beautiful woman in his arms. He leaned closer, testing whether she would panic, but to his surprise, that dusting of pink he adored seeing on her cheeks bloomed once more.
He did not like to admit that he enjoyed being able to make her blush. He wasn’t meant to care, and he knew that all too well.
Some baser instinct, a desire for something more than just a stranger for a wife, stirred inside him. Their noses were touching, like they had been that day in the carriage.
No matter what he did, he could not seem to scare this woman away.
Without another thought, he leaned in slowly, feeling her lips with his. His kiss was soft and searching. He wasn’t sure if it would change everything or nothing.
Edith responded, hungrily pressing her lips to his, lighting a fire inside him that suddenly burned so brightly it consumed time and space, fusing him to her.
He wanted more of her. There would never be enough affection, kisses, or caresses to satiate his desire.
His tongue brushed against the seam of her lips. He had never been a man who begged or pleaded. But at that moment, he knew that he would if it meant he could have more. More ofher.
Edith gasped, and their lips quickly found an eager rhythm.
Holding and kissing his wife suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world. It felt like he’d finally found home.
After several moments, they pulled back from each other. He moved to close the gap between them once again, his large hand tangling into her honey-blonde hair. It felt like silk against his fingers and smelled of roses and summer rain.
Wrapping his free arm around her waist, he pressed his tongue against her mouth, and she parted her lips. He groaned as their tongues touched, tasted, and explored.
Click.
Laurence pulled back quickly as the lock released and the door opened.
“There we go,” the housekeeper said, shaking her head.
What in God’s name just happened? What have I done?
“Finally,” he growled, trying to ignore his thundering heart and Edith’s taste on his lips.
He walked over to the open window overlooking the garden and leaned out. “Never do that again, Tilly.”
Edith watched him leave, too stunned to speak. He had kissed her, not once but twice. And with an unexpected passion that had made her weak with desire.
“Where is Tilly now?” Her voice trembled.
“Still running in circles around the staff in the gardens, I’d wager,” the housekeeper said with a dry chuckle.
Edith nodded. Her lips were still burning from Laurence’s kisses.
“Your Grace, are you quite all right?” the housekeeper asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
Edith opened her mouth and then closed it again. She did not know.
“I—yes, I just… need some fresh air,” she lied, walking out of the room and toward the gardens.
Once safely behind the castle and away from prying eyes, she sank onto a bench and touched her lips.
Her heart thudded in her chest as the vivid scene replayed in her mind. His large hand wrapped around her waist. The scent of his cologne, like musk and dates. The taste of his full lips and the press of his tongue against hers.
She felt a groan growing in her throat and covered her face with her hands.
“Are you all right, Your Grace?”
