Page 18 of Duke in Darkness

When they had lit the room near bright as day, she gestured hesitantly to her bed. “Do you…?”

Exton went to the bed and pulled the embroidered quilt back, revealing crisp linen sheets. “By all means.”

Clumsy with anxiety, she climbed onto the bed and attempted to arrange herself as per her grandmother’s instructions. Did she lift her nightgown to her waist? Or would he? Blast it, she couldn’t remember! Eventually she lifted it halfway, so her ankles and knees were revealed. Surely she couldn’t be faulted for that. Now, if only her hands would stop trembling, she could prepare herself for The Event. Resting her head on the pillow, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Please do proceed.”

Nothing happened. In fact, her husband didn’t even move from where he sat perched on the other side of the bed. Thoroughly unsettled, Lilian opened her eyes and looked at him. What had she done wrong this time? Was she so unappealing Exton couldn’t bring himself to bed her again?

Then he smiled faintly. “I thought we might kiss to start. If you’re agreeable. But do not…please do not touch me.”

Lilian bit her lip to halt a barrage of questions. Alongside the wretched hot blood, her naturally inquisitive nature was something else she must firmly suppress. “Of course. Whatever you wish.”

He made a rough sound, and his gaze darkened as it practically pinned her to the bed. Sweet heaven. Not a proper look, but a hungry one. Her skin heated and dampened, and abruptly her nightgown felt like sackcloth rather than soft linen. Then he moved across the bed toward her, slowly and yet with such intent, that Lilian shivered.

Kneeling beside her, Exton cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing her lips. Finally, he bent down and brushed his mouth against hers, back and forth, again and again, until her lips were oh-so-sensitive and parting for him, and tingles shot down the length of her body.

“That’s it. Good,” he gritted out, flexing his jaw before his lips firmed, pressing much harder, and his tongue darted into her mouth and tangled with hers.

It was so delicious, she didn’t even realize his hand had moved until it cupped her left breast, his thumb unerringly finding her nipple and rubbing it through her nightgown. A jolt raced through her, hardening the tender peak, and Lilian jerked away in shock. “What are you doing?”

Exton blinked. “Readying you.”

Confusion swirled, turning her mind to mud. Readying? “I don’t understand.”

His disconcerting dark gaze fixed on her again. “Make you wet.”

Now he spoke in riddles. She’d already bathed. Why would she want to be wet again? “I don’t see how that will help.”

“It will. When pleasured,” he said roughly, the timbre of his voice rasping against every nerve ending she had, almost making her squirm against the sheets, “your body will create wetness. Between your legs. To ease my way.”

A chill shot through her at his words. Pleasure?

Only whores enjoy the act.

“N-no thank you,” she choked out. “Could you simply do what needs to be done so we are properly wed?”

Exton leaned back and rubbed his jaw again, turning his face away so she could only see the uninjured side. “You want me to just…lift your nightgown and shove inside you. Like Quentin might have.”

His words were low and calm, yet she sensed resignation and…hurt? But how could that be? Surely, bedding his wife in the correct manner was something to aspire to. “I really don’t know how he might have, ah, done his duty. But I understand that is how it is for marital relations between a duke and duchess,” she replied cautiously, wanting to share what she knew and yet not offend. “Swiftly and efficiently done, and then you bid me good evening and leave.”

“I see,” he said, pulling his robe a little tighter.

Oh no. She kept doing everything wrong. Exton didn’t look hungry anymore, just weary. “But,” she said desperately, reaching out and touching his hand, “if you wish something different, I will of course obey.”

To her great relief, he eventually gave her fingers a faint squeeze. “Before we begin, I’d like to apply a little oil. Don’t want to hurt you…more than necessary.”

Lilian hesitated. “Ah—“

“It is commonly used.”

Hmmm. To ease her discomfort, surely it couldn’t be wrong. “Very well.”

Exton nodded, and reached into the pocket of his robe for a small bottle. Uncorking it, he tipped a quantity into the palm of one big hand, and soon a pleasant citrusy scent filled the air. He swirled his fingertips in the oil, and then leaned down and delved under her nightgown until he reached her core.

Lilian jumped at the coolness of the oil against her most private part, but it soon warmed. Up and down, back and forth, her husband smoothed the liquid in, only stopping to recoat his fingers as he circled an acutely sensitive place at the top of her mound, then slid down…down…

Oh. His fingertip had pushed inside to gently stroke her. All while his thumb brushed that other place, making it pulse, making her want to tilt her hips and shamelessly rub her mound against his fingers to increase the pressure. It felt strange and disturbing…and very, very nice. If he continued, she wouldn’t be able to halt an unladylike moan of delight escaping.

Only whores enjoy the act.