Page 74 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“Information, I believe I have provided in abundance,” Marigold whispered, her breath warming his neck. “But I believe I am supposed to provide you with an heir as well.”

His whole body stiffened. His hands clenched into fists without him even thinking about it. His feelings were somewhere between anger and shame. Shame on himself that he had put this transaction between them, and anger that now she was referring to it at such a moment.

“We might as well get on with it,” Marigold chuckled.

He looked down at Marigold, ready to speak his mind, but her look was so filled with desire, her rosy lips half-open, her body thrumming. His own longing took over and washed everything else away.

He could not wait anymore. One hand slid down her body from her shoulders down her ribs until it settled to the dip of her waist, pulling her to him impossibly close. The other hand raised softly and slid to the back of her neck, tilting her head to the angle he needed.

“You know, sweetheart,” he said, diving into her eyes, “you have gotten a little impertinent on me.”

“Have I, Your Grace?”

“You let that mouth of yours run,” his tone became darker, “and now, I have a dilemma.”

His hands on her skin tightened, not painfully, just enough for her to feel him.

“And what is that dilemma?” Marigold stammered.

“I don’t know if I should reward you or punish you.”

The gasp that left Marigold’s mouth was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. It was as if Marigold suddenly found herself in the same dilemma and she herself could not even choose.

His mouth descended, and his lips took hers with devastating force. He was not even asking; he was demanding that she surrender to him. He parted her lips with a possessive pressure, and Marigold moaned into his mouth. If he even possessed an ounce of restraint, that sound shattered it.

He anchored his hands at her waist and pulled her flush against him, not even a breath of air between them. Every little bit of her he devoured: her taste, her breath, and that startled gasp that undid him.

He walked her backwards toward the bed. Marigold steadied herself, fisting his shirt. When the back of her knees touched the bed, he twirled her around. Slowly, he began undoing the buttons of her gown. One by one.

“I’m going to see all of you today, Marigold,” he promised.

Each button earned her a kiss on the neck, and each time, Marigold shivered. Brandon smiled against her skin, seeing her completely giving in to him. He would make sure she did not regret it.

Not long after, the gown fell to the floor, and he made quick work of the rest of her clothes as well. He felt a kind of rush that he had never felt before. There she was, positioned in front of him, her back to his front, her fully naked while he was still dressed.

His hands started roaming. His lips continued to conquer the skin around her neck, close to her ear, down to her shoulder.

“You are so beautiful. Look at you.”

Brandon wrapped his right arm around her waist, flattening his palm over her stomach. His other hand rubbed lightly around her neck, pulling her firmly back. His thumb and forefinger caught her jaw to tilt her head back to his shoulder, and she opened her neck to his kisses.

Marigold let out a sharp gasp, and instinctively her spine arched into him as he worked his lips over her skin. Her one hand went round and touched his thigh, as if connecting them.

The fingertips of his hand went down her neck, over her collarbone, and down between her breasts. He could feel her erratic pulse thumping under her rib cage.

“So soft,” he murmured in her ear. “Your skin is so soft. I could lick it all day.”

A violent, low shudder rippled through her, and her fingers dipped into his skin, gripping him.

Slowly, his leg wedged between her thighs from behind. Even through his clothes, he could feel the heat radiating from her. Her own knees trembled, ready to buckle, but he supported her so closely that it was as if he wished they would become one. If she were to fall, she would fall because he asked for it.

“Now, sweetheart,” he moaned in her ear, “let’s see how much trouble you can get in when properly encouraged.”

CHAPTER 22

PROPERLY ENCOURAGED

Marigold was barely standing up straight. If it weren’t for his massive body, she would have collapsed long before. And then again, she was on high alert, her whole-body humming, almost pulsating with need.