Page 54 of The Duke of a Thousand Desires

“Do not fret,” he said. “I have a remedy for you.”

He raised the sheet she had demurely draped across her breasts. She was a sight to behold, her tumbled charm so engaging that he almost forgot the damp cloth he had brought her. “I soaked this in comfrey,” he explained as he slipped his hand between her thighs. “It should help bring down the swelling.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Comfrey? It has an odd scent for an herb.”

“And diluted champagne. The water seemed a little cold. I wanted to soothe you.”

She gasped back a laugh. “You scoundrel. Do you do this often?”

“Never.” He dabbed gingerly at her stained flesh. “My valet keeps a supply of medicinals on hand for shaving mishaps. Is that better?”

“I’m not sure,” she said and rolled onto her side, unintentionally presenting him with a view of her posterior. “You are too much. Anointing me with champagne.”

“I trust it didn’t sting,” he said, reaching back to place the cloth on the table.

“I was too overcome to notice. You are sin incarnate. To think I doubted Jane.”

He chuckled, his chin resting on the top of her head. “I should warn you that it isn’t wise to criticize a man whose chains of restraint have been unfettered.”

“What if I do?” she whispered, feeling cherished, daring, and certain she could hear the rattle of broken links.

“Then I might have to discipline you.” He dipped his head to lavish kisses on her shoulder. His mouth raised shivers where it lingered. “There’s a possibility, however, that any such action might come back to haunt me, you being such an adventurous girl.”

“You aren’t the shrinking sort yourself. What manner of discipline do you have in mind?”

He fitted his groin to her backside. His penis stood erect; the pressure branded her skin. Her body tingled as she anticipated another round of wicked bliss. He whispered, “I’ll show you once we know each other a little better.”

“You’re one of my oldest friends.”

His dark voice caressed her nape, sending another tingle down her back. “I was referring to a more basic knowledge.”

“Of course you were,” she said with a laugh of resignation. His hand slid down her spine to the seam of her bottom, dipping between her thighs to her cleft. She inhaled and slowly closed her eyes.

Her body softened, opened, acutely sensitive. His fingers parted her engorged folds and splayed, intensifying the ache that rendered her his captive. She was tender inside, and still her body clenched in response, ravenous for more of his masterful touch.

Who had she become? She was so willing to oblige his wants that she could not have been the same woman who’d only hours ago stood at the altar. Simon, however, was flagrant in what he needed. No trace of his earlier reticence was evident. He was all dark arrogance now.

He licked a path from her nape, down her spine, and to the rise of her bottom, murmuring, “I want to take a bite of you.”

“You wouldn’t.” She gasped as he held her around the waist and sank his teeth lightly into her rump. “I feel as if a fox just nipped my bum.”

“Delicious. Did you know you have two adorable dimples on your arse?”

“Dimples are the mark of the devil.”

“The devil cannot have you. As of today you are the property of a duke.”

“Does it follow that you belong to me?”

“Down to the bone,” he said without hesitation. “Deeper even.”

“And I can make similar claims on you?” she asked, turning her head slightly to his, her gaze narrowing in speculation.

A smile ghosted his face. “At any hour of the day or night. I await your pleasure. Claim me, duchess.”

Several moments elapsed. He fell silent, his fingers slightly embedded in her folds. She throbbed inside where he had filled her. “Simon?” she asked at length, drawing onto her back to regard him. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking,” he said.

“About?”

“You,” he answered, covering her with his body. “Us. This.”

She didn’t need to ask whether he was at least for the moment content. The tone of his voice allayed her doubts. With only a smile to forewarn her of his intentions, he eased his fingers from her sheathe, parted her thighs, and pushed slowly inside her.

“This?” She swallowed a cry as he ground into her. She felt unbearably swollen as her muscles closed around his shaft. She felt a sweet pain, an urge to draw him deeper. “The act of sex itself?”

“No,” he said. “The act of us together. Body and soul as one.” His back flexed; his face darkened in raw desire. His answer sent exhilaration through her blood. “Marriage to you is all that I have needed, and apparently I need it more than I could admit.”