Page 59 of Distracting the Duke

She nodded.

Then his hands were in her hair, smoothing it out over her shoulders, kissing individual locks and twirling them around his fingers.

“Smooth and glossy as a raven’s wing,” he murmured, then chuckled. “How poetic I sound! And how foolish.”

The look on his face made her want to melt, from her womb to her skin. She sucked in a breath as he took her into a tight embrace, raining kisses down the side of her face, across her eyelids, along her eyebrows, until her lips ached for the feel of his again.

Somehow he sensed her need, and this time, the kiss was less teasing, more ardent. As his tongue explored hers, she pressed herself against him, reveling in the feel of his taut male torso against her own softness, recalling the superb musculature that lay beneath his clothes.

Clothes that were definitely in the way.

Managing to squeeze a hand up between their bodies, she was able to run her hands over the crisp cloth of his shirt and the muscles beneath. She heard a moan, and realized it had come from her.

He dug his hands deep into her hair and tugged gently, pulling her head back so he could have access to her neck. It was then she realized he had released the ties of her wrap and tugged it down over her shoulders.

“Wait a moment.” He stepped away and reached out to snuff the candles on his desk.

“No, don’t,” she whispered, and couldn’t believe her own brazenness.

He smiled and murmured, “Wanton,” and returned to lift her up and place her by the leather sofa along one side of the room.

As she made to lie down, he caught at her hand. “Not yet. Let’s savor this.”

With a languid smile, he tossed aside her wrap and started to undo the ties of her nightgown, distracting her as he did so by nibbling all around the shell of her ear, then pressing his tongue inside it in a shockingly intimate fashion. Unfamiliar sensations exploded through her body in a new, very optimistic, way.

He pushed aside the sleeves of her nightdress and, suddenly, her breasts were free, nestled in his warm hands. While he kissed her gently on the lips, his fingers began to move, slowly circling, but not touching her nipples, running over her skin, gently squeezing her breasts.

“Ah, they’re just as I remember,” he murmured against her mouth. “Although I could feel only the shape then, not the silkiness of the skin.”

“Dreadful man,” she murmured back. “You were so wicked.”

“Correction. I am wicked,” he said, then dipped his head and seized one beaded nipple in his mouth.

She shuddered, and her hands clenched on his taut biceps. Pleasure erupted within her, burned in channels of molten sensation throughout her body, peaking in her belly and between her legs.

She gasped, and he put his mouth to the other nipple, running his tongue over it, his hand tugging gently at the first tip until she arched and pressed against him, trying to increase the sensation.

She wanted more. She wanted this feeling all over her body.

Where she pressed against him, she felt the hardness of his erection.

She sucked in a breath of panic and tried to move away.

Simon had hurt her so many, many times with his relentless, unforgiving organ. Would Marcus be any gentler?

Oblivious, Marcus shifted and sank to his knees, and she could no longer feel that fearsome part of him. She eased out her breath as he worked to remove her nightgown, all the time teasing and taunting her breasts with his teeth and mouth.

This was so good.

She felt giddy, and her knees seemed to have lost interest in holding her up. She swayed forward and anchored her hands in his hair, reveling in its thickness and surprising softness. A draught of cool air made her realize what short work the man had made of her clothing.

She was now completely naked.

Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes tight and waited for him to tip her backward onto the couch and push her knees apart.

“Clara?”

She opened her eyes but couldn’t find words.