Page 63 of The Duchess Games

“Not what?”

“I’m not like your soft aristos, Callum.” She felt stupid just saying it out loud.

“No,” he said, and she clutched her clothing closer. “You are lush and strong and perfect.”

She met his eyes, startled. “I have freckles.” Stretch marks. Scars from ropes and beach pebbles and puppy teeth. Rolls. Secrets.

“And I intend to lick every single one of them.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage, a soft exhalation.

“Do you think this is the time to tease me, Caitriona?”

Her awkwardness melted under his approving perusal.

“Maybe,” she said again, archly this time. Testing the border of his monumental self-control, daring him to lower the shield of his title. Just as she lowered the material and let it fall to the floor.

“Come here, Caitriona.”

She took a step forward, paused. He growled.

She felt more powerful than a queen with a hundred armies at her beck and call.

He crooked his finger to draw her nearer and then circled it once. “Turn around for me.”

She feigned innocence even as her breath trembled, and her nipples puckered. “Why?”

“Little thieves need to be searched,” he said. “Thoroughly.”

She turned on her heel, feeling giddy and lustful. Like she wanted to moan and laugh at the same time. She didn’t hear him close the distance between them but suddenly his mouth was on the back of her neck. He dragged his teeth along her spine, beard tickling her skin until she shivered. He bit gently, just above the swell of her bottom. She jolted, sensation arrowing down the back of her thighs and into her very core. His fingertips dug into her hips, dimpling her skin. “Callum, please.”

He bit again, then soothed the sting with his tongue. “You deserve a little punishment, don’t you think?”

But he insisted on teasing her so she couldn’t think. In the closet, by the garden wall. Here, finally alone in his bedroom. Thoughts of smuggled tea and revenue men fled entirely. There was nothing but his mouth, his beard tickling her, every part of her straining for more.

“I said, don’t you think, Caitriona?”

And his dark voice, always his voice bringing her back to her body, the needs he aroused, inexorable as the tide.

“Are you punishing me, or yourself?” she asked pertly.

He stood slowly. “Good point.”

And then she was suddenly on her back, sprawled over his wide soft bed. His fingers curled around her ankle, and he yanked her closer. “Better.”

He leaned down and she reared up, wanting to meet his kiss halfway. He only smiled that dark, demanding smile and bent his head to her breast. He drew her nipple into his mouth with a long pull that made her gasp. His palm grazed her quim and she moved helplessly, trying to get closer. He was still fully dressed. The stark contrast to her nudity, to the way he eased her legs open, only made everything feel more intense.

He moved to her other breast even as he pushed a finger inside her, then another, working them as deep as they would go. The sensations stole every thought and worry right out of her brain.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” He groaned. “Take anything you want if it means I get to touch you.”

He couldn’t mean it.

But oh how she loved that he said it.

She clawed at his clothes, untucking his lawn shirt, threatening to rip it. He laughed, low and amused but when he removed it, his hands trembled. Just a little. Just enough.

He moved back up her body, gently rubbing his beard along the inside of her knee, up her thighs. His mouth ghosted over until she squirmed restlessly, and he laughed. “I think this is my favorite freckle,” he said against the soft patch of skin above her mound. “It makes me wonder how you got it. Lounging naked in the sun like a mermaid.” He licked it, as promised.