Page 61 of Distracting the Duke

She swallowed hard. It had never been this easy before.

Or pleasurable.

“Deeper,” he demanded, and she pressed down farther, the desire to experience all of him overwhelming her.

He began to rock beneath her.

Oh. Lord. This was… She couldn’t find the words.

Closing her eyes, she experimented with moving up and down and squeezing and releasing, and gradually he filled her completely. Every fiber of her being concentrated on the place where the two of them were united, reveling in the exquisite pleasure of their joining.

“Look at me.”

She did. “What a beautiful smile you have,” she whispered. She had never seen him look so handsome, with that sweet, adoring look on his face, mingled with an expression of wonderment.

His breath was coming hard now, and he was thrusting deep into her. Suddenly, her body seemed to lose all bone, all structure, and ecstasy exploded through her. She lost the rhythm of their joining and spiraled out of control.

He moaned and panted in her ear, clinging to her, nuzzling her breast, kissing her, licking her, as he gave three more powerful thrusts and spilled his seed into her.

She grasped his head and pressed him against her, and had to fight an overwhelming urge to tell him she loved him. She had never before experienced such closeness to another human being, had never been given such a beautiful gift, and she was desperate to tell him in the only words her muddled head could think of.

But those words never left her mouth.

The wrenching sound of the study door being flung open was followed by a series of oaths uttered in a deep, masculine voice.

They both twisted round in shock and mortification.

There, framed in the doorway, holding up a brightly lit candelabrum, stood the impressive figure of Lord Stranraer.

Chapter Thirty-Two

A nightmare scramble ensued, during which both Clara and Marcus attempted to find their clothes and put them on in the right order. Clara might have found it funny had she not been so ashamed. How was she ever to look Lord Stranraer in the face again?

And if he knew of their shameful liaison, no doubt Lord Snettisham would soon know it, too. Who knew where this juicy piece of gossip would end up?

Stranraer had closed the door…eventually. She was almost certain she’d heard a snort of laughter, but then masculine footsteps disappeared down the hallway. Somewhere in the depths of the house, a door slammed.

Marcus came to her and gathered her gently against him. “Don’t worry, my sweet,” he soothed. “I’ll square things with Ned. He’ll be more embarrassed than we are, no doubt, and the incident will never be referred to again.” He gazed down at her. “Are you all right, my love?”

“Other than being mortified?” She smiled. “More than all right.”

He kissed her hair. “Good. What we just shared was a taste of heaven. I hope I didn’t hurt you, my darling? I had meant to go rather more slowly.”

“Not at all. It was wonderful. But… Are you certain about Lord Stranraer?” she asked. Her reputation—what there was of it—would be in ruins if anyone found out about this.

“Absolutely. Don’t look so worried. You will have the protection of my name, whether or not there are consequences.”

She blinked up at him. “Consequences?”

“If you’re with child. I’m afraid poor Ellie will just have to look elsewhere for a husband. I shouldn’t imagine it will take her long to find one.”

His voice sounded…different. His face still had that smooth, boyish look it had acquired during their lovemaking, his mouth was softened and tilted up at the corners. Clara suddenly realized this was what the Duke of Ulvercombe looked like when he was happy. That she had made him so, filled her heart with joy.

Except… Was his happiness from making love, or from the thought of a child…?

The joy within her dimmed.

He combed his fingers through her hair, and she sat back, trying to let his ministrations buoy her.