Page 68 of Only Scandal Will Do

She took a ragged breath and glanced down. Her nipples stood erect, as if his mouth still teased them. Hard and swollen, they ached for his touch once more. God, he made her such a wanton--he had from the first night. Every inch of her body--skin, breasts, legs, and especially that hot place between her thighs--was on alert, eager and begging for his attention. The anticipation made her giddy. A look up at Duncan and she forgot to breathe. When had he shed the rest of his clothing?

He put to shame the pictures of nude Greek statues she’d seen. Or else those sculptors were a poor hand at their trade. His body was beautiful in its clean lines, chiseled abdomen and long, muscular limbs. Oh, to run her hands all over it! He was her first nude man--in the throbbing flesh. Her gaze dipped lower, to his cock that seemed to jut straight at her, beckon her with a siren’s song. Heat rushed to her face. This was a normal part of married life, certainly.

The naughty part, to be sure, but…Would it be hot to the touch?

As if reading her thoughts, he moved closer and held out a hand. “You can touch me where you will, love. I won’t break and I don’t bite.” His brown eyes twinkled. “Well, not hard anyway.”

He pulled her from the chair and placed her hands on his waist. With a finger, he raised her chin and she found herself drowning in the dark, heated pools of his eyes. “Make love to me with your hands, Katarina. My body is yours. Do with me as you will.”

On the verge of panic, having no idea what to do, she would have backed away, but he slid his hands around her waist and said, “Follow me, love. When you want to go elsewhere, go and I will follow.”

Immediately he curved his hands over her hips, and after a moment’s hesitation, she moved her hands likewise. He continued around her backside, cupped her buttocks and she did the same, marveling at the firm, supple flesh beneath her fingertips. This intimacy was the most extraordinary experience of her life, to enjoy the sensation of his hands on her and of her hands on him, as if they were one being. She ran her fingertips lightly up his back and he skimmed her flesh as well, sending shivers down her spine. Did he feel that too?

While she made light circles around his flat nipples, he fondled her breasts, squeezed them together until a deep valley appeared. A guttural moan came from his throat, his eyes closed, fierce contentment on his face.

That image firmed Katarina’s resolve. Slowly, she retreated down his torso, stroked the sinewy muscles, and must have hit a sensitive spot, for he growled. As she circled his navel with her finger, tremors ran through him, which made her smile with satisfaction. She continued across his hard abdomen, vaguely aware that his touch had stopped mirroring hers, and dared to stray lower still, past his hips to the apex of his thighs. Her fingers brushed wiry hair, and she glanced up once more to gauge Duncan’s response. He stared back at her, his eyes pools of black. “I love you,” he mouthed soundlessly.

“I love you too, Duncan,” she said, and wrapped her hand around her husband’s erection. Great heat and smooth hardness registered as she brushed two fingers the full length to the end, exploring the different shape and texture at the crown. Before she could start the return journey, he seized her hand in a firm but gentle grip.

“You are a wonderfully quick student, my wife.” Duncan’s voice had lowered to a husky murmur she had never heard before. “But I think we must retire now, or we will never make it to the bed.” He drew her toward the big four-poster, but instead of laying her down, threw himself on his back in the center of the mattress and pulled her on top of him until she touched every inch of skin on his body.

“Duncan.” A mewl of desire escaped her as she rubbed her breasts against his bare chest. Her nipples now ached in need.

“Take your hair down, Katarina,” he whispered, pushing her up to sit astride his belly. “I want to make love to you with your ruby hair all around us.”

Moments later the wealth of copper locks swung free, swirling around her shoulders, reaching past her waist, enveloping her in a fiery curtain.

“Ahh.” Duncan stared at her as if enchanted, did not move or speak. She shook her head, making her hair dance around them. He seized her arms and rolled them until she lay beneath him, pinned by his warm weight. Kat’s heart raced and the ache between her legs deepened, the final hunger to be appeased.

He reached down, pressed her legs wide, then trailed a finger through the moisture there. His lazy smile widened. “You are as ready for me as I am for you, my love.” As he spoke, a hot pressure strained eagerly between her thighs. “But there is no rake’s trick to take away the pain, Katarina.”

The ache within her seemed worse than any pain possible. “Come inside me now, Duncan,” she whispered, and pushed toward the waiting heat just as he surged upward.

He hadn’t lied; the pain was there--sharp, like the bite of a blade--but over quickly. Then great fullness, as he continued to fill her in one swift stroke.

“Oh, Katarina.” Duncan sighed, a mere whisper with his eyes half closed.

The burn spread where he lay inside her, and she took a sharp breath. But it was done at last.

Suspended above her, he watched her with a sultry look. His smile grew tender. “My wife.”

Of all the things he could have said, that was the sweetest.

“Can you put your legs around me, love? And your arms?”

When Katarina did so, marveling at the way her body stretched to receive him, he rocked gently, withdrawing partway only to return deeper and deeper, until she believed they might truly join as one. Tension built within, a new ache she could not name that blotted out all others.

“Duncan,” she cried, needing him to assuage the pain that was not pain.

“Soon, love.” His voice, filled with a tension of his own, washed over her, igniting a new bloom of heat throughout her. His strokes quickened, insistent and driving, urging her toward a spiraling peak that suddenly burst deep within her. Her cries of sheer astonishment carried her along, riding on pulsing waves of indescribable pleasure. As stunned by the continued lapping throbs at her core as by the feeling of oneness with her husband, she lay panting. Moments later, he shuddered, calling her name as he erupted deep within her.

His weight lay pleasantly atop her, although he bore most of it on his arms. Still her inner flesh pulsed around him. She would have liked to savor the moment even longer, but found herself sliding toward a delightful sleep she was not inclined to fight.

Sometime later, she awoke to find Duncan rolling them onto their sides and pulling up the covers. They were no longer connected and she felt strangely bereft, but then he wrapped his strong arms around her and gathered her to his chest. Snuggled against her husband’s shoulder, she was more content than ever in her life. She smiled as she slipped into sleep. Their next lovemaking could not come soon enough for her.

* * * *

Duncan lay awake, watching the dark night lighten to pre-dawn gray, one arm flung over his head, the other curled protectively around Katarina, who slept unperturbed beside him. Savoring the memories of their lovemaking, reliving every moment so he could remember them in perfect detail, had kept him up most of the night. By the light of the guttering candle, his wife lay with her head pillowed on his shoulder, her bewitching hair spread out beneath the hand she’d laid possessively across his chest. Sight of that hair fanned the ever-present flames of his ardor. Perhaps she’d agree to lesson number two.