Page 57 of The Duke's Only Desire

And she didn’t care. He was still magnificent, despite the scars. No,becauseof them. His hard muscles were sculpted likeone of Lord Elgin’s gods, but unlike those statues, his skin wasn’t marble smooth but wonderfully rippled, and he was warm and alive. And he was all hers. Finally.

“Now you know what I look like,” he told her quietly. “If you’ve changed your mind, I won’t—”

“Never.”

A devilish glint of pleasure danced in his eyes. “Like what you see, then?Allof it?” he teased. His innuendo caused the scarlet heat in her face to deepen.

She gestured a hand at her own naked body. “Doyoulike what you see?”

He took the invitation and raked a burning gaze over her. “Allof it,” he wickedly repeated. “You’re stunning.”

“So are you.”

He clenched his jaw and looked away as he muttered, “I’m a scarred monster.”

“Perhaps.” She rose up onto her knees to bring her eyes level with his, wanting no misunderstanding on this point. “But you’remymonster.”

She placed her lips to his scarred chest and once again left a series of openmouthed kisses across his rough skin, to show him with her body how much she wanted him. He trembled beneath her lips, which only encouraged her more, until she was tracing the rough ridges of the scars with the tip of her tongue. The spicy taste of him filled her senses and emboldened her, and she rested a hand on his hip for balance as she tentatively brushed her other hand down his front. His hard length jutted up temptingly, and she couldn’t help but touch him.

He jumped when her fingertips brushed against him, sucking in a mouthful of air as if she’d hurt him. She pulled back.

His hand clamped over her wrist, and he paused to take a deep breath before bringing her hand back to him. Every musclein his body seemed to stiffen as he guided her in slowly stroking her fingertips along his length.

“But it hurts you,” she whispered with concern.

“It hurts good,” he corrected and closed his eyes with a low groan, releasing her wrist to let her explore on her own.

She did just that, brushing her fingertips in feather light caresses up and down his length, only to grow bolder, until she folded her hand around him to hold him against her palm and stroke. Her other hand came up to cup his testicles and gently squeeze the heavy orbs. A slow tremor built within him, and he rested his hands on her shoulders, his hands flexing and curling like a cat who enjoyed being petted. And if he enjoyed this, then he might also enjoy…

With a quick breath to steel her daring, she lowered her head to brush her lips against his round tip—

“No,” he croaked out and grabbed her shoulders to stop her. “Not that.”

She gazed up the length of his body at him. “Why not? Won’t you like it?” When his answering groan left her as confused as before, she arched a brow. “You did it to me.”

“I know. But if you do that to me,” he warned as he gently lowered her onto her back on the mattress and followed down after, “this night will be over before it begins.” When she frowned, puzzled, he placed a kiss to her temple. “And I want it to be perfect for you.”

“It already is,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him down to her, then allowed him to part her legs with his knee until he settled his hips into the cradle of thighs.

His hand reached between them to touch her at her core where his mouth had given her such exquisite pleasures, and he murmured, a mix of pleasure and surprise, “You’re still wet.”

She knew what men and women did in marriage beds—Hannah Danvies had told her everything she’d needed to know about what parts went where, what to expect when they did, how her body would react…exceptthat. “I’m sorry.” Embarrassment heated through her. “I didn’t mean to—”

He silenced her with a kiss. “That a good thing,” he murmured against her lips. “It means I can more easily do this.”

Before she could ask what he meant, his finger slid inside her and began to stroke into her tight warmth. The sensation was wonderful, and a low ache began to throb inside her once more, just beyond the sinking swirl of his fingertips.

“And this.” A second finger joined the first and spread her wider, not pausing in his delicious rhythm of thrusts and retreats.

She buried her face against his shoulder to keep back a whimper of pleasure. A ball of need gathered at his fingertips as he plunged, swirled, and teasingly retreated.

“And this,” he repeated, yet this time his voice sounded oddly pained as he slipped his fingers from her and an unfamiliar hardness pressed against her core, round and large.

“Shay, what—”

He lowered his hips and sank inside her.

She gasped at this new invasion as her body was spread wide to accommodate him. A slight burning followed, and Sophie held her breath, her body tensing around his even as it gripped tightly around him.