Kathryn Caskie - How To Seduce A Duke

Mary gasped as his heated touch and her own wanton thoughts drove her arousal to the edge. She turned her head up and stared up at him.

“I need you, too,” she whispered.

He cupped one hand to the small of her back and with the other eased down the capped shoulders of her gown. And then her chemise, pushing both down about her waist.

Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her breasts, covering them.

Raising his hand, he stroked her cheek as he gazed deeply into her eyes. “You needn’t fear me.” His fingers slowly played their way down her throat, then moved lower, until they lightly pushed her arms away. His fingers slid over the soft skin of her breast.

She closed her eyes at the sensation. “I don’t fear you,” she said softly, her words barely riding a breath. “I want you.”

His breath hitched in his throat as she spoke those simple words.

“Oh, Mary.” Her name, wrapped in his heated breath, washed over her throat. His moist lips followed the same path and pressed against her skin there.

She let her head fall backward, and her hair fell loose from its pins, sending the dark locks of her long hair cascading down her spine.

His hand, which had been pressed so firmly into the small of her back, slid upward and cupped the curve behind her neck. He pulled her head forward, her face upward to his, and he kissed her hungrily.

As he moved his mouth over hers, he removed his hand from her breast and suddenly swung it down behind her knees, lifting her into his arms before gently laying her out on the grass beneath him.

He stood over her, studying her body through those dark, smoldering eyes of his.

She was panting now with her need. She reached a pleading hand through the air to him.

As he came down on his knees beside her, she slipped her hand around his neck and pulled him down atop of her. She touched her lips to his, then slipped her tongue into his mouth.

He was as hard as the deuced stone under his left knee.

It would take an act of the Church and Crown to restrain himself now.

Mary arched against him, pulled him, with both hands, harder against her.

Her willingness, her desire for him and her passion were not in question. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

Now.

He rolled beside her, and as he fed on her mouth, he gathered up the layers of her gown and underpinnings and shoved them up to her waist. Baring her to his hands.

She sighed as he cupped his hand behind her knee and dragged it toward him, parting her legs to his touch.

He ran his hand slowly up between her creamy thighs, higher and higher until he felt the humid warmth of her beneath his palm.

As he raked his fingers through the downiness he found there, she pressed her mound firmly against his hand.

She felt hot and wet, and he slipped his index finger between her cleft and circled the small bud there.

Mary’s eyes went wide. She stiffened and feebly grabbed at his wrist, trying to pull him from her. “Rogan.”

He angled his shoulder against her arm and pushed her hand away as he touched his lips to her mouth, as his fingers continued to explore her wetness.

He thrust two fingers inside her and felt her muscles contract around them as he moved them in and out.

Mary squirmed, whimpering in frustration. She bucked against him. “Rogan, please.” Her arm caught his shoulder, and she pulled hard, trying with all her might to move him fully atop her.

He knew she wanted to feel his weight. Wanted to feel him inside her.

Her desire was his undoing.

He withdrew his wet fingers and leaned back from her, releasing the two buttons that restrained him. His erection sprang forth.

Her gaze fell upon him, and her eyes widened for several moments. Then she calmed and raised her hand.

He expected her to reach out to him, but instead, she curled her fingers around his hardness and stroked him firmly as he moved between her knees.

He gasped a breath of surprise. “Where did you learn that maneuver, from that book you’ve been carrying around with you?”

Mary smiled wickedly up at him. “Well, of course. It’s all about river sickness, dysentery, and seeping infections-oh, and of course how to seduce a duke.”

“Say anything about how best to seduce a goddess?”

“Not a word.”

“Then I fear I shall have to learn through a lot of trial and error.” He cast her a wicked grin, then peered down at the porcelain, satiny skin of her thighs. He nudged them farther apart, wanting to sheath himself deep inside her that very instant.

Abruptly, his gaze shifted to her face. Her expression was that of an innocent, and he remembered that despite her passionate nature, she was inexperienced in the ways of making love.

But then, though he had lain with too many women to remember, so was he.

Until this night, he had never been with a woman he loved.

And he truly did love her.

The backs of his eyes began to sting with the naked realization of his feelings for her. For the first time in his life, he felt what it meant to be in love.

Love.

The Black Duke was in love.

And, as his eyes met hers, he knew, with every fiber and sinew of his being, that she loved him too.

“Rogan, I want you,” she gasped, sliding her fingers faster against him as she guided him between her legs. “I don’t want to wait.”

Damn it all. Not like this.

Not like last time, her first time.

He had to do this slowly, gently, even though his bollocks already tightened in anticipation.

He watched her face intently as he touched her with one finger where she was most sensitive. He felt her thighs tighten against his knees as she reflexively sought to close her legs.

Once again, he touched her softly. His finger circled the bit of flesh, gradually pressing harder, moving faster.

Mary’s eyes closed. She turned her head to the side and bit down into her full lower lip.

Yes, this is what he wanted for her. And more. Much more.

His finger circled faster, as he slowly rose up on his knees and leaned back, then lowered his mouth between her quivering legs.

She gasped and reached down to his head as if to pull him away to stop him. Her fingers entwined in his hair as he lapped at her.

He eased his fingers into the tightness of her, and she moaned and instinctively pressed him harder against her. He slowly drove his fingers into her depths, making her writhe with mindless pleasure as he flicked his slick tongue against her.

“Rogan, please. Please. No more. I want you.” Her voice was husky with want.

Eager to oblige, he pushed up on his hands. He had grown almost painfully hard, and he throbbed with his own need for her.

He bent his elbows and pressed a kiss to her belly. She wrapped her hands around his neck and led him higher, letting him kiss her ribs.

Higher still to suckle her breasts. And then, she brought him to her mouth.

He pressed a hand down in the grass beside her shoulder and supported his weight as he reached down with his other hand and positioned his hardness between her folds.

Rogan stroked her with his firm, plum-shaped tip, wetting it with her essence. Then he lifted her bottom and slid into her.

She sighed, and her eyes widened as her body accepted him slowly, but surely.

He paused, feeling her muscles tighten around him as he sank deeper into her. He squeezed his eyes closed and fought the incredible urge to take her hard, take her fast.

Mary raised her hips. She wanted to feel him deeper inside of her. Rogan groaned and thrust into her, slowly, steadily.

She slipped her hands under his arms, wrapped them around his back and squeezed him tight.

Harder. Faster. Deeper.

In a move that surprised him, Mary raised her knee and hooked her leg around his back. She jerked her leg hard and buried him deep within her.

Her muscles cinched around him. He could wait no longer.

Rising up on his hands, he slammed into the searing heat of her. Tiny whimpers of pleasure fell from her mouth as he pumped her again and again.

She cried out his name, and his body tensed and released.

He kissed her, and as he settled his head in the crook of her neck, he thought he heard her say something…but no, she could not have said that.

It would be too much to hope.

But she kissed his ear and whispered again.

“I love you, Rogan.”

The next morning, Mary awoke to find herself alone in the giant’s bed. Or rather, her soon-to-be husband’s bed. She smiled in her bliss.

Maybe someday soon they would actually use a bed for something other than sleeping. But until then, there were always gardens and carriages. Mary chuckled to herself.

They were as good as married already anyway.

Why, they’d had a ceremony, albeit an illegal one, attended by family and friends. The marriage had already been consummated. And she had the ring.

Smiling, Mary held up her left hand to look at it.

But the ring wasn’t there.

Blast!

A tremor raced through her, and she sprang from the bed and tore back the sheets and coverlet.

She shook the pillows and tossed them on the floor while she searched the mattress.

Oh, God, she couldn’t find it anywhere! How could it have come off? She’d tugged on it for two days, and it would not be removed.

Why now, when she would need it at any time?

Then it struck her. The garden. It must have slipped off in the grass last night.

Clad only in her chemise, Mary raced down the staircase, down the center passage, and into the bright courtyard.