To Dare the Duke of Dangerfield (12 page)

When she looked up at him, uncertainty in her eyes. He gathered her closer, the tightness around his heart unexpected.

He found the flat, dry, and very private place where she’d shed her clothes, and lay her reverently down upon them—her beauty, which had long haunted his dreams, displayed for him to see and worship.

“Harlow.” She trembled a little as she breathed his name. She stared into his eyes—her own, liquid pools of emotion, their glowing greenish hue dark with want. And she rose up and feathered little kisses on his chest.

He quivered, breathless with wonder as her silken lips caressed his skin. Caresses so innocently given. He knew with absolute certainty he’d remember this moment for the rest of his life.
 

He ran a shaky hand down one of her long limbs, her firm, damp flesh luscious to the touch. To his surprise she lay back and smiled encouragingly.
 

Her faith in his ability to give her pleasure awed him. He knelt at her feet, suddenly unsure.
 

His fascination with her took him by surprise.
 

He knew the secrets of a woman’s body—none better. But this wasn’t “a woman”. This was Caitlin. This was different. This was important. This was real.

Yes, he wanted her. He wanted to sheath himself deep within her and find heaven. But he also wanted her. Her. He wanted her to… Christ… not just to respect him. He wanted more. He wanted her to admire, to adore… He wanted her to love him.
 

Her finger had been gliding down his torso. Now it halted, shyly, near his rampant arousal, which stood straight and hard against his stomach. Her touch was driving him insane, calling to his blood like a bewitching song.

He could think of nothing else. He had to take her. Claim her. Make her his. Forever.

With real reverence he stroked one hand down her body, tracing the curves of her breast, the indent of waist, the flat plane of her stomach, before sinking his fingers in the soft, black curls at the apex of her thighs. Her legs parted, allowing him access to the treasure within.
 

He hesitated. Gave her one last chance.

“Caitlin, sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life, but if we do this, there is no turning back. Understand? You will marry me. Agreed?”

“Harlow.”

The way she moaned his name was the only permission he needed. He did what he’d dreamed of doing the moment he’d first seen her in trousers. Lifting one tiny foot, he began kissing up her leg. The heady scent of her arousal urged him to rush. But he took his time; she deserved at least that.

Caitlin’s last few nights had been filled with restless dreams. Dreams about Harlow and what it would be like to give herself to him. Reality was so much… more.
 

He looked like a conquering warrior. The living, breathing definition of irresistible.

His massive arousal throbbed against her thigh and her hips twisted, wanting to answer its call. Passion drummed a beat in her brain. She could think of nothing else—no one else—but the man, tenderly pressing kisses up her thigh.

She was lost and drowning in a sea of desire. It was beyond anything she could have imagined. And it was wonderful.

From the moment she’d thought up this hare-brained wager, she’d been determined to resist him. Now she asked herself why? Now there was only the honeyed sweetness of his gaze, the fiery need of his touch, and the fierce primal wanting he had awakened in her.

All her fear about the price she’d pay for this one sweet moment fled as his lips trailed higher up her thigh.

Her breath rasped as he moved to kneel between her parted legs, and when he lifted his head and gazed up her body to meet her eyes, his face was gravely worshipful.
 

“You are an exquisite woman,” he whispered hoarsely. “You will make a fine duchess. I’m honored that you have chosen me as your first, and I promise to make it memorable.”

Her position afforded her a breath-taking view as her warrior leaned down to set her skin ablaze once more. At the touch of his lips, she lay back and half closed her eyes, and put her resistance aside once and for all. Becoming a duchess was no punishment, especially as Mansfield Manor could still be passed to her daughter.

His lips were hot against her damp skin. Anticipation sent a series of tremors ricocheting through her, but it did not prepare her for what he did with his tongue. Gently, he parted her folds and his lips tasted the very heart of her womanhood. His tongue slid through her curls and licked the most intimate part of her, until she could no longer think.

She could not believe that he was kissing her there, let alone that she was
letting
him. It was mortifying, yet at the same time she knew she’d beg him to continue if he tried to stop.

The sensations his clever tongue roused in her made her eyes roll back, her hips lift, and a desperate moan escape her lips.

When he draped one of her legs over his shoulder, opening her wider to his ministrations, her body exploded with need, and want, and desire.
 

Caitlin’s fingers threaded through his curls, tangling in their damp softness as she clutched his head, urging him closer.
 

She hovered on an airy precipice, her soul teetering on the edge of nothingness. The sensations overwhelmed her and she heard herself cry out his name. “Oh, Harlow. Oh, God.”
 

Her limbs went taut, her body shook, and she felt as if she were losing her mind to the pleasure. Then his wicked tongue entered her and she spasmed, and plunged over the edge, writhing against his mouth, her fingers clutching his hair in the sweet, amazing tide of her release.

She was still humming with the joy of it when he began to move up her body.

“Beautiful. You are so beautiful,” he whispered, as he reached her mouth.
 

She reached for him, and slid her palms slowly up his muscled biceps to his shoulders. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. “That was incredible.”

He smiled and brushed her lips with a kiss so tender she wanted to weep. “There is more. So much more.”

“Is there?” How could there be more than perfection?

“Yes.” He nuzzled her nose with his own. “Don’t be nervous, darling. You won’t regret this, I promise.”

She didn’t.

His hand glided over her body until she was a quivering mess. His mouth followed, first to her throat, where her pulse hammered. He claimed her neck in deep, open-mouthed kisses, nipping her delicate skin until goose-bumps rose on her arms. His mouth trailed lower, leaving not an inch of her breasts unexplored. They were not very big, but he seemed to enjoy suckling them.
 

She certainly enjoyed it. When a deep moan escaped her she felt him smile against her skin. She gasped as his finger found the hardened nub of her womanly centre, still pulsing from his previous loving.
 

“So wet for me,” he whispered, sliding his fingers inside her, stretching her, preparing her for his entry.

He eased down onto her, settling heavy between her thighs, all hard muscle and leashed passion. Almost drunk with desire, and with the roughness of his sculptured chest abrading her aching breasts, she trembled, yearning as she clung to him, moaning a little at the depth and rising urgency of his kisses. Her hips rose with shocking wantonness, caressing his hardness trapped between their bodies. He groaned into her mouth and drove his pelvis hungrily against hers as their tongues mated.
 

“I have to have you now.” He quivered like a lusty stallion.
 

She pulled back a little and looked into his storm-colored eyes, their grey a darkening tempest against the brilliant sunshine above.
 

She knew her acquiescence was a gamble. Her heart was in play, and the damage if it were lost far surpassed that of her house. But when he smiled down at her, his body thrumming in the same way as hers, she knew she did this without regret. She’d never been more ready for anything in her life.

“Make love to me, Harlow.”
 

It was all the encouragement he needed.
 

He took her face between his hands and slid his tongue deep within her mouth, stroking until her body trembled with rapture, begging to have him inside her.

He guided his erection to her entrance and touched her pleasure centre with his fingertip as he edged slowly and tenderly into her tightness. She could see the control it took for him to go slow, to press into her, to claim her, inch by careful inch.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he rasped through gritted teeth. “I can stop.”

Her only answer was to bend her knees so he could sink deeper within her and run her hands down his body, enthralled by each flowing ridge of powerful muscle.

He halted, breathing hard. “Relax, Caitlin,” he said. Then he smothered her in fevered kisses and surged deep within her, tearing the only barrier left between them.

She gasped through the pain. It hurt. And he felt so large within her.
 

He stilled. “I’m sorry, love,” he said, and caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Are you all right?”

She pressed a kiss to his chest where it glistened in the sunshine with a fine sheen of sweat, and nodded. She lay swamped in sensations; the feel of the lean, hard length of him was intoxicating. She closed her eyes while he nuzzled her cheek and stroked her breasts, arousing her to a new fever pitch.

Then he moved. Rising above her on muscled arms he slowly withdrew from her body, and then slid back in.
 

The pleasure was exquisite. Her head fell back and her moans mingled with the breeze and the bird song.
 

He began to move with more purpose; deep, slow strokes full of leashed male power and tenderness.

Her hips rose to meet his, desperate for the reward she knew he would give her. He took her mouth in a searing kiss, riding urgently between her thighs, their bodies in complete contact, one in every way. Her hands glided down and gripped his buttocks, willing him closer, deeper, more...

She dug her nails into his flesh, and he groaned into her mouth. “God, Caitlin, I can’t last much longer. You’re so tight, so hot, so perfect...”

He bowed back, slipping his hand between their joined bodies, seeking her centre. At his expert caress she screamed out her mindless pleasure as she, once again dived from the precipice into the brilliant lights of release. His thrusts grew in pressure and the cords of his neck tightened. He stroked deep within her and continued to pleasure her hardened nub with his thumb.

“Come again for me, with me, Caitlin. Look into my eyes. I want to feel it with you, be with you in the moment.”

She didn’t think she could take any more pleasure but he spasmed above her, gave an almighty groan, and thrust into her again and again, his own violent climax prolonging the exquisite shudders racking her body. She tumbled from bliss into ecstasy, calling out his name as he shouted hers.

He collapsed on her, gasping hard, ragged breaths beside her ear.
 

Caitlin had no strength to hold him. She was still floating amid a million stars. She came back down to earth slowly, loving the weighty feel of him pressing her into the flattened reeds. Lifting her hand, she drew sweeping circles on his back, contentment like none she’d ever known wrapping around her.
 

“That was beautiful,” she whispered.

Harlow turned his head and gave her a tousled, heart-skipping smile. “I had no idea it could be like that.”

She laughed. “I have nothing to compare it to but I know it was wonderful. Magical.”

“I swear it was magical.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss into her palm.
 

They lay content, looking into each other’s eyes. Neither one wanting to leave.

Finally Caitlin said, “I suppose being married to a man who can worship me like this every day won’t be too unbearable.”

He winked. “If you’re lucky, mayhap I’ll worship you like this twice or several times a day.”

Chapter Eight

Several
times? A
day
? Surely he was joking.

“In fact, if this wasn’t your first time, I’d likely ravish you all over again—as soon as I’d caught my breath.” He rolled to his side, pulling her with him and hugging her to his chest.
 

Under her cheek his heart thudded like the hooves of a galloping horse. It made her think of
Ace of Spades
as he flew past his competition… There would be no need for that race now. Marriage to Dangerfield had more than one reward.
 

“You know,” she rubbed her cheek against the heavy muscle of his chest. “When this silly wager started, I never considered for one moment that I’d keep Mansfield Manor for my daughter by marrying you.”