Devil in Duke's Clothing (Royal Pains Book 1) (6 page)

She regarded him and his manly bits with a wary eye. “Would that not qualify as idolatry in the eyes of our Lord?”

“Only if you put my cock before God, which, though understandable, is probably unwise.”

That got a small laugh out of her as she came down on the bed beside him, gaze fixed on the false idol betwixt his legs.

“May I touch it?”

“Oh, aye. Touch it, stroke it, suck it, lick it. Slap it senseless if it pleases you to do so.”

She swept her fingertips over the head and down the shaft, sending sensual tremors through his body.

“Tell me the names of the parts.”

“Very well.” Her caresses scrambled his brain, undermining his concentration. “The head is called the glans. The part resembling a column is the shaft and the bag underneath is the scrotum. Inside the sack dwell the testicles or gonads. These produce a man’s seed or sperm. During orgasm, the seed is released and—”

“Orgasm?”

She’d clearly never heard the word before. Not surprising, given her upbringing. The sisters of St. Teresa would not know an orgasm if it bit them in the—well, the place an orgasm generally bites a woman.

“Aye. It refers to that sublime culminating moment when ecstasy takes flight through your being on a thousand blissful wings.”

She drew closer, bent over his lap, and set her forefinger over the hole in the tip of his glans. “What do you call this?”

“The
urethral meatus
.”

“Is this from whence your seed sprouts forth?”

“Aye. ‘Tis also the outlet for urination.”

She pulled back and made a face. “And you want me to put my mouth on it?”

“Aye, lass.” He grinned. “But fret not. The Romans used urine to brush their teeth, so there are benefits to the exercise beyond giving me pleasure.”

“Whiter teeth aside, I’d prefer you had a good wash before I put my mouth upon the spout you piss from.”

“I did wash, Maggie. Though I must confess, I did not expect you to fellate me. Not the first time I bed you, leastwise.”

She regarded his erection like a villain, which might have dampened his libido were he not so eager to be inside her. The deflowering part of the program he could do without, but there was no way around it.

He’d had plenty of whores, but never a virgin, primarily because he could not see the attraction of depriving a lass of her maidenhead for no better reason than to be the first to do so. Women were not mountains to be climbed and flagged.

Many of the brothels he frequented in London and Edinburgh auctioned off to their regulars the chance to claim the hymens of new recruits—usually before a crowd of onlookers. He’d never seen the virtue of this custom. Why pay extra for a lass who would neither participate nor enjoy herself?

“Is something amiss?”

Her question brought him back to the moment. While lost in thought, his erection had flagged.
 

“No, no. My mind drifted for a moment, but all is well.”

She pushed up on her elbow, looking pensive. “May I ask you something, Robert?”

“Aye, of course. Ask whatever you wish to know.”

“How soon do wish to start a family and how large a family do you have in mind?”

“Not too large and not too soon.” Her pubic curls were silken and springy. “We are young. You are barely eighteen and I am only thirty. There is ample time to enjoy each other before we bring children into the equation. Besides, childbirth will put you at risk, and I do not think I could bear to lose you.”

“True, but what if the plague or pox should carry you off before you conceive an heir?”

“That would be a grave misfortune indeed, but should I die without issue, Hugh would succeed me as duke and do what he must to carry on the bloodline.”

“Since you brought up Hugh…did you send him away because of me?”

“Aye, but not for the reasons you might suppose.”

“Why, then?”

“Well, to put it delicately, Hugh would have pressed you betwixt the pages of a book whilst still a bud, whereas I felt you deserved to bloom.”

Her brow furrowed. “I do not take your meaning.”

He brushed her cheek and looked into her eyes, overwhelmed by affection and yearning. “Let me try to explain it another way. In the engravings you looked through, did you happen to notice any depicting two men together?”

“I confess that I did.” The creases in her forehead deepened. “And they puzzled me exceedingly.”

“Some men prefer to lie with those of their own gender, Rosebud. They’re what’s called
homosexual
.”

Her eyes widened and her face paled. “And Hugh is such a one?”

He brushed a thumb across her lips, as plump as a child’s and petal soft. “Did you never wonder why he made no move to make love to you?”

“I confess I did wonder, but convinced myself he was only behaving honorably.”

Robert took a breath and let it out slowly as he chose his next words. “I will not deign to say otherwise. Whatever else he might be, my brother is an honorable man. I shall only assert that honor might not have been the whole of his reason.”

He did not wish to talk about Hugh, did not want to think the embers of affection for his brother might still burn in her bosom. He wanted her heart to belong to him alone.

“Enough talk,” he said, getting to his knees. “The time has come to seal our vows.”

Hooking her under the armpits, he dragged her to the center of the mattress and laid her out like a sacred oblation—which, indeed, she was. An offering to Venus, the goddess of love whose trickster son had shot him through the heart with one of his golden arrows.
 

Since the day he’d come to her rescue in the woods—four long years—he’d remained remote, feigning disinterest until his feelings grew too strong to be denied. Now the long-coveted object of desire was within reach. But he must keep his head and take care. There would never be another first time, and he wanted it to be memorable for both of them.

With trembling hands, he explored the terrain of her body through the clinging linen of her shift. Though the thin cloth he could make out the rosy caps of her breasts and the golden triangle of curls guarding her maidenhood. It called to him, challenging him to plant his standard and stake his claim. He fought the urge. He would take his time if it killed him. And it bloody well might.

He moved over her and kissed the dusky peak of the nearest mound as he slipped a hand beneath her shift. The downy-soft hair on her silken thighs tickled his fingertips. When he brushed her pubic nest, she twitched at the same moment as his cock.

“Maggie,” he whispered, seeking her gaze, “have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

She looked doubtful. “Do you truly find me so?”

“Aye.” He kissed her cheek. “To me, you are the handsomest woman in all of creation.”

“I find you handsome, too, Your Grace.” Her lip quivered as she spoke the words. “I mean, Robert. But also terrifying.”

“It gladdens me you find me attractive.” He stroked the carpet of curls betwixt her legs. “But why do I frighten you?”

“Because you enjoy giving pain.”

Her words kicked him square in the chest. He leaned over and brushed his lips across hers, thirsty for the ambrosia of her kisses. “I only enjoy giving pain to those who enjoy receiving it.”

“And if I do not,” she said, sounding distraught, “you will take a mistress who does.”

‘Twas not a question. For an innocent, she possessed surprising wisdom. “Let us not spoil the present by dwelling on the future.”

“I want to be your one and only.”

“As do I.” As he kissed his way to her ear, he slipped a finger into her crevice and rubbed her bud. “Tonight, I want only to give you pleasure, Maggie.”
 

He teased her earlobe and clitoris in unison, eliciting from her soft moans that escalated his arousal. Still teasing her bud, he kissed his way down her neck and across her chest to the edge of the linen sheath still shielding her virtues from his view.

“May I take off your shift?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Because of the temperature in the room or modesty?” ‘Twas a fair question, as her nipples were hard.

“Modesty. I’m not yet equal to being naked under your gaze.”

He found her bashfulness at once exasperating and endearing. He kissed his way to the pink peak atop one of her breasts, pushing the linen aside as he went. “What if I only bare a wee bit at a time?”

“I suppose that would be tolerable.”

He licked and sucked her nipple whilst his fingers tested her readiness down below. As badly as his cock ached to penetrate her, she wasn’t nearly wet enough to give accommodation without undue discomfort.

Withdrawing his hand from betwixt her thighs, he slid atop her, pushed up on his arms, and pressed his erection against her pubic bone. He was so bloody hard his cods were throbbing. He’d never taken so much time with a lass and was only getting started.

“Maggie, would it be all right if I pulled up your shift just a wee bit so I can kiss you down there?”

“Yes, but kiss me up here first.”

He was only too happy to oblige her. Lowering himself, he positioned his mouth over hers and licked and nibbled her pouting lower lip. She twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him into a ravening kiss.
 

As their tongues made war, she clawed his scalp and tugged his hair, driving his horses harder.

Oh, aye. There was that vixen he’d sensed beneath her virginal facade. If he could get her to come out and play—roughly—he’d never look at another woman twice.

Still kissing her with passion, he worked his erection into her crevice and rocked it gently against her clit.

She arched her back and pulled his hair hard enough to hurt.

God’s bollox! The thrill of it shot straight to his cods. He had to move, to get off her. If he stayed where he was, he’d penetrate her too soon and spoil everything.

He pushed up on his arms and extracted his hair from her grip.

“Where are you going?”

“Lower. You feel too good.“

He toyed with her nipples, licking and kissing each one in turn, before sucking one into his mouth. As he tugged on it with his lips, she moaned and reared up.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she said. “It felt heavenly.”

Another promising sign.
 

The need to be inside her had grown torturous. He just prayed he’d not climax the moment he submerged into her lush depths.

Continuing his southward migration, he planted tender kisses down her ribs and belly before sliding his body lower. When he encountered the footboard, he lifted her thighs on his shoulders and pushed her upward toward the pillows. Once she’d settled, he ran his tongue along the line of her pubic hair before pressing his lips against her curls. The tempting tang of her juices made his mouth water for a taste. Moving lower, he set his hands on the silken flesh of her inner thighs and twirled the rigid tip of his tongue against her sweet spot.

Her head came up. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

He lifted his gaze, but kept his mouth behind her bush to hide his smile. “Aye, lass. Now lie back and let me show you how wickedly good sexual pleasure can be.”

Returning to his task, he licked, kissed, and suckled the warm, smooth flesh of her vulva whilst relishing its savory fragrance and flavor. Her fingers were back in his hair, twining and pulling. He liked her ardor, her wee noises of pleasure, and her rapid breathing. Mostly, though, he liked knowing no man had been here before him. She was his and his alone to have and to hold from this night forward.

Unless and until— Nay! He would not borrow trouble from the future. Naught could be gained by fretting over what may or may not come to pass. What was done, was done. He would face the consequences if and when he was called to account for his defiance.

He swept his tongue to her entrance and lapped up her juices. Oh, aye. She was ready to be claimed, but first things first. He returned to her bud, closed his lips around the swollen flesh, and gently sucked whilst moving his tongue against the core. Under him, she tensed and twitched as he brought her to orgasm.

“Oh, Robert.”

He glanced up to see her eyes wide and almost frightened. Her body was as taut as a harp string and her face conveyed a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

“What did you just do to me?”

He grinned at her. “I thought you’d given yourself orgasms.”

“Not like that, I haven’t.”

He laughed. “‘Tis even better when my cock’s in you—though perhaps not the first time or two.“

She sighed and lay back. “Better is difficult to imagine.”

He slid a finger inside her vagina to test her tightness. He was no Goliath, but he certainly had enough to cause her pain. She was taut, but also good and slippery. He eased the finger deeper, then added another. She squirmed a wee bit in response.

“Does that hurt you?”

“It does not quite hurt,” she said, wrinkling her nose, “but neither does it feel pleasant.”