To Dare the Duke of Dangerfield (18 page)

She lay back in her shift and stockings and devoured him with hungry eyes. When he stood naked beside the bed, she rose onto her hands and knees and crawled to the edge of the bed to press kisses all over his chest. Then she pulled herself up, wound her arms around his neck, and kissed him full on the mouth.
 

When she’d finished devouring his mouth, she pulled back and said, “I see all of you, Harlow.” She felt his manhood pulse against her stomach, and he gave a growl. “I hear you, Your Grace.” Her hand slid down to stroke him and his breath hissed from between his clenched teeth. “I feel you, husband.” She ran her nose over his skin. “I have always been able to scent you, my love.” Then—feeling wicked—she lowered her head. “And I will die if I don’t taste you.” And she took him into her mouth.
 

His deep moan filled the room.

She’d loved making love to him when she was blind because, even without sight, it was easy to tell that he was enjoying it. But nothing prepared her for being able to watch him, and pleasure him like this. As she licked, and suckled, taking him deep within her mouth, she watched him, her eyes locked on his face.
 

His features hardened into a mask of passion. The cords of his neck tightened, and his hands wound into her hair. His mouth opened. His breath became ragged. His hips began to rock, pushing him further, deeper into her mouth. She knew he was about to come when his eyes closed and his head fell back. His hands dug into her scalp and his whole body trembled.
 

“Christ. Caitlin. Oh God, I’m going to...” And then with a series of jerks and a roar, he flooded her mouth with the very essence of him.
 

She drank him down.
 

He fell forward tumbling her backwards onto the bed. She savored the heavy feel of him as she licked her lips. He tasted divine. “Now I truly know all of you.”

Dangerfield knew he was a man blessed to have such a woman as his wife. He would never have believed he could be this lucky—or this happy. “I love you, my Duchess.”

She sighed in his arms, content to cuddle into his side.

“Now,” he said. “It’s my turn to see,”—he flipped her over and stripped her of her shift—“feel,”—he commenced a leisurely exploration of her body with his hands—“and taste,” his tongue probed the soft contours of her mouth as if he was willing to spend all day savoring her like fine cuisine.
 

She broke off their kiss. “We have to be downstairs soon.”

He spread her thighs with his knees, and her hips tilted in unmistakable invitation. “It’s our wedding day. We can be as late as we wish.”
 

On the word “wish”, he sank into her welcoming heat, determined that no matter how late their arrival downstairs, she’d have a loving she’d never forget.

Like a true partner, her body automatically moved with him, her need building with his. She wrapped her legs around his hips and let him drive deeper into her. Their bodies strove in unison. Locked, heated and slick.
 

As the flames of desire grew, so did her cries.
 

“I hear you, my wife,” he growled, and with one final stroke they both tumbled into mind-numbing delight, and incandescent sensations of pleasure.

When, at last, they lay spent in each other’s arms, and Harlow felt the last of Caitlin’s spasms fade, her breathing slow, happiness flooded him.
 

He took her tiny hand in his. “I’ve never felt this content. It must be because I’m making love with my wife. I’m truly happy. I don’t think I could get any happier.”

She rolled onto her side to him. She ran her little finger over his chest. “I will bet you a ride on
Hero
that I could make you happier.”

“Christ, woman. I’m not letting you ride
Hero
.”

“Chicken?”

“Even your delectable charms couldn’t work on me after our second bout of lovemaking. Since the appendage belongs to me, I think I’m pretty safe taking that bet.” And he slid his feet off the bed and onto the floor.
 

“I’m with child.”

He froze. Then he looked back over his shoulder and saw the happiness, joy, and pride in his wife’s eyes. A slow smile curved his lips.
 

With a hoot of joy he pulled her to him and kissed her possessively, tumbling her back onto the bed. “You’re not riding,
Hero
. Especially now you’re with child.”

“I don’t want to ride your beast.” She patted her belly. “I was simply proving a point. You don’t get to win all the bets, all of the time.”

“Where would be the fun in that?”

It was true. He could live with losing the odd bet. He could live with her, and their children, and be exceedingly happy.
 

He loved, with a consuming passion, the woman who’d dared the Duke of Dangerfield.

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If you liked my novella about Harlow and Caitlin, look out for Marcus’s story coming April 2012

To Wager the Marquis of Wolverstone

Visit my website for more info

www.bronwenevans.com

Now for a BONUS

Read excerpts from my other Regency romances in the INVITATION TO series

INVITATION TO SCANDAL
 

and
 

INVITATION TO RUIN

Read on…

INVITATION TO SCANDAL – 1 May 2012

Excerpt...

Once inside the dark and shadowy stables, Rufus walked deliberately towards her. She tried to move out of his way but she wasn’t quick enough and Rheda soon found herself up against the stable wall. Rufus’s voice was soft and sensual, calling to her. “Men too, can tell when a woman is ripe for the taking.”

Rheda found her gaze riveted on his lips. Her heart began to pound in her chest. Her eyes swept across the rest of his face and froze at the expression that greeted her. He had gone quite still. There was soft fire in his eyes and his gaze held her spellbound.

He reached up and slid his fingers behind her nape. Her breathing faltered altogether. Then shockingly, he lowered his mouth to meet hers in a feather light contact.

Once again she was immersed in a rush of sensation at the exquisite caress. His lips were warm and firm, yet enticingly soft at the same time – and much too tempting.

Stifling a gasp, Rheda pressed her palms against his chest and pulled back her reeling head. “I am not a mare to be taken on your whim.”

“So you admit you want to be taken, it is only a matter of when.”

Anger flared, dousing her desire. She shoved him away from her, and moved away from the wall. To her disappointment he did not even try to stop her. She stood breathing hard looking at his strong face, arresting and strikingly handsome in the dim stable light. He had a beautiful mouth, his lips were chiseled and generous and they curved now in a knowing smile as he returned her regard.

“You are delusional,” she scathingly stated.

“You have no idea what you are missing, sweetheart. Unlike animals, people experience passion.”

“I am sure you would know.”

He approached across the stable floor. Her legs were shaking too much to move away. He stood so close her breasts almost brushed his chest, but he did not touch her. “But do you know? Have you ever been so caught up in passion you forgot yourself?” His voice became husky. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

She was trapped by the fire in his eyes. Rufus bent towards her and his warm breath caressed her mouth. Rheda was powerless to move. His hand cupped the back of her head. He drew her close and his other arm encircled her waist, pulling her roughly against his solid form. She was swamped by the strength and power of the man, yet not afraid. His lips began to play over hers with exquisite pressure. This kiss was slow and erotic and extremely thorough. Parting her lips, his tongue slid into her mouth, creating an intense yearning inside her.

The effect of his kiss had her reaching to grip his shoulders. His lips deepened the kiss, his tongue penetrating and swirling in her mouth, stroking her desire. The heady sensation he roused was addictive.
 

She could not resist letting him continue.
 

Not when he was assailing her mouth with such silken roughness… molding, tasting, teasing and ultimately conquering. All her senses felt pummeled as his tongue worked its magic provocatively against hers, playing a game she desperately wanted to win but the winning strategy escaped her knowledge. Her body pushed hard against him and a small moan of surrender escaped her lips.

In response, his kiss only deepened.

She raised her hand to his dark chestnut locks. They felt amazingly thick and silky. His hand that had been holding her head slid down her shoulder, and moved to where the square décolletage of her dress exposed the pale skin above her breasts.

She was unprepared for the explosion of feeling that swept her body when his knuckles skimmed the upper swells of her breasts. She gasped against his mouth but he kept on kissing her, arousing with firm tender stokes of his tongue, slowly driving, deliciously plundering.

She wanted to move closer, to climb right in him and take that which had been denied her for so long. He shifted and through her skirts she felt the pressure of his sinewy thigh against her femininity. At the same time his hand moved lower to mould and cup her aching breast.

Her moan was decidedly audible within the quiet of the stable, but she was beyond caring as the feverish surge of pleasure overwhelmed her. When his fingertips discovered her nipple through her bodice, fire streaked through her limbs, flooding her veins with shuddering heat.

She could feel the wildness stirring in her blood. It clamored for this captivating man’s erotic assault on her senses. He was driving her mad, encouraging her response and taking her to a place she longed to go.

He was seducing her. And she was content to let him.

Yet, it was his tenderness that stunned her the most. She could feel how he was holding back his own strength and needs. Needs? She could feel the hard, extremely large evidence of his arousal against her stomach. Merciful heaven, what was she doing? A desperate voice protested in her head, more was dangerous.

He was dangerous.
 

Danger had never been more tantalizing.

Rufus lifted his mouth from hers. He struggled to get his breathing under control. “See what you do to me, Rheda? I’m as eager as my stallion.”
 

“I’m not doing anything to you. From what little I know of your reputation you’d be eager for any woman. You are merely trying to seduce me.”

“Yes. I am,” he admitted, “and it’s working.”

He caught her blink of surprise at his admission and boast. She cut her gaze away, and he stood mesmerized by the swallow of her throat. “Your touch… it does excite me.” She turned to look into his eyes. “But a seasoned rake such as you knows that. The signs are there for your senses to see and feel.”

Rufus shook his head to clear it of his driving need to possess her. He could take her, here and now. He knew it and the beauty before him knew it too. Yet, he felt dissatisfied. Where was the honor in her surrender? He was too skilled for her to resist and having seen the primal mating of the horses her blood was stirred.

Yet, he had to push her. Had to try and break down her resolve. He would not make love to her here even though his body hurt from his restraint. He wanted the first time with Rheda to be in a bed – his bed. Not in a stable reeking of manure and horses. He wanted to take his time, overwhelm her with pleasure and ensure she fell completely under his thrall.

He would enslave her body. Make her crave his touch. Make her lose her mind in pleasure. Then perhaps she’d be more pliable. Perhaps she’d do anything to share his bed again, including letting her guard down and giving him what he really wanted - information.
 

The only problem was that each time he kissed her, what he wanted changed. Metamorphosed into something dangerous. Retrieving much needed intelligence began to diminish as his desire to claim her rose to a crescendo beating loudly through his veins.

He lifted his hand and stroked the back of his knuckles along her cheek.

Her sweep of fair lashes lowered, fanning across her warm skin.