The Last Duchess (The Lennox Series)(68)

He was still in his coat. She was still in her boots. He was correct. It made it all somehow enormously erotic and as she watched him begin to lose his control, she felt her body take on a mind of its own, her back arching from the bed, bringing her center ever closer to his, delicious waves of pleasure thrumming through her. As her climax slowed, he found his own and his head went back, his eyes closed and he groaned. She felt the pulsing of him within and smiled her pleasure.

What a wondrous thing to make love with him.

He was still buried within her body, both of them breathing rapidly and heavily, when a knock came at the door.

Jane’s eyes widened in horror.

Blixford chuckled as he withdrew, stepped back and reached for her hand. In one smooth movement, she was upright, her skirts covering her, once again. He quickly did up his breeches then called out, “Come.”

She hastened to the window, hoping to appear as though she were merely enjoying the view of the wilderness through the large panes of glass, instead of catching her breath and forcing her legs not to shake. Listening to the sounds of the servants laying out the bath, the rush of water, the clang of metal against metal, the duke’s softly spoken instructions, she felt the trickle of him as it made its way down her inner thigh and stopped at her garter. Good heavens. How could something like that make her smile like a cat in the canary cage? She was surely low and common to find such pleasure in him, such delight with him in her.

At last, the servants were gone and they were alone again. He came up behind and circled her with his arms, tugging until she rested her back against his chest and belly. His mouth moved close to her ear. “You’re embarrassed, Duchess?”

“No, merely thoughtful.”

“I’d attempt to read your thoughts, but you don’t play fair, keeping your face averted toward the window. Mayhap you’ll simply tell me what you’re thinking?”

She did, feeling as though she might say anything to him at the moment. “I recall you seemed put off by my response to you in the library, all those years ago. I hope you won’t find cause to disapprove of my enjoyment in you now. It would make the entire process lose a bit of its luster.”

His response was slow in coming. Finally, he murmured, “Has it luster, then, Jane?”

“I’m fascinated with you, and anticipate what is yet to come.”

He turned her to face him and his look was sober. “I assure you, at no time in our lives will I ever disapprove of anything we do in privacy. It’s my hope that you will always be comfortable, relaxed, not shy, and well satisfied. A man may find his pleasure with fair ease. It’s not always so for women, and you have to tell me what it is you want or need.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “It gives me the greatest pleasure to give you pleasure, and in no way do I disapprove of your enjoyment.”

She felt another drop of liquid as it slid down her leg and she smiled, ducking her head to rest it against his shoulder.

“You’re grinning. Why?”

Looking up to meet his eyes, she blushed furiously. “You’ll think me low and common.”

“Doubtful.”

Raising up, she moved her mouth close to his ear and whispered the cause of her amusement. “Isn’t it shocking to find such a thing so tantalizing?”

His answer was not in words, but action; his arms crushed her against him, his big hands splayed across her back. He held her so close she lost a bit of her breath.

“You’re not shocked?”

He made an odd sound, deep in his throat, and it was a while before he murmured, “No, not shocked. Not at all.”

Jane began to wonder if he would hold her like this until the room was completely dark of daylight and illuminated only with the cheery fire in the grate. The sun was set, but the room was still lit with dusk.

How strange was his reaction. He made that odd sound again and she could only wonder at his thoughts. It would appear she’d moved him in some way, though she was at a loss why what she’d said could be considered touching in the slightest.

Men were very strange, she decided. Fascinating, sometimes wonderful, sometimes not, but decidedly strange.

At long last, he released her and turned away toward the bath, a copper tub, just the size for one. “Would you care to be first, Jane? I’ll be gallant and soap your back.” He glanced at her and waggled his eyebrows.

Laughing, she nodded. “Very well. I suppose, this being our wedding night, we’ll dispense with my maid and your valet’s services?”

“I think it best. You’re mine for the evening and I will gladly play lady’s maid to you.” He shot a glance at his breeches. “I daresay you’ll do adequately well as valet, considering how quickly you divested me of my fastenings.”