Finally, she broke against him, crying out his name. He kissed the inside of her thigh before he pulled out from under her skirts. He was rock hard still but somehow completely satisfied. “Are you done worrying about whether you’re a woman of passion?”
“What?” she asked, looking down at him where he still knelt on the hard stone.
“You were concerned that it wasn’t possible for you to finish? Have I answered your question?”
“Oh yes,” she answered, combing her fingers through his hair. “Though you’ve created several more questions.”
“Such as?” he asked, cocking his head to the side to study her.
She shook her head. “Was it better or worse when I didn’t understand?”
“Why would it be worse?” he asked, slowly rising until he could capture her mouth with his own. She was soft and so pliant under him that her next words caught him completely off guard.
“I wasn’t supposed to want you. Not like this.”
Chapter Five
Cassandra was likely going to hell. She wasn’t certain she cared.
In the early days of her marriage, she did. She’d resisted any passion that rose between her and John. Not that it had been difficult. Their interludes were few and far between and when they did happen, they were over before they’d hardly begun.
But even when he did manage to stir a flutter of want, she’d pushed her feelings back down. Their relationship was about his care, his needs, not hers. And besides, hadn’t she learned that desire was sin?
So she’d carefully tucked away any feelings of passion. She’d not allowed John’s touch to affect her.
They had been nothing like this all-consuming pleasure she’d just experienced.
She’d known being the duke’s mistress would be a sin. But to allow him such liberties and to like them…
She supposed she’d known he’d teach her about carnal pleasure. She just hadn’t expected it to be so…overwhelming. And so incredible.
“Passion is a natural and healthy occurrence between consenting adults.”
She believed him. Mostly. “I suppose I can see the function it performs with a married couple. A lack of lust can tear two people apart.”
He looked down at her, his face hidden in shadow. “Is that how it was in your marriage?”
She nodded. “I’m afraid so.” She reached up and scrubbed her face with her hands. “But try to understand, I wasn’t supposed to want him. We weren’t supposed to…”
He reached for her cheeks, pushing her hands aside and cupping her face in his. “You’re a vicar’s daughter. I should have known.”
She bit her lip, trying to read his face. She’d sat through endless sermons on sins of the flesh. Both in the pews of the church and more personal lectures delivered by her father as she’d grown older. “Don’t misunderstand. I don’t believe my father either. His assertion that passion is a sin and that I should only endure my husband’s touch.” She shuddered. “I tried it his way. And…” She looked away. “But to enter a relationship with you outside of wedlock is different. What we just did…it must be wrong.”
“Why is that?” he asked, leaning closer.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “It, it felt so good.”
He chuckled, low and deep. “It did.”
She shook her head. “Can I confess to you that I’ve been afraid to marry again?”
“Why?” he whispered, his hands massaging down her neck.
“For all the reasons we’ve already discussed. I don’t want to disappoint…”
He grimaced, shaking his head. “You married a sick man who wished for passion from you but couldn’t give it in return. That sounds doomed to fail.”
His words soothed a bit of her hurt. And she appreciated them greatly, just as she would remember this time in the garden forever. What had happened between them had been magical. “And a short relationship with a duke will be a success?”