When the Earl Met His Match (Wedded by Scandal 4)

Awareness blossomed through her and her lips parted in wonder. Control was very important to her husband. All those nights he had kissed her, and when their passion had burned around them, he would always pull away, the hands braced above her head trembling. A few deep breaths later, his kisses would change, and then he would hold her in his arms, and they slept.

She had been wondering how to seduce him when every night after kissing her endlessly he would disappear to the lake. She would sit at the window and watch him swim, admiring his body but lacking the courage to follow him. The one night she had drummed up the nerve and went down there had once again turned into them laughing and romping as if they were loons.

After she’d dipped her toe into the water and yelped at the coldness, he had hauled himself from the water with a dare in his eyes. She had shrieked and sprinted away, knowing he was chasing her. He had caught her in the hallway and flung her over his shoulder and made his way to their bedroom. Though her heart had pounded with such anticipation, he had only kissed her forehead before bundling her under the sheets, then joined her.

She tested his limits, threatened the icy clasp he had on his feelings.

I make you lose control. “Our first time will be like this,” she said softly. “I want the real you in my bed, making me burn with pleasure.”

His eyes darkened, and he could only stare at her.

“If you will admit it…we’ve had each other already.”

A flush mounted on his cheek, and he stepped back one more step. Phoebe ran to him in a few steps and jumped. Shock flared in his gaze, but he caught her effortlessly, and she scandalously wrapped her legs around his hips, uncaring dress and pelisse had ridden up to her thighs and her stocking-clad legs and half boots were on display. Now they were face to face.

“Every night you’ve been running from me to the lake, trying to drown the images in your mind of taking me. In your thoughts you are not controlled, are you, my husband?” She nipped the corner of his lips. “You ravish me. And the desperate hunger that fills you scares you.”

He shook his head slowly, as if in a daze.

“You cannot deny it, for I know it because I too have had you,” she whispered, right at his ear.

A powerful quake went through him.

“Shall I tell you how I’ve had you, husband? How many nights in my thoughts you’ve kissed more than my lips…how many nights I’ve imagined that you kissed all over my body to that aching heart of me. Shall I tell you how many nights you’ve climbed atop me and pushed my nightgown to my hips and entered my body? Shall I tell you in my dreams I’ve sobbed from the delight of it even though I have never experienced such a pleasure?”

His chest rose and fell, and the hands gripping her hips tightened almost painfully.

A wave of heat rushed through her, and though she blushed frightfully, Phoebe continued. “I’ve had you in my dreams…every night since the first time you kissed me.” She kissed the corner of his mouth then bit on his bottom lip tenderly before peering into his eyes. “Show me…tonight…now…show me all the ways you have taken me. Claim me as yours.”

Chapter Fifteen

To Phoebe’s shock, Hugh lowered her to the ground almost violently. Then he grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the main house in the far distance. She wasn’t sure what she had hoped for with her sensual taunting, but it wasn’t this. Swallowing down the knot of uncertainty in her belly, she instead directed her thoughts on the excitement tha

t still thrummed in her veins.

No words were spoken as they walked for several long, pulse-pounding minutes, hand in hand to the main house. Anticipation enlivened her blood, and her heart was like the roar of the ocean in her ears. The butler opened the door before they could even knock, and Phoebe fought to keep the blush from her cheeks when Hugh swung her into his arms once they crossed the threshold.

With a squeak of mortification, she buried her face in his throat, quite aware of the butler’s astonished stare before he snapped his head forward and away from them. This drew a giggle from her, and it reassured her greatly when his lips touched her forehead in the barest, softest hint of a caress.

He climbed the stairs effortlessly with her clasped against his chest, and he did not lower her to the ground until he had entered their room. Their bedsheets were turned down, a lamp had been lit, and a fire roared in the hearth, shaving away the chill of the night.

He did not lift his fingers to speak to her, and nervousness had knotted her tongue. Hugh took her hands and led her closer to the fire but stopped them in the center of the palatial room. He brushed the wild tangles of her hair from her face, pushing strands behind her ears. Then he untied her coat, went behind her, and eased it from her shoulders.

Phoebe’s heart gave a patter in warning.

He dropped her coat to the carpet, and Phoebe stared at him wordlessly when he came back around, lowered to his knees, and removed her boots. Shock jerked through her as she realized he was undressing her. Her gaze jumped to the bed and then to the top of his head. “Hugh…I…”

He glanced up, and her words strangled at the intensity in his gaze. Show me, she had urged wickedly, and now the moment was upon her, a fine trembling cascaded through her body.

“I have been waiting for this…for you,” she breathed.

His eyes darkened, and his fingers lifted from her shin. “Every day I have hungered for you, Phoebe. Every day it was a torture not to take you.”

The tension thickened, and her heart jerked so fiercely, she felt weak. He resumed his duties and removed her boots fully. His fingers coasted up her shin to the garters holding up her stockings. He rolled them off, one by one.

He stood and shrugged from his jacket then his waistcoat. With a sense of shock, Phoebe realized he would remove all his clothes here…right now.

She curled her toes into the carpet. “I…I have never seen a naked man before,” she blurted.