Marcus Wilding: Duke of Pleasure (Dangerous Dukes 1)

A cold and painful introduction to the marriage bed.

And John’s member had been nowhere near as—as long as Marcus’s, or as thick, meaning it would surely take more than just their mutual arousal in order for Marcus to penetrate her without causing that same pain.

But Marcus had not expressed a wish to penetrate her. By showing her these things, teaching her, he was merely fulfilling his part of the blackmail she had practiced upon him, nothing more. This blatant evidence of his arousal was how any man would react to having a young woman fondling him so intimately.

Julianna released him abruptly before sitting back, only to stare down in fascination as that hard shaft pulsed eagerly upward while more liquid escaped the glistening bulbous tip.

‘He is asking for more,’ Marcus drawled ruefully, reluctantly refastened his pantaloons as he realized, as far as Julianna was concerned, this particular ‘lesson’ was over and he would have to deal with the results of that lesson himself once Julianna had gone.

‘“He”?’ Julianna echoed curiously.

Marcus nodded. ‘Most men refer to their genitalia as a separate entity—probably because it has a will, a determination, completely separate from the logic of a man’s brain!’

Which meant it was only Marcus’s cock that had just reacted to her touch, Julianna accepted heavily, not Marcus himself. No doubt it could penetrate her, too, take its pleasure, and feel none of the regret in the act the man—Marcus—most assuredly would. Because, she reminded herself fiercely, Marcus was only doing these things, allowing these intimacies, because she had forced him into it. He did not care for her personally, had no real interest in making love to her. And he was probably longing to be rid of both her and her ridiculous demand to be taught how to make love to a man.

Julianna, on the other hand, had realized these past few days how much she desired Marcus in particular.

Not just desired him but loved him.

Had she always loved him?

Certainly since the night of her eighteenth birthday, when he had danced the waltz with her at Alma

ck’s, flirted with her, flattered her, before returning to his regiment just days later to resume fighting against Napoleon’s army. Julianna had mooned about for weeks afterwards, foolishly hoping that night had meant something to Marcus, too. That he might have fallen in love with her.

Foolish, foolish hopes that had ended in heartbreak and hurt pride once she’d learnt that Marcus had rejoined his regiment without so much as speaking with her again. It was that same injured pride that had caused her to then accept Lord John Armitage’s marriage proposal; at least there was a man who wanted her, she had consoled herself. Her brother had been home on leave recovering from an injury at the time, and it had seemed the ideal thing for her to marry before he had to return to his regiment.

It was only now, during these past few days of being with Marcus so intimately, that Julianna had realized her insistence on an immediate wedding four years ago had been because she had hated the thought of Marcus returning to England and perhaps guessing that she was pining away with unrequited love for him.

She had hoped by marrying John that she would get over her love for Marcus. Instead, she had merely buried her love for him in the deep recesses of her heart. She had never loved John—how could she when it had been Marcus, the man who had unknowingly held her heart in his elegant hands, whom she loved?

Whom she still loved.

What a fool she had been not to recognize this before now!

Because Marcus must surely despise her now, after she had blackmailed him into sharing such shocking intimacies with her these past three days, in order to prepare her for a future with other men.

Chapter Eight

‘Julianna?’ Marcus prompted with increasing unease for her silence and the faraway look in those grey, unfocused eyes.

He didn’t feel the least reassured as she stood up abruptly before crossing the room to stand beside the fireplace, the soft curtain of her hair hiding her face as she turned away from him. ‘I should never ... This is wrong. I was wrong to force you to do this,’ she added firmly, shoulders stiff above the rigidity of her spine. ‘I apologize for—for... You should know I would never have gone to Lord Standish and told him of your—your involvement with his wife, before their marriage.’

‘I am gratified to hear it,’ he murmured softly.

Tears glistened in those beautiful grey eyes as she lifted her head to face him, her cheeks pale. ‘I sincerely apologize, Marcus, beg your forgiveness for having forced you—’ She gave a shake of her head, her hair like a living flame as it flowed down about her shoulders and over the swell of her breasts. ‘I can only hope that my scandalous behaviour these past three days has not in any way affected your long-standing friendship with my brother.’

‘Not in the least,’ Marcus reassured her gruffly, wary of what she was going to say next.

‘But your poor hand—’

‘My “poor hand”, as you call it, was injured before Christian and I sparred together in the boxing ring yesterday,’ he assured her.

Her gaze sharpened. ‘It was?’

‘Yes.’ Marcus stood up, realizing that it was Julianna’s intention to call an end to their arrangement, and that the time for prevarication was over. ‘I put my fist through the Japanese screen after you left me yesterday, hence it becoming “damaged”.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Accidentally?’