The Duke's Shotgun Wedding (Scandalous House of Calydon 1)

Her hands fluttered to her throat as she stared at the part of him that jutted out toward her, so hard and rigid. And huge.

Good heavens.

She snapped her gaze up and met his eyes. They smoldered with something primitive and predatory that took her breath away.

In two strides he was directly in front of her. Then he reached out, hauled her into his arms. And he took.

His fingers locked into the thick coils of her hair as he angled his head and crushed his lips over hers. He was not slow and seductive as he’d been earlier, instead he devoured. The intensity of his kiss shook her enough that fear once again slammed through her stuttering her heart.

She gasped into his mouth, and his tongue plundered, entwining with hers, lashing her with unexpected pleasure. She moaned as that same unfamiliar fire swept through her body. A strange buzzing whipped through her and she whimpered as he pressed her back into the icy cold wall. Need pulsed between her legs, melting her and creating sensations there that left her weak and stunned.

She felt as if everything was happening too fast. A sharp rip sounded, and her sheer nightgown parted down the middle. She let out a yelp as he hoisted her, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. She felt hot and restless, her skin painfully sensitive. His hands moved over her, caressing her buttocks, then cupping her breasts. He dragged his thumb across her nipple, and the rough caress slammed pleasure directly to her core. His kisses and nips stroked over her lips, her throat, her collar bone, and she arched in a stinging ache of pleasure as his mouth clamped over her nipple and sucked. She gripped his dark head tight as he pulled strongly with his mouth, destroying her with the electric sensations he sent flooding through her entire body.

The hand not pinning her to the wall sent flames of heat streaking up her thighs and between her legs. Shock and excitement vied for equal attention when he parted her curls and ran his fingers though her slit. She was mortifyingly wet there, and she desperately wondered if she should be. Her thoughts derailed as he plunged a long finger inside her while circling his thumb just above, touching a knot of agonizing pleasure.

She splintered.

Her scream was muffled as he captured her lips, kissing her in time to the fingers that continued to torment her between her legs. She felt delirious with the unbearably hot desires twisting within her. She shook with the pleasure, the lightening that struck her, and the fever that invaded her limbs, too wrapped in the overwhelming physical sensations to care about the liquid that wetted his hands and slickness that ran between her thighs.

He plunged a second finger inside, and she cried out at the bite of pain. He did not give her time to adjust to the invasion before he continued thrusting. Sweat slicked her skin and she was dazedly grateful, for it seemed to cool the fire that burned so hotly in her veins. The room spun as he tumbled her down on the bed.

His lips left hers and created a wake of scalding heat as he licked down to her breasts, dipped in her navel, and continued down.

Shocked embarrassment stormed through her as he replaced his wet fingers with his mouth and tongue. She shrieked, her back bowing under the riotous sensations that gripped her. His tongue speared inside her and fiery tingles coursed through her body. She gripped a fistful of his hair and yanked. She was surprised when he came up easily, his muscled framed poised over hers as he stared down at her, his eyes glittering with heat.

She gasped raggedly and stared back at him with her heart jerking and thundering painfully.

She could not stop the tremors that shook her, try as she might.

“Ah, Jocelyn.” The softest of kisses brushed her swollen lips. “I have not lost so much control since I was an untried boy.” His lips gentled even further as he kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, and back to softly fluttering over her lips.

Instead of his hands burning her with pleasure, they now ran languidly over her, gentle and teasing, but with a focused intensity that wrung soft moans and gasps from her. The sharp, desperate edgy feeling eased, replaced by languorous pleasure.

“It surely must be wicked and immoral to feel so good,” she moaned against his lips, her focus blurring at the feel of his skin rubbing sensually against hers.

He chuckled softly. “We haven’t even begun to be wicked and immoral yet, my duchess.”

The edgy uncertainty and fear she had felt earlier fled completely, and a tentative trust formed, allowing her to relax into the pleasure he bestowed upon her body. She trusted him wholly when he eased her over so that she lay on her stomach, and she could only purr deep in her throat as he kissed and nibbled her neck, over her shoulder blades, and down her back, stopping at her buttocks. He nipped sharply. Her hips rolled and arched up, loving the heat of his tongue as it soothed the sting. She purred, squirming under his sensual touch. His chuckle vibrated against her, and his crooning words of encouragement as he licked a sensitive spot behind her knees had almost as strong an effect as the fingers that continued to thrust so steadily inside her.

She shivered, moaning weakly, helplessly craving the pleasure he tormented her with. His powerful hands gripped her hips and spun her to face him. She swallowed at the dark sensuality that marked his features. Without breaking their gazes, he drew her under him, lifting her legs to hook at his hips.

She ran her hands over his arms and chest, reveling in his strength and power. Her hands drifted down his roped abdomen, then hesitated.

His breath fanned over her lips as he exhaled. “Touch me, my duchess. Do not shy away now.”

He gritted his teeth and groaned as she circled his hard length with her fingers. He felt like hot iron.

“Sebastian.” Her moan was an entreaty to fill the emptiness that clawed at her.

He growled in answer.

His movements were rough when he parted her thighs and started to push into her. His lips captured hers, claiming her tongue in a teasing foray as he slowly thrust, deeper and deeper. A burning pleasure-pain consumed her, bowing her back, and had her bucking and moaning in his mouth. He held himself taut above her, his body shaking as he waited for her to adjust.

She felt stretched, wonderfully full, and excited by what was happening. An excitement that tunneled into amazed wonder at the sensations that gripped her as he started a powerful lunge and retreat.

The sharp pain had been fleeting, and now the sweetest pleasure she had ever felt spiraled from her center and ignited within her. Her hips instinctively arched, undulating to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts. She could not contain her moans or the strength with which she clutched him as sensual pleasure held her in a vise. She wrapped her legs higher around his waist and was rewarded as he plunged deeper. She screamed as the pleasure roared through her, fierce and sweet, and she exploded in a conflagration of delight. Sebastian’s harsh groan rumbled against her lips as he kissed her, plunging with increased power and speed until the pleasure overtook him, too.

“Bloody hell,” she whispered against his lips long moments later, her frame still trembling from the mind-numbing pleasure.

“I should have known that cursing was part of your repertoire,” he mumbled with a chuckle.

He rolled with her so that she splayed on top of him. She reared up to look at him, searching his face. She followed the scar that ran from his temple and across his cheeks so savagely. Instead of giving him a grisly mien, it hinted at rakish danger. She smiled at her thoughts.

“Not many see my scar and smile, Duchess.” His voice was still husky from their lovemaking, and an answering thrill surged through her.

“I like it.” When his eyes shuttered, she lowered her face so less than an inch separated their lips, and asked, “Disappointed? Did you expect me to scream or cry?”

A warning growl rumbled from his chest. “I have had young ladies faint at the sight of my visage, Duchess.”

“I find you devastatingly handsome, and I simply don’t believe anyone fainted from this little scratch.” She brushed her lips across his scar, trailing

soft kisses over the crescent shape. She halted her movements when she realized how still he had become. The hands that had been loosely wrapped around her waist had tightened painfully. But she did not protest. She raised up, observing his expressionless face. “What?”

“Being hidden away from society, you obviously have not had a chance to look upon many handsome faces to judge accurately, Duchess.”

Even though said with a smile playing at his lips, she had a feeling he was not amused. The curve of his mouth held no warmth, and she could glean nothing from his cool gaze.

“I disagree,” she said quietly.

Suddenly she wished for the privacy of her own chambers, unsure how to deal with her husband’s changeable moods. Especially while splayed over him, naked. Heat rushed through her and her discomfort grew.

“You’re blushing, Duchess. I believe I would give you one of my finest studs for your thoughts right now.”

“Indeed?” She raised skeptical brows. “Many would only offer a penny.”

“I did not think a penny would entice you to reveal the unladylike thoughts that have you blushing so becomingly and averting your eyes from mine.”

She smiled hesitantly, heating even more. “In truth, I was thinking of all the wicked and immoral things we just did.”

Laughter burst from him. “Ah, Duchess, you have much to learn. We have done nothing wicked or immoral. Yet,” he added with a sinful smile.

She sucked in a breath. “Show me.” The words came out as more of a moan than the demand she had meant it to be.