Duke of Dishonor (Lords of Scandal 11)

He could feel her pulse fluttering under his lips. He smiled at her nervous excitement. “It’s just that it’s…the middle of the day.”

His hands slid to the buttons and he began to undo them. “Well…” He kissed just a touch higher even as he undid three more buttons. “I can leave you to bathe and then I can return later when it’s darker.” He began to slide the garment off her body. “The only problem that poses is where I might take a bath.”

“Oh,” she said again, turning to look at him.

From this stance, behind her shoulder, he had an excellent view of her cleavage, pushed up by her corset, and he nearly groaned in need.

But he kept the sound in. She was new to this and deserved his patience.

He removed her skirts, and then her petticoats, and her corset.

She sat on the bed and he watched as she wiggled her pantaloons and stockings down from under her chemise.

When she stood in nothing but the sheer garment, her pretty feet, ankles, calves, and arms exposed to his view, she gave him a stern glare. “Turn around.”

He grinned but did as she bid. “You don’t want me to bathe you?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “But I’ll climb into the tub with some measure of privacy.”

He heard the rustle of fabric and the sound of the water. Then she began to soap. He could hear the scrubbing and the lather. After a few minutes had passed and he was warring with himself whether or not to peek, she called out, “You may turn around.”

He did, to find her folded into the tub. The water, cloudy with soap, came to just above her nipples, exposing the top of her wet breasts and chest.

Tendrils of her hair were wet and her cheeks rosy.

Desire coursed through him as he began to remove his coat.

His cravat came next. And then his shirt.

When he was bare to the waist, he knelt beside the tub. “Lean forward.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked, her voice breathless.

“I’m going to wash your back, love.” He’d like to wash every inch of her, but he’d settle for that. For now. The next time he gave her a bath, which would be soon, he’d soap up every inch of her.

She did as he bid and lightly scrubbed, his hands touching every inch of her supple flesh.

When he was done, he reached for a large blanket and stood, holding it up to wrap her.

Color flushed her face, but she did as he’d silently asked, stepping from the water.

And then he quickly shed the rest of his clothes.

“What are you doing?” she gasped, her eyes all over his body.

“I’m getting in the tub. I want to be clean for my wife.”

He saw her gaze slide down him, lingering on his manhood. She nibbled at her lip, a sure sign she was nervous.

He understood. He was a large man, and his male parts were suited to his size. He slid into the tub, quickly washing.

To his surprise, she crossed over to him, having tucked the blanket under her arms and tucking it closed. “Hand me the soap and I’ll do your back too.”

He raised a brow but did as she bid. And when her hands began to slide over his body, he nearly groaned in pleasure.

Her touch was gentle, her hand sliding over him in a rhythmic touch that left him aching. “Done,” she said as she leaned away. “And you were right. Marriage will be very intimate indeed.”

“We do have one problem,” he quipped with a grin.