“What?” His fingers played at the top of her thigh.
“I want…”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know…”
He smiled, the storm outside forgotten as he began to encourage a storm inside Ivy. Her hips moved slightly as he found her, and then her head fell back as he learned her sweet heat, his gentle touch sliding between folds that were swollen and damp.
He teased her little secret pearl, leaning forward at the same time to find her breast with his mouth, soaking her gown as he licked and sucked her nipple, fighting the urge to rip off her nightclothes and take her, make her his.
She cried out, stiffening, rigid beneath his caresses.
He stilled, holding her trembling body as she rode out her release, watching her face in the flickering candlelight as she melted into the pleasure of it.
Finally, limp and breathless, she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Oh Colly…”
Chapter Ten
Ivy awoke with a sigh of lingering pleasure, stretching and feeling every tiny piece of her flesh humming. Last night had been—astounding.
She blushed as she remembered looking at Colly, his face slightly flushed as he slid his hand from her body. She had wanted to slap her thighs together and keep it just where it was, but didn’t have the nerve.
He’d whispered to her, telling her how beautiful she was in her passion, and he’d kissed her so sweetly before tidying her gown.
She’d never imagined what having a lover would be like; it wasn’t something that had ever crossed her mind. But now? After what they’d done as the storm passed over the castle? Oh yes. She’d very much enjoy a lover. Provided it was Colly.
And deep inside, a yearning began. A yearning that she might actually become his wife and freely experience all that could be explored between a man and a woman.
But…there was always that little voice pointing out that just because he was a gentleman and rescued them both from a nasty spot, and just because he’d taken pity on her and touched her intimately—neither of those things meant they would or should be married.
She just couldn’t overcome her own objections to such a thing. She was wrong for him. All wrong. Being merely passable in looks would not reflect well on the Maidenbrooke lineage, populated as it was by some of the most stunning beauties. Her fortune was acceptable, but not huge, and her ancestry ranked along the same lines.
There was no way around it…he could do much better. Not many Dukes wed without considerable thought and examination of the business end of it. They had to, in order to maintain their position, wealth and holdings.
Ivy sighed.
It had been difficult to leave him, but they both knew she had to, if she wanted to retain her virginity. In fact the Duke had said as much, bluntly and with no attempt to find gentler words.
“I want you, Ivy. I want to take you to my bed and claim your body as mine.” His voice had been low and edged with a roughness that told her he meant every single word. “So please go now, before I forget who and where we are, and do as I desire.”
She had swallowed, watching his eyes follow the movement of her throat. “I…this is difficult, Colly. Because I think I want that as well. But as always, you’re right in your statement. It is neither the time nor the place.” She’d gathered what was left of her wits and composure, and managed to leave, refusing to allow him to walk her to her door.
“I live here, silly,” she scolded. “I am not going to get lost walking the few feet down the hallway to my room. And best we not be seen together en déshabillé, Colly. You know that.”
He’d nodded.
“Good night.” The words had come out as a soft endearment.
Ivy had shivered in response and gently touched his hand as he held the door open. “Good night.”
And here it was, morning, and she felt…renewed. Revitalised. Ready to face the day with the knowledge that she had changed last night; learned about herself, her body and her responses to a man’s touch.
The right man. For her, anyway.
What lay ahead, she didn’t know, but as she rose and completed her morning routine, she remained firm in that she had no regrets whatsoever about what had happened.
She spared a hope that Colly felt the same as she walked downstairs to breakfast.
“Good morning.” Elvina smiled as Ivy entered the parlour. “I recommend the scones. Cook has done an extraordinary job with them today and there’s our own blackberry jam to go with them.”
“Oh lovely,” answered Ivy, joining Elvina at the sideboard and adding eggs and slices of ham to her plate, as well as some scones.
“You must have worked up an appetite yesterday,” remarked Elvina.
Ivy hoped she hadn’t blushed. “Must be all the fresh air,” she replied, then bit into a scone to prevent any further conversation along those lines.
Lady Siddington arrived. “Oh, that scent. Fresh baking always makes my mouth water.” She smiled as Elvina rose, and Ivy came to her side, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.
“Good morning, Grandmama. You have to try the scones. They’re delicious.”
Settling at the table, she allowed a footman to serve her as Elvina and Ivy resumed their seats. “And where is his Grace this morning?”
“Right here, my Lady. Good morning to you.” Colly walked in and bowed to his hostess. “I see I’m not the only one lured by that delightful fragrance.” He moved to the sideboard and helped himself to a hearty breakfast.
“I trust you slept well, sir?” Lady Siddington glanced at him over the rim of her teacup. “Did you dream of knights and battles?”
He chuckled. “No, I
