Page 36 of The Vampire's Guide to Wooing a Scholar
He chuckled. “I am the one who should be apologizing. Let me set the record straight. I have not taken a lover in more than a decade.” He paused, licked his lips, then added, “Not that I would be averse to sharing pleasure with a man. Or multiple men. Or several men and women at the same time.” He shrugged. “I am not particular.”
Her face had become so red, he feared she would faint again. At least she sat close enough that he could catch her if she tumbled over.
“What you saw,” he continued in a softer tone, “was nothing more than Smith supporting me as I collapsed after working for too long without a break.”
He did not like lying to her, but for whatever reason, her mind was electing not to remember certain details from what she’d witnessed. Until she was ready to accept the truth of his nature, he would keep it from her.
She furrowed her brow. “You shouldn’t have been in your workshop without me.”
He leaned back. That was certainly not a response he’d expected. She’d gone from embarrassed to chastising in record time. It was, he admitted, rather nice to have someone trying to “mother” him. The only other person he’d ever allowed to speak to him in such a way was his nest sister Helena. She was the most sensitive of his siblings, the keeper of their family archives, and the only one of them with medical training, having been a nurse before Marguerite had chosen her to join their family.
“The letter on my desk,” Winifred said. “Was it from you?”
The muscles in his neck twitched. “Ah, well, yes.” Then, before she could ask about its contents, “I left it to explain the…misunderstanding. In case you did not want to speak to me.”
It wasn’t true, but he could not give her the letter now. She was obviously not ready to learn the truth of his vampirism.
She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “Why would Lord Grayson take it from me?”
“Perhaps my brother wanted you to hear the explanation from me directly?” He brushed his hand over the pocket that held the envelope. “I admit I have a habit of losing myself in my work rather than facing conflict.”
“Marcus,” Winifred said, in a sharper voice. “I want you to promise you won’t continue your experiments unless I am there to help.”
He grinned. “I promise.” He’d tried nearly every combination of blood possible with limited results, anyway, and the infusion from his valet would ease the worst of his symptoms. In fact, with his thirst sufficiently satisfied, his other urges made themselves known most insistently. Now that he no longer had to fear losing control, there was no reason to stay away from his wife. He could banish any suspicions she might have developed because of his prior restraint and show her exactly how much he desired her. He rose slowly, observing her face for any sign of fear, then crouched in front of her and clasped her hands. “There is something I want to ask.”
A fizzing sensation started in his stomach. He was not capable of becoming intoxicated, but every time he touched her, it felt as if she’d drunk several gallons of mulled wine. “B-Before,” he started, “you s-said… After we…” His throat worked. “I apologize. I have been alone for too long and am having difficulty finding the words to express myself.”
She placed her other hand on top of his. “Take your time.”
He licked his dry lips. “We had agreed in our letters that our marriage would be one of convenience, and I willnot ask more of you. However…” He threaded their fingers together. “Am I correct in assuming that you did not find my touch entirely repellant?”
“You are correct,” she whispered.
“W-What about this?” he asked. He caressed her palm with his thumb. “Is this…acceptable?”
She arched her body like a pampered housecat. “Yes.”
“And this?” He leaned forward and touched his lips gently to hers.
She flinched. He started to pull back, when she looped her arms around his neck. He took that as a positive sign and tilted his mouth, bringing their lips apart and then together again. Every place his skin touched hers sparked with sensation.
He longed to draw her warm, soft body close and make her cry out his name, but this was new to her, so he would let her control how slow or fast they moved forward. Then her wandering fingers touched the bulge in his trousers, sending a bolt of pleasure through him that jostled his senses back in order. It was too soon after her shock. She deserved a better setting to experience her first time.
He repositioned her hand on his trousers to her shoulders. “Winifred…”
She huffed. “I wish you would not do that. I’m not fragile. You won’t break me.”
“I am not so sure of that.”
She pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. “Trust me.”
“Winifred,” he whispered between her closed-mouthed kisses. “We should discuss this before we proceed. You are innocent.”
The urge to extend his fangs grew with every passing second, but he tamped down his vampiric instincts with every bit of his strength. He would only go as far as she wished, which did not include sampling her blood a second time.
No matter how much pleasure it would have brought them both.
“No more talking,” she said. “Touch me, Marcus.”
