Page 2 of Betting on a Duke
“Yes.” Hearing his proposal was a dream come true for her.
The moment she said yes, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the edge of the woods, stopping beneath a tree where he laid her down on a soft pile of leaves and moss. “Do you know what I have in mind?” he asked, his voice rough and his eyes heavy-lidded. “If you have any objections, we will wait for our wedding night.”
She reached for him. “No. I can’t think of a better place or time to finally belong to you—and you to me.” She meant what she said. Themoment was perfect. Her late-night dreams were about to become real.
Samuel covered her body with his and kissed her deeply. They had kissed before, however, this one was nothing like those kisses. His lips, teeth, and tongue devoured her and stole her breath. He tasted and sipped from her mouth, and she returned the gesture in kind. Never had he kissed her with such intensity that she lost herself in all the sensations coursing through her body. They moaned and groaned freely. The sound was perfect to her ears.
He tore his mouth from hers and kissed his way down her neck and sucked her nipple into his mouth through the wet fabric of her chemise. Her back arched off the ground as she felt the sensation travel down and settle between her thighs. He moved to her other breast and did the same thing, and once again, she felt it all the way to her womanhood.
When Samuel finally pulled up her chemise and touched her down there, she moaned with relief, finally knowing what it felt like to be touched by the one she loved in her most vulnerable and intimate area. Her hips moved against his hand automatically. She had no control over her emotions or her body’s response.
Samuel leaned off her and unbuttoned the placket of his breeches, freeing his engorged manhood. She tried not to let it happen, but her eyes widened and her mouth opened. “How is that going to fit inside me?”
Chuckling, he kissed her lips. “Trust me. It will, and I’ll be gentle.”
He moved on top of her and kissed her while his hand caressed her down there. It didn’t take long before she was squirming for more. Samuel moved between her legs and spread them wide. “Don’t tighten up. Relax and breathe,” he murmured right before she felt his manhood nudge against her opening.
“I’m trying,” she giggled, even though there was nothing funny about what was about to happen. She always laughed when she wasnervous. His hips moved against hers, pushing and retreating until he broke through her maidenhood. The pain took her by surprise, but as he moved inside her, it eased, and she tingled down there again.
Samuel buried his face in her neck. “I love you so much, and I can’t believe we get to spend the rest of our lives together, doing this anytime we want.”
“Hmmm, I love you too. But, I’m not convinced about this.”
“Trust me, there is so much more, and I promise to make you scream with pleasure the next time we make love.”
She frowned. “What about this time?”
“Is that a dare?” He looked at her with his lopsided grin, the one he had perfected at the age of ten that always made her heart melt.
“You bet it is!” she laughed.
“Well then, I’d better do my best and prove myself worthy of worshiping you.”
From that instant on, Samuel did as he promised. He worshiped her body until she could endure no more. Nothing, in all she’d read or heard whispered in drawing rooms or ballrooms, had prepared her for the sensitive onslaught and explosive pleasure she experienced with Samuel. Even now, as she lay sleepy, curled up in his arms beneath the large oak tree, her body hummed, her heart sang, and her soul was light and content. Never had she experienced such happiness and fulfillment. And to think she would marry her best friend and the man she loved above all others, hopefully in a short time.
*
When Samuel firstsaw Clarice approaching the lake, her image took his breath away. He had been half-teasing when he said, “Strip and join me.” And when she let him help her undress, he knew without a doubt that she was the woman for him, even though he already knew in his heart she was.
They understood each other, and they always had since they were very young. They were like-minded. He never had to pretend around her, and she probably didn’t have to pretend around him either. At least, it didn’t seem like she did.
The only thing he regretted was not waiting for her to be his first lover. He’d felt guilty the times he bedded other women, and so very thrilled knowing he would only ever bed Clarice from this day forth.
When he woke up that morning, he never imagined he would be lying beneath a tree, holding Clarice in his arms after making love to her and smiling like a love-sick fool. And this was only the beginning. His heart and soul felt at peace. His mind had also calmed down, which helped him tremendously. Most days, his mind raced with one thing or another. Right now, all it wanted was to hold Clarice and think about what tomorrow might bring. He wondered if he approached the Archbishop of Canterbury, would he grant him a special license so he could marry her within the week? Where would they go on their honeymoon? Where would they live? He chuckled. So his mind wasn’t quite as at ease as it seemed.
His arms held her closer to his heart. “Are you awake?” The last thing he wanted was to wake her, but they had been gone for several hours, and he didn’t want to risk his father or hers sending a footman or maid to find out where they were.
“Hmmm.” She snuggled into his arms, sending his body into turmoil. “Just barely.”
He kissed the top of her head. “We should get dressed, make ourselves presentable, and go back to the house.”
“It might take me some time.”
“I will help you.”
Half an hour later, they were dressed and looked acceptable. Clarice’s hair might not be perfect, but she could blame the windy weather. Luckily, all their clothes were dry. Hand in hand, they meandered along the path in the woods to the lush green lawn,through the formal gardens, and into the drawing room where both their mothers were dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs. A small knot formed in Samuel’s stomach. “Is something amiss?” he asked. Both mothers looked at them and then burst into tears. “Please, tell me what has happened,” he demanded, his heart skipping several beats as panic set in. “Has someone died?”
Clarice clutched his hand tightly, and her body stiffened. “Mama, what has you so upset?” she asked with concern.
“My dear Clarice, we must go,” her mother mumbled. Her mother hugged Samuel’s mother, the Duchess of Stanton. “Goodbye, my dearest friend.” She held her hand out to her daughter. “Come, we must not keep your father waiting.”
Samuel tried not to let Clarice’s hand go, but it was no use. She obeyed her mother and tugged her hand away from his firm grip. As she left the drawing room, her shoulders sagging, she looked back at him, her watery eyes wide and pleading.
“Clarice,” he called.
“Let her go, son,” his mother said quietly.
Let her go? What did that mean? He couldn’t let her go. He was going to marry her.
