He appeared a man well fucked. Accepting his handkerchief, she cleaned herself, then stood, adjusting her skirts.
“Christ, you’re a wanton little thing,” he murmured, closing his breeches. “I can hardly walk across a ballroom without you mauling me like a lioness.”
She scoffed in mock outrage. “ Me ? What about you?”
He shrugged. “I can hardly be blamed when you insist upon seducing me at every turn.”
“I, seduce you?” she scoffed. “How can you blame me for seduction when all I did was glance at you from across the room?”
His hands came up to her shoulders, holding tight. He pulled her close, molding her body to his, and lowered his head for a kiss.
“Everything you do seduces me,” he murmured. “Your gaze, your walk, your voice, the curve of your mouth when you smile … all pure seduction, love. How is a man to control his urges in the face of such overwhelming stimulation?”
She swayed against him with a sigh.
“Why should you control yourself? We are married now and I am yours to do with what you please.”
He gave her another swift kiss, then released her. “Right now, nothing would please me more than to say ‘to hell with our guests’, and whisk you upstairs to our chambers, lock the door, and have my wicked way with you until the sun rises. However, duty calls. I do not think you’ve been a duchess long enough to start shocking people with your outlandish behavior. Better give it a season or two.”
She giggled. “I suppose you are right. Besides, in a few more days we won’t have to worry about propriety. I shall have you all to myself.”
“An ingenious invention, the honeymoon,” he mused. “What better excuse for a man to whisk his wife away and spend his every waking hour rutting between her thighs?”
Slapping his arm playfully, she laughed. “Camden Rycroft, is that you all you intend to do during our time away?”
Taking her hand and placing it in the crook of his arm once more, he led her back toward the ballroom doors.
“My love, I have quite a few things planned, though all of them will inevitably end with me between those perfect legs of yours.”
“I am intrigued,” she replied. “What sort of plans? You haven’t even told me where we’re going.”
His blue eyes glittered mischievously in the light of the ballroom’s candles. “That, my dear, is for me to know and you to find out.”
Part Two: The Masquerade
Margaret studied her husband, too intrigued by his odd behavior to eat her dinner. He’d been busy all day making ‘preparations’ for their honeymoon—a trip she still knew nothing about. While she enjoyed a surprise as much as the next woman, the suspense had begun to drive her mad. Whenever she met Camden’s gaze, the light of excitement and mischief shone in the depths of his irises, filling her with the urge to take him by the lapels, shake him until his teeth rattled and demand to know what he had up his sleeve.
He paused in eating, fork inches from his mouth.
“Is the pheasant not to your liking, darling?” he asked, an expression of amusement crossing his face.
He knew he’d been driving her mad in his game of secrets and intrigue.
She forced herself to take a bite and smile. “It’s lovely. Will you be going out tonight?”
While newlywed life had made him eager to spend most evenings with her, she did not want him to think she expected it to last forever. He was a duke with political responsibilities, which often meant schmoozing other members of the House of Lords over cards and drinks.
A smile curved his lips—his most wicked one—and she knew he must be up to no good.
“Oh no,” he murmured. “Tomorrow morning we set off on our trip, and tonight … well, just think of it as a prelude of things to come. I suggest you eat, darling. You’ll need your strength.”
His declaration sent a shiver down her spine. Excitement filled her and she forgot the curiosity that had caused her
“Christ, you’re a wanton little thing,” he murmured, closing his breeches. “I can hardly walk across a ballroom without you mauling me like a lioness.”
She scoffed in mock outrage. “ Me ? What about you?”
He shrugged. “I can hardly be blamed when you insist upon seducing me at every turn.”
“I, seduce you?” she scoffed. “How can you blame me for seduction when all I did was glance at you from across the room?”
His hands came up to her shoulders, holding tight. He pulled her close, molding her body to his, and lowered his head for a kiss.
“Everything you do seduces me,” he murmured. “Your gaze, your walk, your voice, the curve of your mouth when you smile … all pure seduction, love. How is a man to control his urges in the face of such overwhelming stimulation?”
She swayed against him with a sigh.
“Why should you control yourself? We are married now and I am yours to do with what you please.”
He gave her another swift kiss, then released her. “Right now, nothing would please me more than to say ‘to hell with our guests’, and whisk you upstairs to our chambers, lock the door, and have my wicked way with you until the sun rises. However, duty calls. I do not think you’ve been a duchess long enough to start shocking people with your outlandish behavior. Better give it a season or two.”
She giggled. “I suppose you are right. Besides, in a few more days we won’t have to worry about propriety. I shall have you all to myself.”
“An ingenious invention, the honeymoon,” he mused. “What better excuse for a man to whisk his wife away and spend his every waking hour rutting between her thighs?”
Slapping his arm playfully, she laughed. “Camden Rycroft, is that you all you intend to do during our time away?”
Taking her hand and placing it in the crook of his arm once more, he led her back toward the ballroom doors.
“My love, I have quite a few things planned, though all of them will inevitably end with me between those perfect legs of yours.”
“I am intrigued,” she replied. “What sort of plans? You haven’t even told me where we’re going.”
His blue eyes glittered mischievously in the light of the ballroom’s candles. “That, my dear, is for me to know and you to find out.”
Part Two: The Masquerade
Margaret studied her husband, too intrigued by his odd behavior to eat her dinner. He’d been busy all day making ‘preparations’ for their honeymoon—a trip she still knew nothing about. While she enjoyed a surprise as much as the next woman, the suspense had begun to drive her mad. Whenever she met Camden’s gaze, the light of excitement and mischief shone in the depths of his irises, filling her with the urge to take him by the lapels, shake him until his teeth rattled and demand to know what he had up his sleeve.
He paused in eating, fork inches from his mouth.
“Is the pheasant not to your liking, darling?” he asked, an expression of amusement crossing his face.
He knew he’d been driving her mad in his game of secrets and intrigue.
She forced herself to take a bite and smile. “It’s lovely. Will you be going out tonight?”
While newlywed life had made him eager to spend most evenings with her, she did not want him to think she expected it to last forever. He was a duke with political responsibilities, which often meant schmoozing other members of the House of Lords over cards and drinks.
A smile curved his lips—his most wicked one—and she knew he must be up to no good.
“Oh no,” he murmured. “Tomorrow morning we set off on our trip, and tonight … well, just think of it as a prelude of things to come. I suggest you eat, darling. You’ll need your strength.”
His declaration sent a shiver down her spine. Excitement filled her and she forgot the curiosity that had caused her
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