by Emma Wildes
It was a lovely fall day, the sky cloudless, the air warm, and they were seated in her sister’s small
garden. One of the children ran in a circle in the grass, dropped down delightedly with a piercing
but joyful shriek, and then rolled over without regard to the possibility of stains on her lacy dress.
Brianna watched her niece’s antics, trying to hide her smile. “Can you be more specific?”
Her sister gave her a quelling glance. Lea was five years older, also blond and slender. They
might look alike, but Lea had always been a little on the prim side. “You know perfectly well
what I’m talking about. It is all over the society papers—how you wore a gown designed by that
French modiste and had everyone whispering at the opera the other evening. By all accounts, it
was either the height of fashion or the most provocative attire worn in public in quite some time.”
Duchess or not, all at once Brianna felt like the child she used to be, censured by her older
sibling. “It was daring,” she admitted, “but I had a very good reason for deciding to wear it. It
isn’t like there weren’t other women in attendance with necklines just as low.”
“I hope you realize you are one of the most envied women in society.” Lea stood up, walked over
to lift her daughter gently to her feet and wipe the grass blades from her hem before urging her to
resume play with the other two children. Lea returned to the bench in the warm sunshine and
sank down in a graceful swirl of skirts. “You can’t do something outrageous and assume no one
will comment. You are the Duchess of Rolthven.”
“I was only trying to get Colton’s attention, not everyone else’s.”
“What on earth are you talking about? It seems to me you have his attention. He is your
husband.”
“I certainly did catch his notice that evening.” Brianna recalled the carriage ride with an inner
smile.
“Whatever do you mean?”
Brianna shrugged, hoping it looked like casual dismissal. In truth, her feelings on the subject
were anything but casual. “Is it wrong of me to want more from my marriage?”
“I thought you were over the moon with happiness to be marrying Colton, and that you are rather
unfashionably in love with your husband.” Lea’s smooth brow furrowed in a small frown.
That was all true.
It was the problem, really. Had she just wanted to marry a powerful duke, she might have been
satisfied with the stature, money, and influence her position now gave her. But Brianna would
have married Colton—as Lea had her Henry—if he’d been ordinary in every way.
“I do love Colton—that isn’t the issue. Well, it is, I suppose.” Brianna idly adjusted her silk skirts
with one hand, her gaze focused on the playing children. “I think he is pleased he married me. I
know he is attracted to me, and that he even finds my company enjoyable, though we don’t see
each other nearly often enough in my opinion. But does he love me? Of that, I am not so sure. In
our society it is perfectly acceptable for him not to love me, for that matter. It is not, however,
acceptable to me. Were my own feelings not engaged, I am sure I would be content. But I wish to
be more than content. I want to be happy. More than that, I want Colton to be happy.”
“I doubt it made him happy to have you appear in public wearing only half a gown,” Lea pointed
out, ever the practical older sister.
“It irritated him very much,” Brianna admitted. “But he also—maybe for the first time since we
met—got the sense that I am my own person and I may not always act predictably, whether or not
it pleases him.” She couldn’t help a mischievous smile. “Besides, once we were alone, I got the
distinct impression he rather admired the gown after all. Which, as I said before, is the only
reason I wore it. So far our marriage has been on his terms alone. That is going to change. I want
us to share our lives, not just the same address.”
Her sister said nothing for a moment, before her mouth twitched and she laughed. “I see. You
sound quite determined. You were such a stubborn child when you got a notion into your head.
The poor man really doesn’t have a chance. Does Colton realize what he is up against?”
Brianna thought of the book and said serenely, “He hasn’t the slightest idea.”
Something strange was going on—of that there was no doubt.
When the door into his bedroom from the adjoining suite swung open, Colton was a trifle wary.
During dinner Brianna had been particularly animated, and if they hadn’t had guests, he might
have asked her flat out why exactly she was acting so markedly different. He could have sworn
she seemed nervous, but for the life of him he couldn’t imagine why. Lord and Lady Black were
on the dull side and they concentrated more on the food than conversation, so he couldn’t believe
their company had sparked such a reaction.
“It’s late and I dismissed my maid for the night. Will you help me out of my dress?” She’d taken
the pins from her hair and it fell to her waist in shining blond curls that caught the low light.
Barefoot, she walked slowly toward him, her brows arched slightly in teasing question.
Will I help you out of your dress?
He couldn’t think of anything he’d enjoy more.
Colton’s fingers fumbled slightly as he complied and slipped free the fastenings on her evening
gown. It slid off her slender shoulders and fell to the floor. Her chemise was nothing like the
demure undergarments she usually wore, but instead made out of a lace so sheer she might as
well have been wearing nothing at all. Colton could not help but take a quick breath. His voice a
trifle thick, he said, “I see Madame Ellen has been at her scandalous work again.”
Turning around, Brianna smiled at him mischievously. “It was a warm summer, and I wanted
something a little cooler to wear under my gowns.”
“It’s warm, all right,” Colton muttered darkly, tugging at his cravat, pulling it loose and
discarding it carelessly.
“Shall I go back to my room?”
He almost didn’t register her delicately phrased question. Pink, perfect nipples thrust high against
the sheer fabric of her shift, and the soft weight of her opulent breasts molded by the fragile
material. It fell to midthigh, and Colton could clearly see the intriguing darkness between her
legs. “I beg your pardon?”
Her laugh was light and provocative, her soft mouth curving. “I asked if I should go back to my
room, but I am going to assume that” —she pointed at the sudden prominent bulge in his tight
breeches—“is my answer. Here, you helped me. Now it’s my turn.”
To his utter astonishment, his beautiful, refined young bride dropped to her knees in front of him
and began to unfasten his trousers. The brush of her slender fingers through the material as she
worked was excruciatingly arousing, and he hardened further, almost holding his breath as she
finally tugged open the last button and freed his erection.
“Brianna,” he said hoarsely, as she began to stroke his cock, her caressing hands making his
entire body quiver. “What are you doing?”
Wiping a bead of semen from the engorged tip, she looked at the substance on her finger with
open curiosity, and to his shock, licked it off. “It’s salty,” she said artlessly, looking up at him
Colton felt a rush of molten heat through his veins as she leaned forward with unmistakable
intent. Her soft lips slid over the head of his erection, the sensation exquisite.
Never in his life had he been so outraged.
Never in his life had anything felt so good.
Oh, he’d had lovers before his marriage who had pleasured him orally, but they’d been
experienced women, not innocent, genteel young ladies who should have no notion of doing any
such a thing. His hands went to her hair, and he had every intention of demanding to know just
where Brianna had gotten the idea to do something so wanton, but just as his fingers sank into the
silky mass to tug her head up, she began to suck gently.
A low sound tore up from his chest and his body shook. Without thought he pushed deeper in her
warm mouth. His movement was an unconscious reflex and almost immediately he tried to
withdraw, but she cupped his ballocks and instead he groaned again. Sliding up, her tongue
licked the crest of his erection and then she repeated the motion with tantalizing slowness over
and over. Colton trembled, not able to bring himself to make her stop until he felt his testicles
tighten in preparation for ejaculation. He absolutely refused to come in her mouth. It was not
something a gentleman did, but he was wild with the need for release.
“Enough,” he growled, somehow finding the will to pull free before scooping her off the floor.
He crossed the room, practically tossing her on the bed in a flurry of golden curls and long silken
limbs. Jerking up the hem of her chemise, he heard the delicate material rip, and a rash part of
him he didn’t know existed decided that if the garment was already damaged, it would come off
faster if he just tore it. Brianna gave a low gasp as he deliberately jerked her bodice apart.
Gloriously exposed, she stared up at him, her body lush and inviting. If he entered her now,
Colton knew he’d explode at once and cheat her of any kind of release. He undid two buttons on
his linen shirt, decided it would take too long to unfasten it, whipped it off over his head, and
then stepped out of his unfastened breeches. “If you wish to play wicked games, madam,” he told
her, his glittering gaze admiring every inch of her nude form, “it is now my turn.”
She licked her lips. “I wish to play any game you choose.”
“You’ll like this one.” Joining her on the bed, he nuzzled her breasts briefly, kissed her stomach,
and then buried his face in the sweetness between her legs.
Brianna gasped, as he expected she would, and for a moment her thighs clamped together in
protest against such a sinful kiss, but he didn’t allow it. Insistently, his hands pushed her slim legs
apart, and he pressed his mouth against the sensitive moistness of her sex. Licking and stroking
with his tongue, he teased her just as she had teased him, and he could feel her arousal when the
small nub between her folds began to swell against the pressure of his mouth. She tasted sweetly
female, and as he brought her to climax, her small cries of pleasure inflamed him even more. In
moments Brianna convulsed, her hands grasping his arms as she shuddered and moaned. Not
giving her time to recover, Colton moved up between her open thighs, and thrust into her still
contracting passage.
As predicted, it was over quickly. Her wet heat milking him, release hit him after the first three
thrusts, the sensation of carnal pleasure so intense, so good, that he closed his eyes and went
rigid. Beneath him, Brianna ran her hands down the damp skin of his back, clutching his buttocks
as he flooded her with hot sperm. His muscles shook with the force of his ejaculation.
When he could finally speak again, he stared down at the utterly tempting, disheveled woman in
his arms framed in tatters of ruined lace. “Do you mind telling me,” he asked unevenly, his chest
still lifting in an erratic rhythm as he struggled to regain his breath, “just what has gotten into
you, my dear?”
Her fingers traced the small of his back. “It seems to me that you are in me, Colton.”
A muffled laugh escaped his lips at the erotic joke. “And it is a delightful place to be, but that is
not what I meant, as I have a feeling you know full well.” The fragrance of flowers drifted from
her hair and he couldn’t help but kiss the side of her graceful neck, inhaling the sweet scent.
“Whatever gave you the idea to . . . well . . .”
How in the hell did a man politely ask a woman why she wanted to suck his cock, Colton thought
darkly, discomforted because he could sense Brianna’s amusement over his quest for the right
words. He wasn’t at all used to what seemed to be a sudden shift in power in their relationship.
He was the experienced one. She had come to their marriage bed a virgin and only knew what he
had shown her, and he certainly had never asked her for something he was convinced would
shock her to her very core. It was well and good if a light-o’-love wished to use her mouth to
bring a man pleasure, but it wasn’t something you suggested to your proper young wife of three
months.
“I thought you liked it.” The husky note in her voice matched the seductive light stroking of her
fingers down his bare back.
Liked it? That was putting it mildly.
Colton fought to sound rational and calm while his heart still pounded wildly. “Madam, you
know full well I liked it, but you are being evasive.”
“Must you be so analytical at this particular moment?” Beneath him, Brianna arched a little, and
added breathlessly, “You still feel so big.”
Her words sent a jolt of new arousal straight to his groin. It was true; his erection hadn’t faded,
even with the force of his recent climax. Colton decided she was right—at least for now, the
cause of her sudden sexually adventurous spirit wasn’t important. Not when he could make love
to her again. He kissed her and whispered against her soft lips, “This discussion isn’t over. We’ll
continue it some other time.”
Truly the book had been an inspiration.
Sated and a little drowsy, Brianna curled comfortably in her husband’s embrace, hours after her
uninvited entrance into his bedchamber. After their initial heated, hurried joining, Colton had
proceeded to make love to her with restrained tenderness, moving slowly so she savored each
slick long glide of their bodies fitting together, caressing her sensitive breasts, teasing the hollow
under her ear before taking her mouth in long, searing kisses.
He was so quiet she wondered if he might be asleep, until he murmured, “My apologies for the
loss of your shift.”
Brianna tilted her head up so she could see his face, trying to read his expression. Without all the
formal clothing, his chestnut hair tousled against the pillow slip, he looked different from the
refined duke she had married. Not just handsome but devastatingly so, his lean body hard and
male, that part of him that had so pleased her now lax between his muscular thighs. It was
startling to realize that though they had been married for over three months, she hadn’t ever really
seen him naked. When he came to her room he wore his dressing gown, and it was always dark
before he joined her in bed.
Thi
s was much, much better.
Brianna asked playfully, “Are you really sorry? I’m not.”
His lashes lowered a fraction. “It seems to me it is a barbaric discourtesy to rip off your wife’s
clothing.”
“Believe me, you are forgiven, Colton.” She couldn’t be more sincere.
“You caught me rather off guard, my dear.”
So had he her, with that wicked intimate kiss between her legs. When she’d read the suggestion
she actually put her mouth on his sex she’d been shocked, but true to Lady Rothburg’s assertion,
he’d obviously enjoyed it immensely. So much he’d ripped off her shift in feverish need.
Progress indeed.
It was a nice balance, she decided in luxurious contentment, between impetuous wild need and
the careful gentleness of his later lovemaking. Before the night of the opera, she had experienced
only the latter, but both had their merits. It was a little shocking to discover she liked sexual
intercourse fast and hard, and that her own level of desire was elevated by her husband’s loss of
control.
It was exhilarating. From now on, Madame Ellen would make all her underclothing out of sheer
lace.
“I hope I wasn’t too demanding.” His fingers feathered down her arm.
“Did you sense any objection on my part?”
“No.” One of his rare smiles surfaced, lighting his fine features. As quickly as it came, it was
gone. “But still, I was rather importunate.”
That he hadn’t been entirely in charge of the situation bothered him. She’d expected it would. He
was so very used to making decisions not just for himself, but ones that affected others. In his
personal life, there were now two of them; his decision wasn’t the only one that mattered.
Hopefully he would come to see it that way soon.
“I am rather more than fine, Colton.” Brianna yawned. “Deliciously tired, if I may say so, but it is
not a bad state to be in.”
“No, my dear, I suppose it isn’t.”
She rubbed her cheek against Colton’s damp, hard chest, hoping he wouldn’t suggest she return
to her own room. Usually he came to her bedchamber, following the pattern set on the night of
their wedding. The routine rarely varied, a fact that didn’t surprise her since her husband believed
in an ordered life. He would wait until she was in bed and her maid was dismissed, inquire
