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“It does not make sense to feel this way for you. At least not this quickly.”

His tongue swirled again, and every movement undid her further. Then, almost angrily and utterly breathless, she gave a shameless command before she could stop herself.

“Do not stop. I beg of you.”

Her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. What had gotten into her?

Ambrose went still at her words. His mouth lingered against her fingertip for a second, and her lashes fluttered. Then, without warning, he withdrew her fingers from his mouth. His grip tightened around her wrist, and he pulled her flush against him. She gasped as she fell straight into him.

“Repeat yourself,” he ordered, his deep voice rough and demanding, eyes gleaming dangerously in the dim light. “Tell me not to stop.”

The command sent a shiver through her. She tried to summon the stubborn composure that had served her so well since becoming his wife, but she was failing miserably. The duke tilted her chin upward with firm fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze, while his other arm drew her closer still. There was no gap between them now, and she felt… something.

She gasped as she felt the unmistakable sensation of something hard against her.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his voice thick.

Marina moved her hand between their bodies, watching his expression as she did so, and he did not stop her. Finally, she touched it. Her reaction was immediate, her fingers pressing loosely against the firmness.

It was him. Hard, hungry under her fingers. She lifted her gaze back to his face, and the look that came over it made her stiffen.

His eyes darkened, his jaw locked. Her fingers trembled against him, too frightened to explore further. The instant she withdrew her hand, he spoke, his voice husky.

“You bewitch me,” he stated gruffly, the admission tearing from somewhere deep within him.

Marina barely had time to process the words. He caught both her wrists, almost roughly, locking them behind her back and holding her helplessly in place before he bent and claimed her mouth with his. No warning. No mercy. His kiss scorched her, and her whole body melted beneath it. Her hands remained trapped as he kissed her with thorough possession, taking his time, sucking at both lips, keeping her mercilessly under his control. She felt his hardness grow more insistent as his hips moved slightly against her.

In no time, every coherent thought had escaped her as she answered the movement of his mouth over hers, as though he had all the time in the world to discover every reaction he could draw from her. He did not stop. Her knees weakened, and Marina could hardly remember why she had ever thought she wanted to resist him. Each slow movement of his mouth was everything she had longed for since their first kiss.

Still holding her captive, he left her lips and she barely had time to breathe before his mouth traveled lower to the tender flesh of her neck, drawing a broken moan from her throat. His tongue traced her cheek, her jaw, her throat. Marina shut her eyes, the sensation coming from him becoming almost unbearable. His mouth descended until it found the swell of her breasts, closing over one sensitive bud through the thin fabric of her gown, sucking with deliberate hunger.

“Ambrose,” she moaned.

Ambrose kept her perfectly pinned while he exchanged one peak for the other. His tongue swirled against the light cloth, sending sharp sensations through her. She clenched her thighs together against the growing moisture there, tempted beyond reason to move against the hard pressure of him. She wanted to move. Wanted to press closer. Wanted far too much. But held as she was, she could scarcely move.

At last, he released her hands and turned her so that her back pressed against his chest. He cupped her breasts in his palms and squeezed slowly. His mouth found the side of her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh there. Her head fell back against his shoulder, her fingers grabbing the fabric of his shirt as another moan slipped freely from her mouth.

Be careful what you wish for. As though he had not teased her enough already, one of his hands slipped away from her breast. His palm slid downward over the curve of her body. There was something almost maddening about the confidence of his touch, the possessive certainty of a man who owned every inch of her. His hand paused at her waist, his thumb rubbing slow, sensual circles, before moving lower still. Her fingers tightened around his shirt. She knew she ought to stop him. He had been clear that he never wanted an heir, and the way they were going, there might well be one.

However, she could not. His mouth remained against her neck, his lips teasing over her skin while his other hand cupped her breast. Marina felt herself sinking further into him, her thoughts becoming increasingly useless underneath the unbearable, patient way he explored her.

Then his hand moved lower, pushed her skirts aside, and slipped between her legs from behind. The single movement made a tremor pass through her, her toes curling in her shoes. Her breath broke into uneven gasps. She hated how easily he could draw such sounds from her. Hated even more that he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. His mouth returned to hers once more, his kiss slower this time, deeper and far more sensual. Ambrose almost drove her insane with the movement of his tongue, and she struggled to keep herself upright.

His finger teased her entrance and she wanted nothing more than for him to slide it inside her.

“Do it…” she gasped. “Please.”

She moved herself toward him, wanting to beg him but there was no need. His finger slide inside her. There was a pinch and then a slight burn and then …just him. She clenched around him, riding him inside her.

“Oh…” The sensation was unbelievable. It overcame her like a wave bringing colors and moans along with it.

When it ebbed away, he extracted his finger from her.

Her lips parted. She stood motionless for a few more moments, breathing heavily. Then she opened her dazed eyes and searched his face.

“Forgive me,” he said quietly. “That should not have happened.”

“If that is what you wish,” she told him, her tone completely flat with the rejection.