Julianna felt the blaze of colour in her cheeks as she once again acknowledged that she had not thought this situation through properly before coming to the duke’s home so early in the morning. That nowhere in those plans had she considered the... the intimacy of having Marcus Wilding talk to her of such things, let alone—let alone...
‘I only wish for you to instruct me, not—not—’ She drew in a deep breath. ‘It is my intention the instruction shall take a verbal form rather than a physical one.’
‘And it is my “intention” it shall not,’ Marcus assured her dryly, hands clenched at his sides as he resisted the impulse to put Julianna across his knee, before throwing her gown up to her waist and administering several slaps to her bottom until those rounded cheeks glowed a delicious red.
The thoughts of which caused his cock to engorge instantly and pulse hotly inside his breeches—making a mockery of his suggestion that he may not find Julianna attractive enough to attain an erection.
Everything about her aroused him, from the rich red-gold of her hair to the beauty of her face dominated by those full and sensuous lips, the creamy swell of her breasts to the slenderness of her waist and the fiery thatch of curls that he was sure protected those other equally as full and sensuous lips between her thighs.
And she dared ... she dared come to him and attempt to blackmail him into teaching her of physical pleasure. ‘Take off your cloak,’ he repeated uncompromisingly.
Julianna’s fingers trembled slightly as she reached up to her throat and unfastened her cloak before easing it from her shoulders to stand before him in her plain grey silk gown.
‘Place it upon the chair,’ Marcus instructed gruffly, waiting until she had done so before adding, ‘And now take off that ugly bonnet and release your hair.’
Once again, Julianna faltered, this time in the act of placing her bonnet on the chair beside her cloak. ‘Release my hair?’
His mouth twisted derisively. ‘Your first lesson shall be to learn that a gentleman considers the only reason for a woman to pin up her hair to be so that same man might enjoy the pleasure of watching her unpin it.’
She gave a puzzled shake of her head. ‘I do not recall my husband ever—’
‘The inadequacies of your dead husband have no place here and now between the two of us!’ Marcus Wilding’s eyes glittered in warning.
‘But—’
‘If I agree to your request then here, in my home, there will be only the two of us, Julianna,’ he continued determinedly. ‘No past, no future, only the now.’
‘The now?’
‘Indeed.’ His mouth twisted as she remained as still as a statue. ‘Lovemaking is a feast for all the senses, Julianna. First sight, then scent, followed by taste and sound, and lastly touch. I have decided we shall begin today with sight, after which we shall add another sense with each successive day that follows. I have already seen that you are beautiful enough, curvaceous enough, your breasts full enough, to have caught the imagination of your lover. Now that lover would have you release your hair for his delectation.’
The trembling that had begun in Julianna’s fingers now coursed through the whole of her body, sensitizing her skin. Her breasts felt full and heavy, the red berries at their tips becoming engorged against the fabric of her gown. The place between her thighs was hot and aching, as she knew herself to be the complete and intense focus of Marcus’s green gaze. A determined gaze that did not ask but demanded that she obey him.
Chapter Three
Her hands dropped back to her sides in protest of that demand. ‘It was not my intention for our lessons to begin today.’
Marcus gave a humourless smile as he saw the nervousness in those deep grey eyes, despite that determined tilt to her stubborn little chin. ‘The sooner we begin then the sooner this will be over, yes?’
A frown marred her ivory brow. ‘I did not come prepared to—to begin our lessons today.’
‘The most enjoyable and exciting lovemaking has nothing to do with being “prepared,”’ Marcus dismissed her impatiently. ‘The passion, desire, between a man and a woman should always be spontaneous. This is not your marriage bed, Julianna,’ he continued as she made no move to comply with his instruction. ‘There will be no snuffing of the candle, a rustle of the sheets, and then a hasty rutting between your thighs for the two of us.’
Julianna’s face paled with shock, at both the bluntness of his speech and how accurate his description was of those humiliating occasions when John had deigned to visit her bed, before just as hastily leaving again. Occasions when Julianna had been left feeling both soiled and used as she’d risen quickly and attempted to wash away all trace of John’s invasion, before stripping and remaking her bed with clean sheets and then crawling back beneath them to cry herself to sleep.
Marcus instantly had cause to regret the force of his anger as he saw the way Julianna’s face had paled, proving that the scorn he had cast upon her marriage bed was correct. And if that was so then it was no wonder that Julianna wished to learn if there was a more tender side to lovemaking.
But it was a tenderness that Marcus knew he was in no mood to give her today.
‘Why did you never tell your brother of your husband’s brutality?’ Marcus had no doubts that Christian would have taken action if he had known the full extent of Armitage’s cruelty to his beloved sister.
She gave a humourless smile. ‘Tell my brother what, exactly? That John had only pretended to love me before we were married? That he wanted me only because of my name, and my wealth and position as the sister of a duke? That, and for me to give him his heir?’ She gave a scathing shake of her head. ‘There are dozens, hundreds of such marriages like that in society, so what right did I have to complain once I learned that mine was to be no different from so many others?’
She was right, of course; society married for prestige and fortune rather than love. So it was, so it had always been, with the very rare exception of a love match. Marcus’s own parents had married because of their names and fortune, and then been lucky enough to fall in love with each other after they were married. In marrying Armitage, Julianna had not been so lucky.
‘He did not beat me, was never cruel to me in public,’ Julianna continued flatly. ‘He did not deny me my friends, gave me a generous allowance—’
‘Of your own money!’