The Regency Season: Dangerous Dukes: Marcus Wilding: Duke of Pleasure / Zachary Black: Duke of Debauchery

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!’

‘And the law decreed that money become his upon our marriage,’ she reminded Marcus with a sigh.

‘Then it is a law which should be changed!’

‘Perhaps you and my brother might turn your attention to it when you are not both too busy with other business?’ she returned sharply. ‘As the law stands, a woman’s money becomes the property of her husband upon their marriage. As does the woman herself.’ She shrugged slender shoulders. ‘I had a husband, beautiful homes both here and in the country, servants to care for my every need, what more can a woman ask for from marriage than that?’

Marcus believed a woman could, should, also ask for tenderness, pleasure, laughter, love from her husband. Damn it, if only Julianna had married him four years ago.

But she had not married him, Marcus reminded himself heavily. Would she have done so if he had offered for her before going off to continue the fight against Napoleon? Would she have flowered, blossomed, become all she could be beneath the shower of love and lovemaking he had wished to bestow upon her following the evening when he had danced with her at Almack’s on her eighteenth birthday and realized that the little hellion had grown into a beautiful and desirable woman? A beautiful and desirable woman he wanted for his own.

Marcus would never know the answer to that, because he had not offered for her, had believed he was being gallant by keeping his distance from her, from not declaring himself. Once the war with Napoleon was over, and he was sure he would not as quickly make a widow of her as a wife, there would be time enough for him to go to Julianna and tell her how he felt about her. Instead of this, when he returned to London just months later it was to find Julianna married to another.

And the Julianna who had come to him today was not the same Julianna he had fallen in love with four years ago. That Julianna had still believed in loving and being loved. It was now up to Marcus to show Julianna that tenderness and pleasure did exist, and he had to hope that when he had done so the laughter and the love might follow.

It was a foolish hope, no doubt, but it was better than the past four years he had suffered having no hope at all where she was concerned.

Marcus straightened abruptly. ‘Very well, Julianna, I will agree to become your sexual tutor.’ He almost smiled as he saw her brief look of triumph quickly replaced by uncertainty of exactly what she was embarking upon. ‘We will begin your first tutelage here tomorrow morning at six o’clock. You cannot be seen arriving or leaving here any later than that,’ he advised as her beautiful grey eyes widened. ‘In fact, you cannot be seen arriving unaccompanied, or leaving my home again, at any time of the day or night, as you have today. Not without causing scandal. Which I am sure you have no wish to do?’ He arched dark brows.

No, of course Julianna did not wish to be involved in any sort of scandal, least of all with the dangerous Duke of Worthing. Indeed, she was no longer certain that she wished to come to his home again at all!

It had seemed such a practical solution to her dilemma when she’d come up with this outrageous scheme. A scheme she had believed to have been forced upon her, by the baying of the eligible gentlemen simply waiting for her time of mourning to be over so that they might pursue her. But here and now, in the presence of the disturbing—the dangerous?—Marcus Wilding, she no longer felt as confident in having chosen him, of all men, as the man to instruct her in sexual knowledge.

Oh she had no doubts that this man would more than live up to his reputation as ‘the most accomplished lover in England’; it was her own ability to withstand Marcus’s mesmerizing attraction, the man himself, that she now doubted.

Her deceased husband may have cared nothing for her pleasure in their marriage bed, but that did not mean Julianna had never experienced, never felt, the emotions of lust and desire. And she had felt them all for the man now standing across the room from her.

As a young child she had hero-worshipped Marcus Wilding, and as a young lady newly entering her teen years, she’d had what was commonly called a ‘crush’ on her brother’s closest friend.

That crush had deepened into lustful thoughts once Julianna had been introduced into society, and was able to gaze upon the wickedly handsome Marcus several times a week as they attended the same social functions.

On the occasion of her eighteenth birthday Marcus had gone so far as to invite her to stand up for the first waltz of the evening with him at Almack’s. That he had no doubt done so at the behest of her brother, in order to ensure her success in society, had made absolutely no difference to the love that had burgeoned in her heart for him that evening. Or the desire that had heated Julianna’s body the moment the handsome duke had taken her in his arms, that heat deepening, intensifying, as he held her, his chest and those long elegant legs brushing temptingly against hers as they danced together.

Just a few minutes in Marcus Wilding’s company today had shown Julianna that she still felt at least that unrequited desire for him. Her breasts were so full and aching beneath the bodice of her gown, the nipples sensitively engorged, and there was that uncomfortable heat between her thighs.

Sight.

Marcus had told her that it was the first sense to awaken in sexual desire, and these past few minutes of gazing upon his wicked handsomeness had been enough to show her how true that claim was.

Just to look at this man’s face was enough to cause Julianna’s fingers to itch with the desire to touch the rakish curls that fell dark and thick onto his brow and curled so temptingly about his ears. And the pale, knowing glitter of his eyes as he looked at her was enough to cause a trembling deep within her.

As for Marcus’s mouth—no man should ever have been blessed with such a decadently sinful mouth; he had lips she could all too easily imagine feasting on her body, caressing her skin along with those long and elegant hands.

‘Time is passing, Julianna, and I still require an answer. Will you return here tomorrow morning to begin your lessons, yes or no?’ he pressed.

Yes or no....

Chapter Four

‘Ah, I am pleased to see you have acted upon the instructions I gave before you left yesterday morning and have worn something less funereal for me to gaze upon, for our second encounter,’ Marcus murmured with satisfaction at six o’clock the following morning once his butler, having brought Julianna to him, had removed himself and closed the door behind him.

Julianna had thought long and hard about returning to Worthing House today, and in the end had only done so because she refused to suffer the mockery she knew would be in those pale green eyes the next time they met if she did not.

And she was now more than a little unnerved at finding herself alone with Marcus in the confines of what was obviously his private study. Even more so by the fact that Marcus’s hair was slightly damp from where he must have bathed earlier, that he wore no jacket or cravat over or above his waistcoat, and that his white shirt was unfastened at the throat as he sat behind the heavy leather-topped desk.

As Marcus had informed her yesterday, sight was usually the first of the senses to be pleased by a lover. Julianna had no doubts of that as she found it hard to do so much as breathe, totally unable to look away from the temptation of that open V as it revealed the silkiness of dark curls that no doubt covered the whole of Marcus’s chest. And lower.

‘Do you like what you see?’

It took every ounce of willpower that she possessed for Julianna to slowly drag the heaviness of her gaze back up to meet Marcus’s piercing green eyes, to sweep the moisture of her tongue across lips gone dry before answering him. ‘You should have had your butler inform me on my arrival if the time is inconvenient for you, after all.’

Dark brows rose. ‘The time is perfectly convenient for me.’

‘I—but—you have not finished dressing after bathing.’ It was nervousness that made Julianna point out the obvious.

‘Deliberately so, for your own delectation,’ he assured her huskily. ‘I thought you said yesterday that you also wished for your own senses to be aroused, as much as the man’s? Does the informality of my clothing arouse you, Julianna? Answer me, pet,’ he ordered as she remained silent.

‘I—yes!’ She had been married to John for three long years, and never in all that time had she seen her husband without so much as his jacket during their waking hours, and he had always worn a nightshirt fastened tightly at his throat on those increasingly rare occasions he had briefly visited her darkened bedchamber, before returning instantly to his own adjoining room once he had spilt his seed.

To now find herself gazing upon Marcus’s muscled shoulders and chest, covered only by that thin layer of the finest linen and silk waistcoat, with those tantalizing glimpses of the olive skin at his throat, was—

Julianna took a step back as Marcus rose to his towering and suddenly predatory height behind the desk. He stepped around it to stand before her, causing her to arch her throat as she tilted her head back to look up into the sinfully handsome face just inches above her own.

Marcus had been aware of the trembling of Julianna’s body and the tightness of her clenched hands the moment she entered his study wearing a gown of pale russet, the colour a perfect foil for the richness of the red-gold curls secured loosely upon her bared head. A trembling that testified to her nervousness, despite the challenge in those deep grey eyes that spoke to her stubborn determination not to turn tail and run.

He felt gratified for that stubborn determination, knowing it was, in all probability, the only thing that had brought Julianna back to him. She had certainly looked less than sure she would return yesterday morning once he had issued his list of dos and don’ts for their meeting this morning. Do not wear those widow’s weeds in my presence again, do not wear the unnecessary—and damned annoying—corset beneath your gown, soften the style of your hair, and so it went on, until Marcus felt sure that Julianna had been tempted to tell him to go to the devil with his instructions.

Instead, she had clamped her lips together before departing Worthing House as anonymously as she had arrived, that black cloak once again covering her from head to toe as she stepped into the equally anonymous carriage.

But here she was, after all, Marcus’s cock instantly leaping to attention as he gazed upon that red-gold hair loosely secured at her crown. Unless he was mistaken, and he was sure he was not, she was wearing no corset beneath the becoming russet gown that revealed the swell of the tops of her ivory breasts. Their proximity also allowed Marcus to detect the faint and tantalizing smell of roses upon that luminescent flesh.

‘I—is your study not a strange place in which to—to carry out our second meeting?’ Julianna now asked nervously.

Marcus smiled slightly. ‘The location of lovemaking, even the danger of discovery, can often be an arousing introduction to the act. Do you not find it more exciting being here, in my study, an obviously masculine room that you would normally never have reason to enter?’

She did, Julianna acknowledged wonderingly. There was something so—so forbidden about being in Marcus’s study with him, the only furniture being that huge mahogany desk and the chair behind it, and an ornate Japanese screen beside the bay window. How delicious it was to imagine sitting upon Marcus’s thighs as he sat in the chair, or having him drape her across the width of that desk—

‘You do.’ Marcus nodded his satisfaction as he obviously saw the flush to Julianna’s cheeks and the fevered glitter in the grey of her eyes.

‘Yes,’ she breathed softly, forcing herself to remain unmoving as Marcus lifted one long and elegant hand to begin removing the pins from her hair, the wideness of her gaze fixed upon his bared throat. She could see the way Marcus’s pulse leapt as he removed the last pin and the cascade of her hair fell loosely onto her shoulders and down the length of her spine.

Marcus certainly seemed to enjoy the sight of a woman’s unbound hair, his expression completely distracted as he gazed appreciatively at the silky length of her curls. ‘I believe I shall one day very soon enjoy the painful anticipation of having the feel of this silky flame draped across the bareness of my thighs.’

Julianna’s breath caught in her throat as she tried to imagine under what circumstances her hair might come into contact with Marcus’s bared thighs. Was Marcus saying—was he implying that? Surely there was no reason for her hair to ever be anywhere near the vicinity of his...

‘Have I succeeded in shocking you, Julianna?’ he asked as he heard the softness of her gasp.

Her gaze flew up to meet his. ‘I was merely wondering, considering, attempting to imagine—’ She broke off awkwardly.

‘If one is to truly enjoy lovemaking then not a single inch of a lover’s body should remain untouched, uncaressed, by the other,’ Marcus explained throatily. ‘Every single inch, Julianna.’

Julianna felt completely flustered now as she imagined touching, fondling, caressing the most intimate parts of Marcus’s body. As she thought of exactly where her mouth might be for the silkiness of her hair to lie caressingly across his thighs.

‘You said your anticipation would be “painful,”’ she said abruptly. ‘Why should such thoughts cause you pain?’

‘It would pain a certain part of my anatomy,’ he corrected softly. ‘A part of my anatomy that has been erect with that same anticipation since the moment you walked into my study today,’ he added as she continued to look up at him blankly.

Julianna’s gaze dropped instantly to the front of his pantaloons, her cheeks aflame with heat as she saw the long length of that erection beneath the material. Marcus gripped her chin and tilted her face up, leaving Julianna no choice but to look into those pale green eyes glittering down at her with such displeasure. His cheekbones were taut, his mouth a thin angry line. ‘Whatever you may have suffered at the hands of the man who had no right to call himself any woman’s husband, it will not be any part of what the two of us will share together. Do you understand me, Julianna?’ he pressed gruffly.

She did understand. In that instant, looking up into those beautiful pale green eyes, Julianna understood exactly what Marcus was offering her. Gifting her. It was the gift of appreciation. For her own femininity. For her beauty. And perhaps even tenderness, for her inexperience. Gifts never bestowed upon her by the man who had been her husband for three long years.

Julianna straightened her shoulders, and she stood several inches taller as she looked up unflinchingly into Marcus’s eyes before answering him. ‘I understand, Marcus.’

He continued to look down at her searchingly for several long seconds before giving a satisfied nod of his head. ‘Good.’

‘I—do you intend to kiss me?’ she prompted as he made no effort to release her.

Marcus drew in a sharp breath even as he felt a nerve pulse in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘Touch does not enter into your instruction for several more days yet.’

‘But did you not say that lovemaking should always be spontaneous?’

He smiled inwardly as he heard the teasing beneath her challenge. ‘I have also heard it said that anticipation is good for the soul!’ he drawled self-derisively.

‘But painful,’ Julianna reminded, the definite light of mischief now in the dark grey of her eyes as she looked up at him.

It was teasing and mischief that gratified Marcus, as he acknowledged he had not seen that playful light in her eyes for some time now, and realized how much he had missed it. How much he had missed Julianna the hellion.

And how much he wished to do exactly as she challenged and kiss her. A capitulation guaranteed to reveal to her that it was in fact the pupil who controlled the tutor.

A knowledge he could not yet give her.

Marcus released her abruptly before stepping back to resume his seat behind the mahogany desk. ‘I believe that to be enough instruction for today.’ Any more of this and he was seriously in danger of revealing how his love for her ruled him.

‘But I have been here but a few minutes—’

‘I have said today’s lesson is over!’

Just when Julianna had felt herself on the precipice of a discovery, she knew herself dismissed. Quite what that discovery might have been she had no idea, only that she had felt something in the gentling of Marcus’s fingers against her chin, seen an elusive something in his eyes, some nuance of emotion she had not quite been able to grasp before a shutter had come down over his gaze, and Marcus had abruptly released her before moving away and dismissing her.

An elusive something that Julianna, aware of this man in every particle of her being, longed to see and to feel again.

Chapter Five

She hesitated. ‘Shall I return tomorrow morning at the same time?’

Marcus looked down the length of his nose at her. ‘That is our agreement, is it not?’

‘And tomorrow is smell?’ Julianna wrinkled her nose delicately at the thought of what form that smell might take.

Marcus’s tension eased slightly and he gave a grin as he leaned back in his chair to watch as Julianna refastened her hair in preparation for leaving. ‘Somehow I do not believe we are thinking of the same thing at all.’

‘Smell is smell, surely?’ she dismissed as she straightened.

‘One might imagine so.’ Marcus nodded slowly, eyes hooded by heavy lids. ‘Have you ever smelt yourself, Julianna?’

Her eyes widened indignantly. ‘I will have you know that I bathe at least once a day, sometimes twice!’

‘I am gratified to hear it,’ he drawled, all too aware of how many of the ton chose to try to hide their unwashed bodies beneath strong perfumes. Try. Because they never quite succeeded. ‘That is not the sort of smell I am referring to, Julianna. Everyone has a subtle, natural perfume, one that a lover inevitably finds themselves drawn to.’

Such as lemon and sandalwood, and clean healthy male, and an underlying musk Julianna was sure was all Marcus, and which had drawn her to him when he had stood so close to her just a few minutes ago.

‘Your own perfume is that of roses, with an underlying scent of desirable woman—’ He broke off as Julianna’s cheeks flushed a fiery red. ‘You know, of course, of the fluid a man emits during lovemaking? Obviously you do,’ Marcus answered his own question grimly. ‘But have you never smelt the perfume of your own unique arousal? Touched, and perhaps breathed in the scent of the arousal which dampens your thighs?’

Julianna was too shocked now to even gasp. ‘Certainly not!’ But she had, Julianna acknowledged wonderingly, as she recalled the dampness she had noticed when she’d returned home yesterday after being with Marcus, something she had never ever experienced in John’s company, in bed or out of it.

Because she was aroused? Because just looking at Marcus, smelling that lemon and sandalwood she would now always associate with him, and discussing such intimacies with him, had caused a desire she’d never experienced before? If that was so, then what would happen if he should touch her with that same intimacy?

‘Sound,’ Marcus murmured appreciatively.

Oh dear Lord, had she really just groaned out loud just thinking of having Marcus’s hands upon her? She had, Julianna acknowledged restlessly, knowing she had given a low and husky groan of longing as heat flared between her thighs.

She gave an agitated shake of her head. ‘You are right, it grows late and I should leave.’

And, much as he might wish it otherwise, for the moment Marcus knew he must let her go.

But his thoughts were grim as he recalled the look of disgust on Julianna’s face moments ago, when he’d talked of the result of a man’s arousal. Even worse, her pained expression, her surprise, her curiosity, when he’d talked of a woman’s physical reaction to lovemaking made it evident that she had never experienced that arousal with John Armitage.

Damn it, had the man shown no consideration at all for Julianna’s innocence? Was it really possible, that even on their wedding night, Armitage had taken Julianna’s virginity without caressing her, reassuring her, loving her, without giving her any preparation at all? That the other man—damn and blast Armitage to hell!—had just parted her thighs, climbed on top of her, taken his own pleasure, and then left her shaken and disillusioned? And that each subsequent taking had been equally as inconsiderate and brutal?