Much Ado About Kissing (Howertys #4)

Chapter 13: Four

Marcus leaned his head against the door and closed his eyes. How could she have kept this from him for two years? He had believed the worst all this time, only to find out it was not true. Anger and relief washed through him, and he wasn't sure which was the most prevalent emotion. To know she had not slept with his brother was a great relief, but realising she had knowingly kept the truth from him, directly torturing him by letting him believe she had... It was infuriating. And deflating.

Did she care so little for him that she had no compunction about letting him dwell on this false assumption for years? He groaned. Apparently so. His hand fisted, and he hit his thigh in frustration. This was not part of his plans to save their marriage. For him to have any chance at all, he needed her to not hate his guts. He thought they had made some progress in the last few days, but perhaps not. Unless this counted as progress. It certainly did not feel like progress. It felt like a punch in the gut.

And yet... She had not slept with Dash. He opened his eyes again, his eyes falling on a painting on the other side of the hallway. One of the many ancestors of the Winterbourne line. He didn't know the man's name, but the portrait stared down at him. Judging him. Taunting him. Surely no other Duke of Winterbourne had fled his wife's bedchamber.

Latching onto his wounded feelings and anger, he opened the door and went back inside. The room was eerily quiet. Even the cats were still as if they could sense that something was amiss. Rain lay in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin. Was she asleep?

He padded over to stand next to the bed, staring down at her. It reminded him of the other night, when she had lain there deathly pale, but tonight her cheeks had a healthy glow and her breathing was calm. Her eyes fluttered open and widened as she caught sight of him.

"Marcus!" She scrambled into a sitting position. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, I—"

Her apology was interrupted by his mouth capturing hers in a searing kiss. Coming onto the bed, he buried his hand in the silk of her hair as he cradled the back of her head. His tongue stole across her lips, taking advantage of her surprise. Kissing her was like tasting a piece of the rainbow. All lights and colours.

He half expected her to push against him, maybe slap him, but she moaned and melted into his arms. No matter what her reasons were for having agreed to marry him, at least she was attracted to him. He could work with that. Fuelled by a mix of anger and desire, he leaned her back against the pillows, following to cover her body with his. She felt amazing in his arms. Soft and warm.

Not entirely sure what his plan was—doubting the fact that he had one at all beyond wanting to touch his wife—he abandoned her mouth to drag his lips across her jawline to her ear, kissing and nibbling his way down her neck. Her hands came up to slide around his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hair at the back of his head. She was gloriously sensitive to his touch, gasping as he palmed her unbound breast through the fabric of her nightgown.

His skin felt warm and feverish, the desire for her burning hotly under the surface. This had been a terrible idea. He wanted her so desperately that his body ached for her. The way she responded to his caresses and kisses didn't help, every moan and gasp spurring him on further. Impatiently, he pulled on the collar of her nightgown to reveal her pert breast. When he captured her nipple in his mouth, she bucked underneath him, her fingers at the back of his head almost painful as they gripped him. With a low growl, he nipped at her, rewarding him with a low moan.

While he continued to lavish his attention on her breasts, his hand slid up the soft skin of her thigh, pulling the nightgown along with it. He wanted to feel her. Taste her. He wanted all of her. His hand stilled as realisation hit him. If she had not been with his brother... She was most likely a maiden. Unless she had sought comfort in someone else's arms. But he highly doubted that. Her request not to consummate their marriage made a lot more sense now. If she was a maiden, that was yet another piece of evidence that he was impotent.