A Duke For All Seasons by Mia Marlowe Read Free Book Online Page B

the shelter was a welcome sight.
         Sebastian stopped ahead of her, dismounted and lifted her from the sidesaddle. “Get inside,” he ordered, “and I'll see to the horses.”
         She lifted her soggy skirt and dashed for the door while Sebastian led their mounts to a small shed.
         Arabella expected to be assaulted by dust and mold, but the inside of the cottage was surprisingly clean. Especially since no one answered when she called out to announce her presence. A fire had been banked in the stone fireplace to ward off mustiness and drive the chilly damp from the air. She stirred it with a poker and it flared to life, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney.
         A brace of hunting rifles hung above the mantle. Based on the bearskin on the floor and the general masculinity of the heavy furniture, she surmised this was Sebastian's hunting lodge.
         When he entered the structure behind her, his expression left no doubt of his quarry now.
         He crossed the slate floor in long strides and swept her into his arms. He kissed her. Hard. Giving no quarter.
         She responded in kind, devouring him when he lent her brief control in the kiss. His mouth burned across her jaw and down her neck. His hands worked at the gold frogs at the front of her bodice, exposing her stays and the top of her lacy chemisette. He tugged down one side to cup her bare breast. She moaned when he kneaded her flesh and then tormented her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. When he bent to suckle her, a trill of need sang through her whole body and her knees nearly buckled.
         Arabella had always thought she'd never feel more alive than when she offered up her voice to the god of music. The delights of the flesh were all well and good, but even they had paled in comparison to the rewards of her art.
         Not this time.
         Who would have thought this complicated, rigid man would be the one to set her singing, blood and bone, body and soul?
         She yanked off his cravat and worked furiously to remove his sodden jacket and shirt. Bella tasted the bare skin of his shoulder, smooth and wet, and she couldn't get enough of him. His chest was lightly furred with dark hair that whorled around his brown nipples. She raked her teeth over one and was rewarded with a low male growl.
         He cradled the back of her head with his palm and took her mouth, while she fumbled at the trouser buttons at his hips. Her bare breast pressed up against him, skin on glorious skin.
         She stopped thinking in complete thoughts and could only register disjointed impressions.
         Slick. Hard. Wanting.
         Sebastian pulled out the hatpin and discarded her sad little bonnet. Then he made short work of removing her pelisse and skirt. It was a convoluted process because as sections of her skin were exposed, he caressed and kissed and nipped each needy bit of her. It was as if he were consuming her one delectable bite at a time. She couldn't wish him to stop, however few pieces of her might be left when it was over.  
         Please God, she couldn't even let herself think of an end. 
         She plunged her hands into his trousers to hold his shaft. Long, thick, like a column of granite encased in smooth male skin. The very thought of taking him in made her weak and strong at once.
          After he relieved her of her stays and chemise, he reached around her, his muscular arms beneath her bum, and lifted her off the floor. He carried her toward a waiting couch, toying with her nipple with his lips and tongue while he moved toward their goal.
         He laid her on the overstuffed leather and looked down at her. His hair was wild. His eyes even wilder, glinting with the same lunatic light one saw in a stallion when the mares were in season. His trousers were slung low on his hips, ready to succumb to gravity, his splendid maleness on aching display.
         “This has nothing to