The Mad, Bad Duke (Nvengaria #2)(76)

Alexander had been twenty years old when he’d gone to the temple of Eros to study, part of his training to take up the mantle of Grand Duke. The first month had been nothing but meditation, calming the mind and learning awareness of every part of the body.

The second month had been spent with two women who’d taught him the art of massage and soothing by touch. Not until he’d been at the temple eight weeks had he had any full sexual encounters.

Alexander skimmed his hands along Meagan’s arms, fingertips just brushing her skin. She half-turned in his grasp, seeking his lips, but he moved his head so she could not kiss him.

“Not yet, love,” Alexander said. “I will tell you when.”

Meagan made a frustrated noise. “I am feeling quite desperate.”

“As am I. But we wait.”

She shivered, and Alexander warmed in satisfaction. For a half hour since they’d come to her bedroom and nearly torn off each other’s clothing, Alexander had been stroking her skin, touching nothing more intimate than her breasts and then only fleetingly.

He was hard with longing, but he’d learned how to placate his needs and keep himself ready but not over-eager. He’d always been able to control his urges—that is until the love spell had overpowered him. But what Myn had taught him tonight reminded him of the control he’d learned in the temple, which worked to help calm the spell without erasing it.

Make desire wait. Make it want.

Alexander trailed his fingers to Meagan’s thighs, feeling her strong muscles beneath soft skin. Across her abdomen now, drawing a slow hand over her belly. He massaged, fingers kneading, barely touching the swirl of hair above her opening. At the same time, he nibbled the shell of her ear, sharp nips to arouse her.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered.

Meagan made a small sound of satisfaction, her eyes closing. Alexander’s command of English stayed with him, no longer scattered as it had been when the love spell had first taken him.

“My heart,” Alexander murmured as he continued to nibble Meagan’s ear.

Meagan’s breathing was coming fast, her skin flushed with need. “Alexander, I want you.”

“I know you do,” he answered softly. “But not yet.”

“Whyever not?”

He wanted to smile at her indignation. “You will like it better for the waiting.”

“Surely there cannot be much more to do,” Meagan said, attempting to sound reasonable. “We did not wait before.”

Alexander licked her earlobe. “Because the frenzy caught us before I had a chance to teach you. There are so many facets of pleasure to explore that we could spend years learning them.”

Meagan blinked. “Years?”

“Do not sound so alarmed, my love. You will enjoy every moment of it.”

She wet her lips. He leaned down and licked them, catching her sweet taste.

Alexander had never been with a woman he’d felt so comfortable with. No, comfortable was the wrong word. Comfort implied the end of excitement, and Meagan excited him in countless ways. It was more that he was happy to be with her, all the time, in bed or out of it. He wanted to spend days with her, exploring, learning, teaching.

He’d pleasured women during his affairs but the pleasure had been calculated and precise—he’d satisfy his lover while he remained in complete control. Losing control, even briefly in orgasm, was dangerous for him. Alexander had never said one word, or spoken one endearment, or even cried out a name in his bed, because anything might be used against him the next morning.

With his wife, Alexander hadn’t had to be quite as tediously careful, but he and Sephronia had always known they were in bed for one reason—to produce a child to carry on Alexander’s line. Once that had been done, Sephronia and Alexander had led separate lives. In public they appeared together—they had made an efficient team—but in private they rarely saw each other.

Now Alexander had a woman with whom he did not have to guard his every word, an innocent he was free to love as much as he wanted. He didn’t need to get a child on her, although he would not mind another son or daughter to carry on his shoulder.

He could do with Meagan things he’d longed to try but did not dare because he’d never found a woman he could trust.

Alexander lightly massaged her shoulders, bending to nibble his way across them, leaving light teeth marks in her skin.

Meagan let out a giggle. “That tickles. Am I supposed to laugh?”

“Laugh as much as you want. I love to hear you laugh.”

“What is that for?” Meagan pointed curiously at a tiny brush and small ceramic pot resting on the night table. He’d retrieved both from his desk before he’d come in.

“I will show you.”

Meagan’s eyes widened. “Oh, yes? What do you intend to do? Write a letter?”

He bit back amusement. “Do not worry, it will wash off.”

Meagan watched in alarm as he reached for the pot and brush, the interlaced tattoo on his upper arm flexing in the candlelight. As Meagan kept her gaze on him, watching in both interest and unease as Alexander opened the pot and dipped the pointed brush into the ink.

He steadied his hand on Meagan’s back and began to trace on her shoulder a thin design similar to his tattoo.

Meagan shivered at the strange sensation but she held very still. “Did the first Grand Duchess like to be painted on?”