The Last Duke (The 1797 Club Book 10)

by Jess Michaels

  How much she was coming to love him.

  That reality slammed into her and she could hardly breathe.

  “It feels like my responsibility,” he said. “Even if it’s not my fault.”

  She pushed away the realization that had just changed her world and focused on this man and what he needed. “What brought on your anger in there? It was out of character to say the least.”

  “Kline said something terrible. About my father, about my taking on the title. Something I won’t repeat.”

  “And that was all there was to it?”

  He looked again into the darkness, his gaze unfocused and faraway. She felt the weight on his shoulders. She understood it.

  At last he sighed. “I’m not…ready for this, Sarah. Taking his place.”

  “Kit, look at me.” He did so, his dark stare glittering in the starlight. “You aren’t meant to take his place.”

  “Of course I am,” he said, his tone now strained with pain. “It is what I was raised to do.”

  “You were raised to take your place. And I have watched you for years and know you will do that with great honor.”

  His lips thinned. “You know that after feeling my misplaced judgement of you for years? I would not think that would bode well for my future as a good duke.”

  “You could have damaged me,” she said. “I feared you would, but you never did, despite what you thought of me. And aside from that one mar on your character, I know you have intense loyalty to your friends. You are intelligent, you study subjects in order to truly understand them. You are kind to your household staff, I’m certain just as kind to your tenants. Those are things you learned from your father, certainly, but that does not mean you will take his place or rule like he did. You will break your own path, make your own way, with his words as guidance.”

  His expression softened and he stared into her eyes for a moment, almost like he was seeing her for the first time. Like he understood something that had been a riddle before. Then he bent his head and his mouth found hers.

  She lifted into him, winding her arms around his neck as his lips brushed gently, then firmly, against hers. Her mouth opened and he took, just as she’d known he would. She tasted his pain, his desperation, but as they kissed those darker emotions seemed to fade, replaced by desire.

  Only then did he part from her and trace her cheek with one fingertip. “I’m glad you’re here, Sarah.”

  She nodded. “So am I.”

  “I need you,” he continued. “That is a little terrifying, honestly, considering where we began and what is ahead of me. But I do. Will you—”

  He broke off and shook his head, a self-admonishment she didn’t fully understand. “Will I what?” she asked.

  “Come to me tonight,” he finished. “It’s unfair to you to ask. I expect you to refuse.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, feeling no hesitation in that answer even though she should have. But this is what she wanted, to comfort this man she had grown to love. And she wasn’t about to deny either of them what they needed.

  Kit was practically bouncing in anticipation when there was finally a knock on his chamber door hours later. The party, despite the difficult moments, had ended up a success, but he’d been waiting for its end. Waiting for Sarah, because right now Sarah was all that mattered.

  He crossed to the door and opened it wide to reveal her standing in his doorway, still in that fetching blue gown, her hair piled high on her head, like a goddess called down from Olympus. And here he was just a mortal who wanted to worship at her feet.

  She entered the antechamber and looked toward the door to his bedroom with a smile. “The last time I was here…”

  “Don’t remind me,” he said with a shake of his head. “You do not know how many times I wake crying out as I drag you to the shore of the lake in my dreams. Only no one can make you breathe in my nightmares.”

  Her expression softened and she took his hands in hers. “But I did not die,” she said gently. “I’m here with you. And so is Phoebe.”

  She made it seem like everything could be so easy. But nothing felt easy at present, it just felt heavy.

  “When everyone is gone, I think you and I should take Phoebe out in the boat,” she added.

  He tensed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “You know what I said to her that day,” she said. “And you know I’m right. The longer we avoid it, the more fearful it will become. Neither one of us wants her to grow up terrified of what might be.”

  Kit bent his head. She was right, of course. She knew what was best for his sister, she could see past the momentary terror in a way that was difficult for him at present. He wondered at her ability to have so much clarity considering what she had endured herself.

  “And I don’t want that fear for you either,” she said as she stepped closer. “Please.”

  He shook his head at that last word. “I think I am learning that you are impossible to argue with. You will use all my weaknesses against me to win your way.”

  She laughed, and the sound was like music. “Only when I’m right. And you know, what I was going to say is the last time I was in this room, you came to that bed and you kissed me.”

  He glanced at the bed and thought of the same. “You looked so fragile in my shirt. And so damned delectable. I couldn’t fight what I wanted. And right now I just want to…”

  He trailed off and finished the sentence by catching her cheeks gently and bringing his mouth to hers. Unlike on the terrace a few hours before, there was nothing to temper his passions and he dove into the safe haven of her mouth. Of her sigh. Of her surrender as her arms came around him and she drew him even closer.

  The heat between them built, just as it had done in his office earlier that day when he had pleasured her with his mouth. His body had been screaming for release since then. A release he knew he couldn’t ask for. A release he knew wasn’t fair, and yet his cock throbbed as it rubbed against the front fold of his trousers.

  Her hand reached up to settle on his chest as she parted her mouth from his. She stared up at him in wonder, in desire. And then she cleared her throat.

  “Since we were talking about when I almost died—” she began.

  He frowned and stepped away. “That’s a mood killer,” he muttered.

  “Not if you listen to what I’m going to say,” she said. “Kit, that day has made me want to be more bold, more honest, more daring than I’ve let myself be. Life is so short—I understand that better than I ever did. And if I don’t ask for what I want…then I may never get it.”

  He blinked, uncertain of where she was going with this conversation. Wanting to know.

  He tilted his head. “What do you want, Sarah?”

  Her cheeks darkened in color and her gaze darted away from a moment. But then he saw her steel herself, steady herself, and she met his eyes once more.

  “I want to go to your bed, Kit. I want you to make love to me. And I want to give you my innocence. That’s what I want.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  She had shocked Kit. Sarah could see that in the way his mouth dropped open and he stared in stunned silence at her for what seemed like forever. She had no idea if she had gone too far. If he would call her a wanton, a proper label at present, and turn her out onto the street.

  What she did know was that she had to take the risk. She didn’t want regrets. Not asking for this stolen night with him would surely become one of those.

  “Please say something,” she whispered at last.

  He took a step closer. “Sarah, what you’re asking—”

  “Is bold, I know. Unorthodox. But think of my position, Kit. I am no longer in Society. My virginity is not a commodity to be purchased by a husband. I will never have the future I once protected my innocence for.”

  “You don’t know that. Someone like Lord Geoffrey—”

  She held up her hands. “Despite your foc
us on the man, he would never be interested in me. Perhaps as a lover, but he would see me as any other man of his level would. I have nothing to recommend me, and now I am a governess. Besides, I don’t want Lord Geoffrey or any other man I spoke to tonight.” She took a deep breath and dared to move toward him. She traced her hand down his chest, starting at the collarbone, pressing down to his stomach, feeling the hardness of him beneath his proper party attire. “I want you.”

  He grumbled something incoherent under his breath. “You would grant me such a gift.”

  “Knowing you would honor it? That you would take care not to hurt me? Yes.” She held her breath as she awaited his response. She could see him waging a battle in his mind. Desire versus duty. Propriety versus passion.

  “You don’t know how much I want you,” he whispered as he edged closer, caught her hand, drew her flush against him once more.

  “Then show me, Your Grace. Please.”

  His mouth moved to hers, but this time there was no desperation to his kiss. He had decided and now he had all night to take his time. To take her. She knew he would do both. And it would be a night to remember with a man she loved and couldn’t have.

  But she pushed that thought aside and melted into him instead. His kiss burned slow, but burn it did. As he tasted her, teased her, sucked her tongue, her body started to throb. Thanks to his intimate games in the study earlier that day, she understood the throb more now. Understood why her body called to him and how it would answer if he touched her.

  And she wanted that so badly that she almost couldn’t think of anything else.

  Luckily it didn’t seem she had to. He turned her as they kissed, backing her through the door to his bedchamber. He kicked the door shut behind them and maneuvered her to his bed. There he stopped. There he stepped away, and the panic rose in her.

  “Please don’t tell me no,” she whispered.

  “I’m not,” he promised. “But you are giving up something of significance. It isn’t fair not to let you have something in return.”

  She shook her head. “What is that?”

  “Control.” He lifted his hands to his cravat, untying it, unlooping it. She watched, mesmerized, as he shrugged out of his jacket. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it over his head.

  Her heart all but stopped. She’d never seen a man in any state of undress before, and this man was…beautiful. He had a lean, muscular body with taut shoulders and a narrow waist. There was a smattering of chest hair across his pectorals and then it trailed into a most interesting line that disappeared into his trousers.

  “Kit?” she whispered, her voice almost not carrying.

  “Touch me,” he said. “Explore. This is for you, Sarah. Tonight is for you.”

  She swallowed at that idea. Then she reached out a trembling hand and brushed just her fingertips along the muscular plane of his chest. The fibers bunched beneath her fingers, and he smiled as she flattened her palm over his heart and felt it pounding against her hand, matching the heavy rhythm of her own.

  Somehow that helped her, eased her nervousness and gave her enough bold drive to lean closer and press her mouth against his shoulder. He hissed in a breath and his hands came into her hair, tangling amongst the curls. The pressure against her skull, the way his pulse quickened, drove her on. Her fingers clenched against his skin and she glided her tongue lower, tasting the clean maleness of his skin. It was the most potent aphrodisiac, and she groaned as she licked his nipple.

  He jolted against her and tugged, bringing her up straight as he kissed her once more. His hands slid down her body and he cupped her backside, grinding against her. She felt the hard length of him pressing into her stomach, and the erotic electricity of their bodies colliding was unexpected and powerful.

  “Please,” she whispered, mimicking her needy words from earlier in the day.

  He pulled away, smiling down at her, and then he turned her so her back was to him. He slid his fingers up and down her arms, across her shoulders, and then he unfastened the first button of her gown.

  “You looked like a queen tonight,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the triangle of skin he had revealed. “Like a goddess.”

  She shivered as the next few buttons slid free and he parted the back of her gown gently. She leaned into him, feeling his bare skin touch hers and his heat suffuse her skin. His fingers looped beneath the satin fabric of the gown and he glided it forward, down her arms until it bunched at her waist and left her only in her chemise. Her undergarments were the only thing she hadn’t received from the duchesses that night, so she blushed as he saw the truth beneath the borrowed lie.

  Slowly she turned and shifted the skirt to the floor. She stepped out, picked up the gown and carefully draped it over a chair next to his bed.

  “You see that I’m not a goddess, though,” she said. “Certainly not a queen. I’m a woman in a worn-out chemise whose friends pitied her enough to let her play dress up. A woman who pretended she belonged when she didn’t. So if you’re expecting a goddess or a queen in your bed tonight, Kit, then you will be disappointed.”

  His gaze held hers for what felt like forever. Then it slid over her, his pupils dilating. “The dress you wore tonight was very pretty. The jewels were lovely. Your hair was beautiful.” He stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders, stroking his thumbs across her worn chemise straps gently. “None of that is why I saw a queen before me.”

  She shook her head. “But—”

  “You would be a goddess if you were in a scullery maid’s gown or an empress’s. It’s you, Sarah. You I saw, and you I want in my bed.”

  His mouth covered hers and she let out a sigh against his lips. Suddenly she didn’t care about her worn undergarments or the future or the imprudence of what she was about to do. She just wanted to do it. She slid her hands up his arms, clenching the hard muscle of his biceps as they flexed beneath her fingers.

  He drew back and caught her hands, flattening her palms against his chest and drawing them down until they reached his waistband. She bit her lip as she struggled with the buttons along his fall front and finally managed to open them. It fell forward and she caught her breath.

  There it was. This thing she had been told to avoid, to fear, to never have a curiosity about. She’d been a very good girl for a long time, behaving as a lady should. But now she looked at the hard cock between them and all thoughts of being a lady fled.

  Yes, it was intimidating, for he was so very different from herself. But it was also tempting beyond measure. She looked up at him, and he smiled as he pushed the trousers away and stood before her naked, a study in muscle and sinew.

  “What do you want to do?” he asked, his voice rough in the quiet.

  “Touch you,” she admitted on a blush. “I want to touch you.”

  He nodded, silent permission, and she slid her hand around his length. The skin was so soft over that steely evidence of desire and potency. She stroked her thumb over the mushroom head and then down the vein that strained along the shaft. He grunted as she did so and his eyes fluttered shut.

  “Did it hurt?” she asked, tempted to jerk her hand away.

  “No. Not hurt,” he gasped, his tone garbled.

  She had given him pleasure, seemingly just as intense as what he’d done to her in the study earlier in the day when his mouth had covered her sex and awoken every desire she’d pretended away.

  She stroked her hand over him, watching with curiosity to see how he would react. He jerked against her, his abdominal muscles tightening as he grunted in pleasure once more. She smiled. This was power. He was a duke, her employer, a man who could crush her like a bug any time he wanted.

  And she held power over him that she could wield whenever she…

  She stroked her hand again, and he cursed. “You will kill me,” he grunted. “And I don’t want to die like this. I want to be inside of you, watching you shatter.”

  Her eyes went w
ide, but she didn’t resist as he put his hands beneath her chemise straps and glided them down her arms. It was all she wore beneath the fancy gown, so when the thin scrap of worn cotton fell at her feet, she was naked. With him.

  She blushed, turning away as she lifted her hands to cover herself.

  “Please don’t,” he whispered as he caught her hands. “I want to look at you.”

  “No one has ever looked at me,” she said.

  “I realize it’s strange. But you are so beautiful, Sarah. And looking at you is almost as much of a pleasure to me as touching you.” He slid a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up so that she looked into his eyes. “Please grant me that boon.”

  It was impossible to deny him when his seduction was so gentle, so in tune with her fears and her worries. He didn’t judge, which was strange given their past. He just…was. And she wanted to give him everything he desired and trust she would get something in return.

  She faced him straight on and dropped her hands, letting him see her. And he looked. God, did he look. His eyes caressed her, sweeping over every naked inch like she was the goddess he had pretended she was earlier. His to worship. As he stared, her discomfort began to fade, replaced with something else. Something warm and wonderful that spread through her, awakening the same nerves he did when he touched her.

  “I would very much like you back in my bed, Sarah,” he growled, his tone suddenly low and possessive.

  She nodded as he backed her toward that very bed. Her backside hit the edge and he crowded in, his hands closing over her bare hips as his mouth crushed to hers. She opened, swept away by the increasing passion of his kiss, and then she felt him lift her onto the high edge of the bed. Her legs came open and he pushed into the space. She felt his cock at her entrance and shivered at the feel of hard on soft. She braced for his entry, but he didn’t make a move to take her.

  In fact, instead, he stepped away and helped her settle onto the pillows before he joined her, lying on his side as he returned to those kisses that set her on fire and made her want more and more.