The Duke and His Destiny

by Felicia Greene

  ‘Ah!’ Oh, how was it happening so soon? How could simple kisses feel so powerfully intense when they were between her legs? Brenda, her knees buckling, pulled Selby up through the mass of her skirts with shaking fingers.

  ‘I… I want to look at you. Take me. Ruin me.’ She had never expected to say those words; moments such as these were meant to be promised and then avoided, dangled as bait with marriage as the ultimate gambit. Now, listening to the mute pleading of her body, Brenda wondered how she had ever considered treating such want like a game. ‘Do it now. I do not care.’

  ‘Do not say that. Do not say that you do not care.’ Selby fumbled savagely with his breeches; Brenda gasped as his stiff, proud cock was revealed. He slid his member along the slick, wet channel of her entrance; a savage throb of pleasure shot through Brenda, making her thighs tremble. ‘I care, Brenda. My God, I care, and I know you care, and you will say it.’

  ‘You know what I meant, you frustrating man, I meant that I do not care about all of the things that are meant to follow moments such as—’

  ‘I do.’ Selby pressed against her bud; Brenda whimpered, helpless, clutching at him. ‘I do. And if you do not admit you care, I will walk away.’ He whispered in her ear, his voice husky with passion. ‘It will kill me. But I will walk away.’

  ‘I care.’ The thought of him leaving was unthinkable. Brenda tripped over her words, desperate, caught between agony and ecstasy. ‘I care.’

  With a deep, yearning kiss, Selby silenced every last one of her doubts. Slowly, ruthlessly, allowing her no quarter, he began to sink himself inside her as Brenda gasped.

  He was too big. She was too new. This could not, under any circumstances, possibly work… but even as Brenda acknowledged her doubts they burst into stardust, faded to ash, as a new shock of dark, transforming bliss flowed through her. The worries became false before she had even finished thinking them; there was pain, then there was a raw mixture of pain and pleasure… and then, then everything was pleasure. Everything in the whole world.

  ‘I could spend forever here.’ Selby was still for a long, gentle stretch of time; with his first measured thrust, Brenda shuddered as sparks of pleasure raced through her. ‘It… it feels like being home.’

  ‘Yes.’ The pure physical bliss of him inside her was so strong, it was difficult to speak. ‘Or… or like destiny.’

  ‘Yes.’ Selby’s eyes danced as he thrust again. ‘Like destiny.’

  Yes. This was destiny, true destiny; not subjugation, not slavery, but true union. Union with a man who fit her perfectly, in every sense—a man who could tease her, and please her, and counsel her, and protect her, and - and love her. All at once.

  There could never be enough of him. Not in a day, not in a week—not in a lifetime. When James Selby was concerned, too much was never enough.

  ‘More.’ She whispered the word even as her pleasure grew. ‘More, darling. More.’

  The rug of the dressing room was divinely soft. Brenda lay happily upon it, the faint scent of dust and wax polish tickling her nose as she snuggled closer to Selby. Minutes could tick by, hours, days… why, perhaps a search party could be sent up. The house was large enough to keep them happily concealed for quite some time.

  ‘Well.’ It felt strange, disturbing the air with her voice. Almost as if she were speaking in a church. ‘Now I know what it is like, surrendering to destiny.’

  ‘Yes.’ Selby raised his head to look at her, his face showing a touch of the caution that Brenda felt. ‘And… and how did you find it?’

  Spectacular. Earth-shaking. Utterly, utterly divine. Brenda considered all the descriptions that came to mind, dismissing each one as unspeakably embarrassing, before choosing the words that came closest to the truth.

  ‘Wonderful.’ She pulled Selby closer; there was no need to be elegant, or restrained, when revelling in the man’s naked skin against her own. ‘But… but however long we stay here, surrendering to destiny only once feels far, far too brief.’

  She felt Selby stiffen. Brenda swallowed, preparing herself for disappointment, before sighing with relief as Selby’s arms tightened around her.

  ‘And if we welcomed destiny for a slightly longer time?’ Selby nuzzled against her shoulder, his teeth grazing slyly against Brenda’s skin. ‘Only a little while longer, of course. What would become of us then?’

  ‘Oh, goodness. Ever-so-many things.’ Brenda, swallowing, decided to be brave. ‘From what we have seen, destiny is pushing us towards arenas other than beds.’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Selby looked up, his eyes shining with the same tentative curiosity that Brenda felt burning in her own soul. ‘Like… like altars.’

  ‘Exactly.’ He had said the very word that Brenda had been too frightened to think of; she held him closer, her voice suddenly full of a shy excitement that rippled through both of their bodies in a soft, delicious wave. ‘We would be very churlish to deny destiny the view of us in a church.’

  ‘With flowers, and family around us, and a kindly vicar.’ Selby gently kissed her shoulder, holding her tighter. ‘What is one day given to destiny, really? People give far more time to Seasons, and hunting excursions, and any number of lesser things. One wedding would barely be a gleam in destiny’s eye.’

  ‘Oh, I quite agree. We would barely be putting destiny out at all with one small marriage. If anything, destiny probably requires a little more of us.’ Brenda paused, inexplicably nervous again, before plunging onward.’Perhaps the marriage would need to be quite—quite long.’

  ‘Oh, I would say so. At least a lifetime.’ Selby kissed her shoulder with more force, his words tinged with a touch of the awe that Brenda felt. ‘Perhaps two.’

  ‘Two at least. And can it really be called welcoming destiny, truly surrendering oneself to it, if there are no children? Possibly—but I wouldn’t wish to take chances.’

  ‘I ascribe to your caution. We should have as many children as we wish to, congratulating ourselves on having made the excellent choice to briefly give into destiny.’ Selby’s smile filled Brenda’s heart with something that shone so very, very brightly. ‘And Winston, of course, along with a menagerie of other beasts, including a small horse whose mane can be plaited with ribbons—’

  ‘I love you.’ Brenda let her lips rest against Selby’s skin, sure that she was making a mistake by saying it. Nothing could be this good for this long; nothing could leave her intact in her own self, yet giving everything to another. ‘I do.’

  ‘And I love you, Brenda Hartwell. More than my own soul.’ Selby kissed her neck, his voice full of fervent, trembling feeling as he rested his head against her breasts. ‘And I love destiny as well.’

  ‘So do I. But not as much as I love you.’ Brenda smiled ecstatically, leaning back against the rug with a sigh. ‘And if you begin to love destiny more than you love me… well. I shall have to be very angry indeed.’

  THE END

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