Tall, Duke, and Dangerous

by Megan Frampton

  She made a soft, muffled noise of pleasure in her throat, her mouth open wide to let his tongue in, her fingers sliding back and forth on top of his erection.

  Her skirts rested just above her knees now, and he reached below them to find the soft skin above her stocking.

  His fingers were on her thigh, caressing her as his other hand moved further up to clasp around her breast. Its fullness filled his hand.

  He hadn’t seen her breast yet.

  He wanted to suck and lick her nipple, make it stand proudly for his attention. He wanted to kiss his way from her neck down to her toes, lavishing attention on every single delectable part of her.

  He wanted to thrust inside her soft wetness, hear her moans of pleasure as he took his time to discover what pleased her the most.

  She broke their kiss, and he braced himself for the inevitable refusal. After all, he’d done the same to her.

  “Touch me,” she said instead, wriggling the leg he was holding.

  That was not what he’d expected.

  “You want me to—?”

  She nodded. Her face was flushed, her lips were already red and swollen. She looked so desirable he felt as though he might explode.

  “Touch me there. I want to feel it.” She put more pressure on his cock. “Just as I want to feel you.”

  He groaned at her touch. “You’ll have to stop that if you want me to pay attention to what I’m doing to you.”

  “You’re not doing anything yet,” she teased. “Go ahead. I’m waiting. Do it.”

  He grunted, sliding his fingers further up her thigh, finding the crease where her leg met her body. Moving to the right to the soft curls, entwining his fingers and petting her, preparing both of them for what was to come next.

  Which was hopefully her.

  He lowered his mouth to her ear, kissing the skin just below. “I’m going to put my fingers inside you, Ana Maria,” he said in a husky voice. She shivered. “I want to feel your climax. To feel your pleasure. If you want that, too.”

  “Oh,” she said in a breathy tone. “Oh, Nash. Yes, please.”

  He couldn’t resist her. He slid his fingers down, already feeling how wet she was. “Have you ever touched yourself?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “I’d like to see that. But first, I need to touch you myself.” He rubbed her clitoris with his thumb as he slid his index finger inside her. She moaned, and he began a gentle rhythm, responding to how she moved and sighed, adjusting his movements with every little shift of her body.

  His cock was throbbing inside his trousers, almost unbearably painful. In an agonizingly sensual way.

  He didn’t have much experience with bringing ladies pleasure—he didn’t have much experience in general, if he were being honest with himself. He was better able to channel his urges through violence, although that idea paled now as he felt her riding his hand to her climax.

  “Come for me, Ana Maria,” he said in a low, urgent tone.

  She moaned, and then leaned forward to fasten her mouth on his neck, biting his skin as she began to come.

  She tightened around his fingers, and he relished the involuntary shakes she was making, her entire body caught up in the pleasure of her orgasm.

  “That’s it,” he crooned, and she sagged against him, panting. He stilled his fingers, then withdrew them gently, kissing her neck as he gave her breast one last delicious squeeze.

  “Oh, Nash,” she murmured against him. “That was—that was wonderful.”

  “You are wonderful,” he replied in an equally low voice.

  This was the power he wanted. The power to bring her joy, the power to lure her into an intoxicating experience that would profoundly shake both of them.

  Because he was shaken just as surely as she was.

  He had never felt this intensely connected to anyone before. Not even when he was with his best friend, exchanging quips and reminiscences over whiskey.

  This was power. This was—damn it, he couldn’t name it. Even though his mind whispered it: love.

  And with that thought, he froze, incapable of not imagining what was inevitable afterward. Which was why he could not allow himself to acknowledge it, even though he knew it to be true.

  How could his heart be broken when an orgasmic-spent woman was lying in his arms?

  And yet here he was.

  Goddamn it.

  The carriage slowed to a stop at the worst possible time.

  “Thank you for escorting me home. And—” Her cheeks were fiery red. Anybody looking at her had to know something had happened. But before he could react, the carriage door swung open, and one of Sebastian’s footmen was holding his hand out to assist Ana Maria out onto the sidewalk.

  “Ana Maria!”

  Thaddeus stepped out of the house, a bemused expression on his face as he saw all the bolts of fabric being unloaded from the coach.

  “And Nash,” Thaddeus added, sounding less welcoming.

  “Thad.”

  “Thaddeus, Nash took me to the docks to see the Lees’ shipment, and I was fortunate enough to purchase all of these.”

  Should he be irked that what had just happened in the carriage seemed to have entirely slipped her mind in her enthusiasm for fabric?

  Not that he wanted her to possibly reveal any of what had happened—that would definitely raise some questions he did not want to answer—but he’d like it if she weren’t as excited about her fabric bolts as she was about her carriage orgasm. It seemed as though there should be a hierarchy of excitement, with the latter ahead of the former.

  But he didn’t care about fabric, so what did he know?

  “Took you to the docks?” Thaddeus repeated.

  Sebastian stepped outside, too, his eyes narrowing as he saw Nash’s carriage and Ana Maria.

  “So that is where you have been.” His sharp gaze seemed to peer inside Nash, making him want to shift in discomfort. Him. Nash. Shifting in discomfort?

  That was not who he was.

  She was changing him. Because of her he was changing himself.

  “Would you excuse us, Ana Maria? I need to speak with Nash.”

  “If you’re angry with him for taking me there, you shouldn’t be.” Ana Maria took Nash’s arm as she spoke. “I was going to go on my own, but he insisted so I would be safe. So you see, it is perfectly acceptable.”

  “Why don’t you go sort your things out in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs?” Thaddeus said, making it sound less like a question and more like an order. “You can have a room for your projects, if you like.”

  “I will, but promise not to rake Nash over the coals. He was there as protection,” Ana Maria said. She stooped to pick a yellow flower from one of the potted plants on either side of the steps, handing it to Nash.

  “Thank you for a wonderful day,” she said in a low tone, one only he could hear. “Especially for—” And she met his gaze, her eyes warm and knowing.

  “You are welcome,” he said, holding the flower. “Let me know when you can come over for more defense training.”

  Her lips curled into a sly smile. “More defense training? Yes, I certainly will.”

  She gave him one last look, then turned and ran up the stairs, already calling instructions for where to put her purchases.

  “Inside, Nash,” Thaddeus said. This was definitely an order. And Nash knew whatever the two of them had to say would be said eventually, so he might as well get it over with now. He tucked Ana Maria’s flower into his pocket and strode up the stairs, knowing that whatever they were concerned about was nowhere near as scandalous as what had just happened.

  “Well?”

  Nash lounged on Thaddeus’s sofa, stretching his arms over its back. He’d hoped that Thad would order brandy, but apparently whatever needed to be said was best done without alcohol.

  Which definitely meant Nash did not want to hear it.

  Sebastian spoke first. “I’ve heard that you and Ana Maria are spending time to
gether.”

  “And we know that your grandmother is here to ensure you marry soon,” Thaddeus added.

  Their suspicious expressions matched each other in intensity.

  Nash narrowed his eyes. “And that is a problem?” He rose, feeling the sudden urge to pace. “Not that it is any of your business, but Ana Maria and I are friends. As we have always been.”

  Friends who explore one another’s mouths with their tongues, but Nash would not share that.

  “You have no intention of marrying her?” Sebastian said.

  “Are you upset that I have no intention of marrying her, or are you upset that I might intend to marry her? You two are damned hard to read.”

  Sebastian snorted. “As though you aren’t impossible to read. We don’t know what is going on. Nash, can you explain it to us?”

  “Why should I?” Nash glanced between Sebastian and Thaddeus, his ire growing by the second.

  Not that he knew why he was so damned mad, except that he did not like being scolded by his friends.

  “Because Ana Maria is under my protection, and she has many suitors.” Thaddeus spoke in his most pedantic manner, and Nash’s fists curled in automatic response. “We are concerned that she will not give herself the opportunity to know any of these suitors if she is with you all the time. I know many of them are in earnest, they send her roomfuls of flowers.”

  Nash gave Thaddeus a disbelieving look. “As though any of them are worth a tenth of her.” He pointed an accusing finger at Thaddeus. “Do you know one of those suitors tried to compromise her? It was a good thing I was around!”

  “Ana Maria can handle herself,” Sebastian replied. “She always has.”

  “But she has not always been a young lady in Society,” Nash retorted. “She knows how to clean floors and wash windows, but not how to protect herself when some fatuous lord decides she’d better become his bride.”

  “That’s why we’re here.” Thaddeus leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, glaring at Nash.

  Who glared back.

  “I trust Thaddeus to take care of Ana Maria.”

  The words fell onto Nash like a pile of rocks. His anger felt as though it had just sparked to flame with the tinder of Sebastian’s words.

  “You don’t trust me,” he growled.

  Sebastian held his hand up. “Look, we all know there is no one better in a fight than you. But that is not what is happening now. I don’t recall the last time I’ve seen you at a respectable party, and yet you’ve been attending them this past month. Why? To find a bride? To watch over my sister? You are so damned oblique, I have no idea what you’re thinking.” It was a common refrain. Sebastian had been saying the same thing since they’d become friends so many years ago. And Nash couldn’t say it was because Sebastian hadn’t asked; he always asked, long after Nash had clamped his mouth shut and refused to say another word.

  Damn it. There was an ultimate price to pay for not speaking. And now he couldn’t possibly tell them how he felt about her. Not because it was wrong or inappropriate, but because he simply didn’t know, and he didn’t want to expose his confused state to them.

  “You don’t have to tell me why you’re there, acting very un-Nash-like. Dancing with ladies, wearing a cravat, not getting into fights.” Sebastian sounded wary as well as amused. “But one thing you don’t have to do is watch over Ana Maria. Thaddeus has to take his place in Society, and part of his duties is to ensure Ana Maria gets as much opportunity as she can. If people see her with you too often”—he paused, then took a deep breath—“well, they’ll be too intimidated by you to even approach her for anything.” His voice softened. “Ana Maria doesn’t have many friends.”

  She has me.

  “Even if it weren’t about finding the right husband for her, I’d want her to have the space to find friends, ladies in her own class.”

  Nash growled. “Because her friends in the servant class don’t count?” He glared at Sebastian and Thad. “I’d expect that kind of snobbery from the ex-duke here, but not from the military man. Isn’t that where men go who have only their mettle as wealth?”

  Thaddeus shifted uncomfortably.

  “Be reasonable, Nash.”

  As if I could.

  “You are supposed to be finding a woman to marry yourself,” Sebastian said. “You don’t have to spend time with Ana Maria just because of your protective instincts.”

  “Besides which, the more you hang around her, the less her other suitors will think they have a chance.”

  Sebastian turned to glower at Thaddeus, who shrugged.

  “What? That’s the point, isn’t it? That we think Ana Maria will be happiest when she is married?”

  “Have you asked her?” Nash stared at both of them, seeing their sudden discomfort. “You haven’t.”

  Not that he had asked her when he’d insisted on teaching her self-defense, but he had asked her when he kissed her. And touched her. And brought her to climax.

  “I can believe Thaddeus wants to march around and dispense orders, but I cannot fathom how you can justify not asking your sister what she wants.”

  “Hey!” Thaddeus exclaimed in protest.

  Sebastian approached slowly, too familiar with Nash’s sudden temper to trust his friend wouldn’t erupt. I wouldn’t do that, Nash wanted to say. “Just think about what you’re doing with her. We don’t want her to get hurt.”

  Nash opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut again. They thought he might hurt her.

  Just what he was terrified of.

  Why was he even spending time with her in the first place? He would only cause harm, he knew that. Especially with what they were doing now.

  But he wanted her to make her own choices, which meant he would have to let her decide, once he’d told her everything.

  Because he couldn’t keep it from her any longer.

  But now was not the time—now was the time for him to sort it out through boxing with Finan, since he couldn’t seem to think properly without his fists.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” he bit out, striding from the room, leaving Sebastian and Thaddeus likely to wonder just what the hell he was going to do.

  Which meant they had that in common.

  “I wonder what they’re all fussing about,” Ana Maria murmured as she surveyed the glorious mess that was one of the spare bedrooms.

  The bolts of fabric were spread out on the bed, with others leaning up perpendicular against the bed. The colors clashed with one another and with the room, which had been decorated in the late duchess’s elegant, spare style.

  Not Ana Maria’s exuberantly loud one.

  She’d ask Thaddeus if she could work on these rooms after she completed her own. Or she’d just go ahead and do it without permission. It was a tiny rebellion, eradicating the duchess’s taste from the house, but it was one that brought her great satisfaction. Even though she hadn’t quite realized that that’s what she was doing.

  “What is all this?” Jane walked into the room holding several pairs of Ana Maria’s shoes, obviously just fresh from being scrubbed.

  It still made Ana Maria feel guilty that someone else was doing that now, but the servants would be appalled and annoyed if she tried to do their jobs.

  “The Lees asked if I wanted to review their goods before they put them on sale to the general public.” Ana Maria gestured to the room. “And I did.”

  “That duke brought you home in his carriage, didn’t he?”

  Images of what had happened in that carriage immediately came to mind, and she felt herself start to heat.

  “And something happened with him.” Jane shook her head as she clucked her tongue. “I don’t know why you don’t just marry that one. He certainly seems to like you well enough, and you him.”

  She did like him. She liked him a lot. But there was something preventing him from trusting her with whatever secrets he held, why he needed to punish himself for his father’s behavior, and she
would not compromise herself no matter how broad his shoulders or how clever his fingers.

  “It’s complicated,” Ana Maria replied, advancing to the bed. She picked up one of the bolts, one of the most lively patterns, sighing in satisfaction.

  “He hasn’t sent you flowers but he likes you all the same.”

  Right. She’d forgotten. The earmarks of a presentable suitor were flowers, nearly all one’s teeth, and looking tolerable.

  Not what she wanted in her life, even if Society thought she should be entirely satisfied.

  No. She wanted to explore, to see what she was capable of when there were no limits on her.

  She did not want to have to return to taking orders or seeming compliant when inside she was frustrated, or angry, or passionate, or concerned.

  She’d done that for the first twenty-seven years of her life. She’d smiled through it, even, and everyone thought she was remarkably good-tempered, given how much she was berated and taken advantage of.

  She’d thought so, too, but that wasn’t the truth, she saw that now. Underneath all the gentle smiles and murmured acquiescence was a furiously proud woman who wanted to decorate in the patterns and colors she wanted, anyone else’s opinion be damned.

  It might seem a silly point, but it was her silly point.

  And that, as she considered it, was entirely the point in the first place, wasn’t it?

  So no, while Nash was most definitely teaching her things she was eager to learn, she did not want to be with him for the rest of her life. Not if it meant hiding parts of herself. Or him hiding himself from her.

  She would not do that for anyone. Or accept it from anyone either.

  “There you are!”

  Ana Maria turned at the sound of Ivy’s voice, her face breaking out into a smile as she rushed to gather her sister-in-law into a hug.

  “You’re here with Sebastian?”

  Ivy nodded. She wore a dark blue color that Ana Maria thought did not quite suit her, and she wondered if she could persuade her sister-in-law to take a risk with some brighter colors.

  Likely she could, since Ivy was all about taking risks, from opening her own gambling house to marrying Ana Maria’s half brother.