Duke in Darkness (Wickedly Wed Book 1)

by Nicola Davidson

  Chapter 7

  Exton had gone to his chamber to disrobe, so she only had a short amount of time to prepare herself, and her bedchamber. While Dawn darted around and lit the extra beeswax candles Lilian had ordered to ensure the room would be bright to her husband’s satisfaction, she stood by her washstand and gave herself a swift sponge bath. Then she donned a fresh chemise and nightgown, and went and sat on the padded stool in front of her dressing table so Dawn could brush and re-braid her hair.

  It felt like several butterflies were leaping about in her belly. That kiss! For a moment she’d thought he might discard all reason and propriety, and ravish her right there, on his desk.

  Most troubling: she might have welcomed it.

  Each time Exton kissed her, it became harder to remember that she’d been in love with another man, and all her grandmother’s rules around correct behavior. Also knowing, well at least for now, that he didn’t have a mistress…

  “Is that all right, ma’am?” asked Dawn, as she tied a blue ribbon at the end of Lilian’s braid.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Then I’d better go. His Grace will be here any moment.”

  Lilian waved her away with a distracted smile, staring at herself again in the looking glass. Indeed, she well knew her husband would be here momentarily. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes even darker blue than usual, and her nipples remained stubbornly taut and sensitive in a way that made her want to cross her arms to hide them. She couldn’t lie—she wanted more of those scorching, toe-curling kisses, on the lips and on her neck. More congenial time spent together, like they had today in his library. For that she would tolerate the dreadful pain that occurred when Exton put his man part inside her.

  A perfunctory knock sounded at the connecting door, and Exton entered her bedchamber. He wore the same heavy silk robe as last time, but tonight, that small triangle of bare, hair-dusted and bronzed chest visible made her squirm a little on the padded stool. If he loosened his robe, would that hair be soft, or scratchy to the touch?

  Firmly suppressing the wayward thought—she had surely tested her yearly limit in questions earlier—Lilian inclined her head. “Exton.”

  “Lilian,” he replied, his voice a low rumble that danced across her skin, making her shiver. “You lit extra candles.”

  She blinked. “Of course. It’s what you prefer.”

  Exton smiled and perched on the end of her bed. Then he patted the space next to him. “Come sit by me.”

  The butterflies began their belly dance again, and she got up and obediently crossed the room to sit beside him. It always put her on edge when they were this close. Even when he didn’t touch her, she could practically feel the furnace-like heat of his skin, and his unique scent enveloped her like a particularly pleasant cloak. It made her want to cuddle against him, and he certainly didn’t want that. “I…ah…”

  “You know what else I’d like?” Exton said in that same low, bone-melting tone.

  “What?” she replied a trifle breathlessly.

  “To see your hair unbound.”

  Before Lilian could think twice about the request, her hands had moved of their own volition to untie the ribbon securing her braid. Seconds later, the mass of golden tresses swung freely to the small of her back. “Is that better?”

  “Much better,” he said, his hands framing her face, and his lips brushing against hers.

  But his hands didn’t stay there, instead sliding to cup the back of her head. As he kissed her, flexed his jaw, then kissed her again, his fingertips threaded through her hair and began a light massage of her scalp. Lilian nearly whimpered at the bliss of it. When tight braids and countless hairpins were a way of life, it was easy to forget how one’s head ached when hair fell naturally. Soon his tongue dipped into her mouth, flicking and dancing with hers, and she couldn’t think at all. Warmth crept through her body, further tightening her nipples to near-painful points, and causing a light pulsing to begin in that secret place between her legs.

  “Exton,” she breathed.

  He ended the kiss, but his eyes were glittering jet. “Get into bed, Lilian. I’m going to prepare you now. With the oil.”

  “Very well,” she said, scooting back to lie on the sheet, her head resting on the pillow. In truth she remained wary of this task, and the hot, unruly sensations it created inside her.

  “Lift your nightgown. Slowly.”

  An odd instruction, but mentally shrugging, Lilian sat up and obeyed. Grasping the hem of her nightgown, she pulled it upward, revealing her ankles to start, then her knees. Once her thighs were revealed a blush heated her cheeks, and she couldn’t look at her own body anymore. Instead she looked at Exton, and nearly gasped at the lust on his face. Such a hungry gaze directly focused between her legs, waiting for her to uncover her womanly parts.

  An imp of mischief overcame her, and she halted to see what might happen. “Is that enough?”

  Exton made a growling sound. “All the way.”

  Falling under the spell of the moment, Lilian lifted her hips, and bunched the nightgown at her waist. Even though the fire in her chamber burned bright and warmed the room, the cool air on her womanly parts made her shiver. Although not as much as when her husband parted her thighs and began to stroke the scented oil into her flesh. Up and down. Around and around. Skating that acutely sensitive place at the top of her mound, penetrating her core with his finger, teasing the soft folds of her sex. It felt good. Too good. The pulsing between her legs became stronger and stronger, and her hips shimmied as she fought the urge to rock against his hand.

  Only whores enjoy the act.

  Reaching up, Lilian touched his arm. “I’m r-ready.”

  Shockingly, Exton ignored her words. Instead, he pressed his thumb harder against that sensitive spot at the top of her mound, and increased the speed at which his middle finger thrust inside her. Even more shocking, moisture gathered at her core, and the air became fragrant with a light, spicy perfume. Thoroughly unnerved, she opened her mouth to demand he stop at once.

  All that echoed in the bedchamber was a ragged, needy moan.

  “Yes, that’s it,” rasped Exton, as his wicked fingers continued to dip and swirl and stroke between her legs, coiling the delicious tension to breaking point. “I want to hear you. Want to see you come.”

  Lilian writhed on the bed, her heels near-gouging the sheets as her body demanded more, more, more of the sensation. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear another moment of the sweet throbbing ache, her world splintered, and a low cry burst from her lips as pleasurable rhythmic pulses started at her core and rolled outward, like waves onto a lake shore.

  For a second she lay languid, boneless in the aftermath as she struggled to gather her scattered senses. Then panic set in. Was she now a whore? Had she killed an innocent baby in her enjoyment of this act?

  Wait. No.

  Exton hadn’t yet put his male part inside her or released his seed. This was just, as he called it, preparation. As long as she didn’t take any pleasure during the rest of the time he remained in her bed, it would be fine.

  Relief hit hard, and all the air whooshed from her lungs. Despite the intense intimacy of the act, shyness overcame her, and she could hardly meet Exton’s gaze as she gave him a tentative smile. “Thank you. That was lovely.”

  He’d achieved a victory, given his wife her first orgasm, and in perfect duchess form, she’d graciously thanked him like it had been an adequate night out at the theater. If his cock wasn’t hard to the point of agony at the sight of her pink and glistening cunt, damp not just with the oil, but her own fragrant juices, Gabriel might have laughed.

  But whether Lilian realized it or not, she had just confirmed what he’d suspected. She might be inexperienced and repressed, but a passionate woman lurked beneath the proper shell. And now he knew she could unshackle herself from rules and propriety and surrender to pleasure, he could do nothing less than teach her exactly what her body was capable of. Not a
mere low cry, but screams of ecstasy. Not just dampness, but so wet that juices trickled down her inner thighs. Not gentle, pulsing orgasms like the one that had just caressed his finger and thumb, but wild, wrenching spasms that launched her to the stars.

  Oh yes, he would teach her. And also about erotic points on her beautiful body that she probably didn’t even know existed.

  “Glad to hear it,” he replied, reluctantly removing his hand from between her legs.

  Lilian blushed. “I wasn’t told of preparation being like that.”

  “Of course not. If all ladies knew about orgasms…they would demand nothing less. Husbands would have to step up. Or lovers be found. Pleasure a goal, not a sin. Imagine.”

  “I think perhaps many ladies don’t have patient and considerate husbands,” she said, giving him that shy smile again as she rolled her shoulders and flexed her toes.

  Hell. Every time she shifted on the bed, a fresh wave of spicy scent invaded his senses. The temptation to lean down and suck her clitoris, to lap the wetness from her swollen labia so he could etch the taste of her in his memory forever, was near overwhelming. But his cock would shortly explode. He had to be inside her.

  “Indeed. But there is more,” said Gabriel, stroking the back of his knuckle against her inner thigh.

  Her eyes rounded. “More?”

  “A lot more.”

  Lilian shivered, looking very nervous, and yet there it was again, that endearing spark of curiosity in her eyes. “Perhaps…perhaps you should take me now? I’m sure you’ll want to retire for the evening soon.”

  Damnation. It seemed nerves had won for the moment. He might have argued the point, that no, he would be quite happy to spend all night here between her thighs making her come, but his neglected erection could be used to hammer a nail right now.

  Gabriel’s hand went beneath his robe to fist his cock, already slick with his own moisture, then he halted. “Alas, I cannot. There is an issue.”

  “What is wrong?”

  “Your nightgown. It is quite in the way,” he lied shamelessly, eager beyond all to see her naked curves.

  “I can roll it up further. Would that help?”

  “No. Better to remove it.”

  Lilian bit her lip. “But I always wear a nightgown in bed.”

  “Are you disobeying?” he asked, hardening his tone into full colonel just because he desperately needed to know the color of her nipples, to see her breasts while he took her. Exactly how ridiculous it was to tell his innocent wife a falsehood to achieve this, he wouldn’t dwell on right now.

  “No!” she gasped. “I just, ah…may I keep my chemise on?”

  Gabriel sighed, as though he hadn’t achieved another victory. While it might soothe her sensibilities, the fine lawn would offer little barrier to his viewing pleasure. “Very well.”

  Lilian’s hands trembled in her haste, but she undid the ribbon of the bloody awful nightgown, and lifted it over her head.

  Christ.

  He’d been correct about the transparency of the chemise, and even better, the lacy scooped neckline offered a tantalizing display. Her breasts were perfect, like something from an erotic painting. Full, creamy mounds tipped with large nipples of the palest pink. A pink that would no doubt darken considerably when they were pinched and sucked. More moisture leaked from the head of his throbbing cock, and Gabriel groaned under his breath. If he wasn’t inside Lilian within the next few seconds, he would disgrace himself entirely.

  “Will you take off your robe?” she asked hesitantly.

  Gabriel stilled. Hell no. “No,” he replied. “Too cold.”

  “Oh. Quite.”

  His wife actually sounded a little disappointed, but he did her a great favor in refusing. This was all too new, too precious to lose to the disgust she would feel at the sight of all his other torture scars.

  Spreading her thighs a little wider, Gabriel settled himself between them, and began rubbing the head of his distended cock against her labia. Her indrawn breath sounded like music to his ears, but Lilian had started to tense. And he could guess why.

  “Exton,” she whispered. “Um, could I ask…will you please be gentle? This part, it, ah, it hurts dreadfully.”

  He didn’t waste time explaining that this interlude would be better without a maidenhead to break, as well as her wetness. As he damned well knew, the mind didn’t discard a bad or painful experience because of a few soothing words. And this would be only Lilian’s second bedding.

  “Of course,” he said gruffly.

  Slowly, with a patience that caused perspiration to gather at his temples, Gabriel parted her blonde bush, and eased the tip of his cock inside. Immediately, her scalding hot inner walls closed around him, and he groaned at the sheer bliss of the sensation. Rocking his hips, he withdrew then entered again and again, each time penetrating an inch further.

  “Ah!”

  Gritting his teeth, he paused. “Am I hurting you?”

  “No. Not exactly. It’s just…I d-don’t know if the rest of you is going to fit.”

  Pure male satisfaction roared through him. Indeed, his beautiful, innocently sensual wife was stuffed full. Watching his engorged cock disappear inside her tight cunt, slick with both their juices, stretching her wide, would be an act he’d never grow tired of. “Only a little more. You are doing splendidly.”

  And just like that, he buried himself to the hilt. Pure instinct took over, starting a wicked game of advance and retreat. Lilian whimpered, and when he met her gaze, her eyes were wide with surprise.

  Oh, yes. Exactly what he wanted to see. The dawning realization that preparation was only the start, that rather than painful, his cock inside her could feel very, very good. Determined to make her climax again, knowing he fought a losing battle to hold off his own before his foot began to cramp, Gabriel shifted position. First he curled her left leg around his waist, before grinding the base of his cock against her clitoris as he thrust heavily.

  Lilian panted, her head thrashing on the pillow and delicate hands clenching the sheets on either side of her body, even as her hips tilted, urging him deeper. “Exton…no…I can’t…”

  “Yes you can,” he gritted out, reaching up to lightly pinch her right nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Come for me. All over my cock.”

  A broken cry left her lips and she bucked wildly. But he held her securely and rode her hard, reveling in the way her greedy cunt gripped and released him in orgasm, demanding his seed until he filled her with violent, gushing spurts.

  Utterly sated, he withdrew and collapsed beside her, resting his head on the pillow, and twisting a lock of her golden hair around his fingers. “Well, madam wife?”

  She burst into tears.

  No. No. No. NO.

  The scream echoed in Lilian’s mind as sobs wracked her whole body.

  Grandmother had warned her of the dire consequences of taking pleasure during the act. And now she had done the worst thing in the world. Succumbed to her hot blood, and killed…

  She couldn’t even complete the thought, it was so dreadful.

  “Lilian?” Her husband went up on one elbow and stared down at her with acute alarm. “What is wrong? Was I…was I too rough?”

  But she could barely comprehend his words when her mind had frozen in bone-chilling remorse at her terrible sin. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’m so, so, sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I swear…it will never happen again.”

  Exton secured his robe tightly around himself, and shifted until he sat beside her on the bed. “Lilian…” he said slowly, one big hand coming to rest on her shoulder in an awkward but sweet gesture of comfort entirely undeserved. “I don’t understand. What do I need to forgive you for?”

  “P-please don’t m-make me say it. It’s too awful.”

  A frown creased his forehead, somehow making his eyes appear blacker and his scar more fearsome. “I’m afraid I must insist.”

  Unable to stop shaking, Lilia
n sat up. She tugged her chemise down before curling her arms around her knees to ward off the chill enveloping her, but right now, she couldn’t imagine ever being warm again. To add to her misery, Exton’s hand had moved to rest on her back, rubbing in gentle, soothing circles. As though he cared. Something he would never do again, once he learned what she had done.

  Lilian dashed a hand across her face in an attempt to stop the flow of tears streaming down her face. “I…I…just killed our baby.”

  Her husband’s hand stilled on her back. “What?”

  “I didn’t mean to. Please believe that!” she cried.

  “Lilian—”

  “It was an accident. I t-tried so very hard to stop it. But I couldn’t. Because I am c-cursed with my mother’s terrible hot blood. Oh God…I’m so s-sorry.”

  In one firm and decisive movement, Exton grasped her shoulders and forced her to turn and look at him. Shockingly, she couldn’t see rage or disgust on his face, still just that expression of utter bafflement. Why didn’t he understand? She had confessed as plainly as she knew how!

  “Lilian. Listen to me. Stop crying.”

  “I can’t!”

  “Stop crying,” he repeated, as his thumbs made gentle circles on her upper arms. “And tell me exactly…what you think you did.”

  She sniffled, trying hard to obey, when all she wanted to do was sob until there were no tears left. “I already told you what I did.”

  “Yes,” Exton continued evenly. How could he be so calm? “But I want to know…how you think you did that.”

  Shame engulfed her, and she couldn’t even meet his gaze. “I took p-pleasure in the act. It kills a b-baby. Grandmother said so.”

  Her husband cursed, and Lilian flinched, steeling herself for his fury. Would he scold for hours? Cane her? Confine her to her room? She had received those punishments countless times in the past, and deserved them all and more.

  “Lilian. Look at me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Look at me.”