A Duke's Dilemma

by G. L. Snodgrass

  Tomorrow, the rest of her life, it was uncontrollable. But tonight was to be hers. At least once in her life.

  His eyebrows rose in obvious surprise. Followed almost immediately by a hungry look that warmed her soul. Please she thought.

  He continued to watch as her fumbling fingers slowly undid each button. Her heart pounded but she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted this more than anything in the world.

  “Meg,” he said with a heavy sigh.

  Please, she silently begged. Do not reject me. My heart could never survive.

  “Meg,” he repeated. “I can make no promises. My future is not my own.”

  She swallowed and pushed her dress off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, “I don’t want promises. I just want tonight. Please.”

  He studied her for a long moment then grinned a sly smile, “God, woman, you would tempt a saint.”

  She undid the knot and let her slip join her dress. “I don’t need a saint.”

  “Good, because I am as far from a saint as it is possible to be.”

  Standing before him in her small clothes sent a thrill through her. She adored the way his eyes traveled over her body. The way he licked his lips as a great hunger ate at him. It filled her with a sense of female power.

  Slowly, she examined him. His broad chest and wide shoulders seemed to fill half the room. His arms looked as if they were made of iron. Without thinking, her eyes traveled down over his lower region. She swallowed hard with surprise to see his excitement.

  Looking back up quickly, she stared into his eyes as the reality of what was about to happen began to sink in. Yes, she thought. She didn’t care about tomorrow. No, she wanted tonight.

  Again, they fell into a long look that pushed aside the rest of the world. There were only the two of them. Nothing else mattered.

  What next? she wondered.

  As if reading her mind, he came to her. Gently lifting her arms so that he could remove her chamise. A quick sense of embarrassment filled her as his eyes traveled over her exposed breasts. The warm air tickled her naked skin sending a shiver through her body.

  He smiled gently before lifting her into his arms, holding her tight, as he kissed her. His bare chest against hers. Skin next to skin.

  Meg sank into him as the fire continued to build inside of her.

  Pulling back, he gently laid her on the bed, then slowly pulled at her small clothes. She raised her hips as he slid them down her legs. Once again, a quick sense of shame flashed through her as he stared at her, his eyes focused on her sex. Every instinct called to her to hide herself. But his eyes demanded that she let him look. And as she knew. She would do anything this man asked of her.

  Slowly, he examined every aspect, silently observing. His eyes narrowed in concentration. She wondered if it was the artist seeing her, or the man. Secretly, she prayed it was the man. While she loved the artist, it was the man she wanted.

  As if answering her unasked question, he pulled down his pants and stood before her fully naked. She gasped, he was so large. So male. So hard. The reaction of a man who wanted a woman, she thought with a secret glee.

  Then, as if remembering something, he suddenly left her. Her heart fell at the thought of him leaving her until she saw his taut backside. Something shifted inside of her. An animalistic need. Biting her lip, she waited as she enjoyed the view.

  When he turned back to her, he held a silk sheath.

  “What is that?” she asked as she tried to understand.

  He smiled gently, “a French Letter, a condom.”

  She frowned. He was using words she didn’t understand.

  “It will stop you from getting with child.”

  Her heart melted. He cared, he really cared. “It isn’t the right time,” she told him.

  He shrugged as he walked towards her. She swallowed, unable to take her eyes from him as he slid the sheath onto his hardness. A moan escaped from deep inside of her. A need filled her as she reached out for him.

  Smiling, he lay down next to her and pulled her into his arms. His lips taking hers.

  She soaked up his warmth. The feel of his hard body next to her. All angles and solid muscles. So different, so special she thought as her fingers roamed, searching, seeking to know everything about him.

  Breaking the kiss, he leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth. “GOD,” she groaned as she arched into him, demanding more.

  His fingers traced down over her waist to find her core and slowly caress her there. She froze, surprised by a sense of invasion but slowly a need began to build inside of her. His finger parted her folds and touched her. Sending her to new heights as he slowly circled and probed, pushing her higher, always higher.

  “God, Meg, you are so beautiful.”

  A quick pang of shame filled her. He thought of her as Meg, a Lady’s maid, like him, a commoner. What would he think if he knew the truth? The thought buzzed in her mind until his finger slowly entered her, throwing all thoughts from her mind. There was only Ian. Only what he was doing to her body. Pushing her ever higher. Creating a demand that must be answered.

  “Please,” she begged as she pulled at his shoulders. She needed him to cover her. She needed him inside of her. That was all that mattered in this world.

  Smiling down at her, he positioned himself between her legs and slowly pushed himself into her. She felt a glorious sense of fullness as she slowly grew to accommodate him.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, he entered her until he reached her barrier. The sense of being possessed was both strange and yet so right.

  Ian froze as he stared into her eyes. Was he surprised? she wondered. Was that what that look meant? Surely he shouldn’t have been. Or, did he not want a virgin?

  Before a seed of doubt could grow, Ian growled deep in his throat with obvious need. She watched as his eyes closed in obvious enjoyment as he pushed into her. A sharp pain registered, almost immediately to be replaced by a sense of fulfillment. As if this was what life was meant to be. Two people coming together to make one whole.

  “Oh, Ian,” she cried as she arched to meet him, rubbing herself against him.

  He lifted up on his arms to stare at her as he pulled back then thrust again and again. She locked eyes with him, rising to meet each thrust. Her body hummed with pleasure as he repeatedly filled her. Driving into her, over and over, pushing her ever higher.

  Ian growled like a lion in the throes of passion, then slammed himself into her and let out a loud moan as he exploded inside of her. Throbbing, pulsating.

  “No. Yes. Oh, My God. Yesssssssss.” Margaret moaned as her eyes flew open when her world dissolved into a thousand new colors while wave after wave of pure pleasure washed through her.

  Finally, after half of forever, she returned to her world. A new person.

  Reaching up, she pulled him down onto her, soaking up his weight. Savoring the feel of him above her. Determined to never forget this moment. She could feel his mighty heart pounding in his chest. I did that to him, she thought with a feminine delight.

  “Oh, Meg,” he said as he rolled to the side. He pulled her into the crook of his arm, the two of them squeezed together in the small bed. Margaret sighed as she shifted so she could rest her head on his chest. A bare leg over his. The solid muscles sent a warm feeling of contentment through her.

  No matter what happened. No one could ever take this from her. Long long into the future, she would be able to hold onto this feeling and know that at least once in her life, she had known what life should be like.

  Content, satisfied, in the arms of the man she loved.

  .o0o.

  Ian kissed the top of Meg’s head and sighed. God, what had happened? He had become lost in his lovemaking. Lost in this woman. There had been nothing but her. It was as if his mind had forgotten everything and become wrapped around sweet Meg.

  The way her perky breasts called to him, full, well rounded with delicious nipples that demanded to be kissed. A trim waist,
that flared out to perfect hips. A flat tight stomach, and a rear end that begged to be squeezed. Everything covered in beautiful, flawless skin that was as smooth as silk.

  And then, to find out the woman was a virgin. He had been surprised. The way she had come to him. The realization made him smile as a possessiveness filled him. He had been her first and he had to admit it pleased him.

  Then there was the way she looked up at him. As if he was of value. Her eyes almost worshipping in their appearance. Him, not his title. Him. It was enough to make a man want to scale a mountain before breakfast and kill a dragon after his mid-day meal.

  Of course, most special was the way it had felt to be buried inside of her. A velvety warmth that encompassed him. Held him, took all of him, and demanded more.

  For the first time in his life, at least with a woman, he thought about tomorrow. And the day after that. A doubt filled him. How had he allowed himself to get into this situation? What would she do when she discovered the truth about him?

  Would she hate him for deceiving her? Would it change her, make her hesitant, a Lady’s maid. Or worse, would she feel as if he had used her. Most women in her situation would. They would feel betrayed. Then, just as quickly, demand a financial settlement. The thought punched a hole in his stomach.

  Women of Meg’s class had to think of their future. They were always but moments from being destitute. An upset employer and they could easily find themselves facing the world penniless and alone. No, a financial arrangement was not uncommon in situations like this. And really, was it any different than marriage?

  What would it feel like to have Meg look at him that way? Nothing more than a financial asset.

  The sickening thought filled him and refused to go away. He would lose her, he realized. Either due to a sense of betrayal or because she would change. Never again would he know the innocent Meg.

  He would have to tell her the truth, he realized. And he would have to live with the results. She deserved to know.

  But not at the moment, he thought as she snuggled into his arms and hugged him. He almost laughed, she was like a little kitten searching for the perfect spot to go to sleep. Well, he could let it wait until the morning. This was perhaps the one time where the truth could wait.

  They both deserved tonight, he thought

  Chapter Nine

  Meg woke to an empty bed and growled with disappointment. Where was he she wondered as her hand searched? Opening one eye she glanced to the window and sighed with relief when she saw the silver moon. She had time. Her paradise was not to end yet.

  Reluctantly, she opened the other eye to find him standing by the stove, staring at her with a strange, probing look. The yellow candlelight cast him in flickering shadows

  He had put on his pants but was still shirtless. He was so tall, so handsome, and so strong. A deep need filled her, a craving that surprised her. Would this feeling be with her always, she wondered. This desperate need to touch him. To know he was real.

  Their eyes locked and she knew he was thinking of what had occurred between them. Her cheeks grew warm but she was unable to look away. Instead, she returned his steady gaze, refusing to deny the joy she had felt.

  “I want to paint you,” he said as he lifted an eyebrow.

  She frowned, “Now?” she asked as she glanced at the chair next to the table.

  “No, not there,” he said. “Later. No, I want to paint you there in bed. A satisfied young woman who has awoken to the pleasures of life. It must be a nude.”

  Margaret’s insides tightened as she swallowed hard. “I … “

  “I must capture your beauty,” he said with a firm confidence. As if he knew this was going to happen.

  Still, she hesitated. However, she could not deny that an excitement grew inside of her. A delicious wildness flashed through her as she thought about all of the rules and expectations she would be breaking.

  It would be Ian capturing for all time what he thought of her. Putting on canvas his inner thoughts. He might very well never say aloud his inner thoughts. But his painting let her know how he truly felt.

  “No one can ever know,” she whispered.

  He smiled slightly, obviously realizing he had already won. “I will not hide your face. It is too crucial. But I promise I will never display it to anyone but ourselves. It will be for us alone.”

  Us, such a beautiful word, she thought. She took a deep breath, should she, was this one more error in judgment. But really, she had no choice she realized. Ian needed this and it was the least she could do for him. Anything to make him happy, to be as happy as she was at that very moment.

  Biting her lip she nodded.

  His smile grew as he stepped to the side of the bed and slowly pulled back the blanket. Her skin tingled from the cold air as her entire body flushed with embarrassment while his eyes roamed over her. A dark hungry look crossed behind his eyes making her insides twist themselves into knots. It was the man studying her, not the artist.

  A shiver traveled through her entire body. So many emotions were all wrapped up together. Embarrassment, hope, fear, and wanton need. The man made the world feel alive.

  He stopped for a moment then shook his head and stepped back. “God, you are so beautiful. It is going to take every ounce of will to stop myself from joining you in that bed once again.”

  She smiled up at him. “Remember, that is your decision, not mine. If I had my way, you would be here, not all the way over there.”

  He laughed as he moved the table, reset the candle then stepped back to look at her again. The artist had returned she realized with a touch of disappointment. Now he was studying her like a subject. Having her turn on her side, placing her arm, rearranging the pillows, draping the blanket over her lower leg, then changing his mind and pulling it back.

  All the while, her body ached for him. The way his muscles moved under his skin, the way his brow furrowed as he concentrated. The twinkle in his eye when he found something he liked. All of it quickly became a delicious moment.

  He made a dozen different adjustments then stood back to study her again, cocking his head to one side for a different perspective.

  “Don’t look at me like I am a bowl of fruit,” she told him with a bit of a petulant whine.

  He laughed then his eyes grew very serious as he shifted back to pure male. “Meg, you are the most enticing creature in the world. Believe me, when I look at you, know that I am thinking about … well, glorious things.”

  A surge of tenderness filled her, yet, still, a feeling of loneliness seeped into her soul. He had placed painting her over being with her. This was Ian, she told herself. she must accept him for who he was. An artist. It was what made him special she reminded herself. He was so much more than merely a poor painter using her for a model. No, he saw something in her that was worth something.

  Besides, the look in his eyes had told her that he would not spend the entire night behind his canvas.

  Forcing herself to remain still, she watched as he began to sketch. His eyes darting from her then back to his work. God, how she loved this man she realized. His artistic talent, his kind nature, his obvious intelligence, and in all honesty, his body.

  And animalistic need bubbled inside of her. A feminine desire for a strong mate. What would her father say if he knew her daughter was posing nude for a penniless painter? The thought sent a shiver through her.

  “Are you cold,” he asked as he jumped up to put a log into the small stove.

  She shook her head, terrified to speak lest she expose her fears. He returned to sketching. As she watched, a small smile began to cross his face. He was enjoying himself she realized, he must feel as if he was capturing what he wanted.

  Once again, he examined her, his eyes roaming over her from head to toe. Then quickly he started drawing again.

  It was like being worshipped she thought with glee as she gave herself a mental hug to hold in the squeal of delight she felt. A man like Ian was worshipping he
r. It was the kind of a feeling that a woman desperately wanted. A feeling of specialness. Of knowing the man she loved approved of her. Wanted her.

  Sighing, she allowed her mind to drift. What would their life be like if she truly was a Lady’s maid? Would they be together forever? Her heart hitched when she remembered his words. ‘My future is not my own.’ What had he meant?

  Was there another woman somewhere? Was he already promised to another? The thought sent a bolt of pure pain to her heart. No, it was impossible. He couldn’t look at her that way if he cared for another. Surely?

  And what of her? She had lied to him as to her true self. What would happen if he discovered the truth? It would all be lost, she realized. There would never again be such a moment. It was impossible to imagine him treating her like a Lady’s maid again. No, things between them would become formal. Awkward.

  This can’t be forever, she reminded herself. No matter how hard she wished it could. Reality would not allow it. Her world would never accept him. And obviously, his world didn’t have room for her.

  A sense of sadness began to flow into her again.

  “No,” he called out. “That smile. I need that smile.”

  She tried to smile once again, but her lips ached, her cheeks refused to work as they should. There was too much sadness in her future.

  He shook his head. “Think Meg, remember what it felt like. The sweetness of our kiss. The way your skin felt to be caressed. The explosion of pleasure.”

  She swallowed hard as she fought against a sense of embarrassment. To have such things said aloud. To know that he knew her feelings was overwhelmingly shocking. Licking her lips she recalled every moment of their joining.

  But, no smile returned. Instead, she felt her body grow warm with need.

  Ian seemed to accept the situation and returned to drawing. As she watched him, her heart melted. How could she be happy when the future looked so dim.