by Gill, Tamara
Josh lathed her flesh until the last of her tremors ran their course through her body. She went limp in his hold, and he sat back, settling her skirts about her body once again.
"Did you enjoy your first taste of pleasure, my darling wife-to-be?" he asked, coming to sit beside her and helping her set to rights the bodice of her gown. He reached down to the floor, picking up her cloak and folding it in his lap.
"Can such pleasure happen every time we're together? On our wedding night, or when we… When we—"
"Make love for the first time." He smiled, taking pity on her. "I should hope that will happen to both of us every time. I would not be doing my duty if I did not please my wife." He tipped up her chin, staring into the bluest eyes he'd ever beheld. Eyes he knew one could lose oneself in if they allowed it. "And I intend to please you. In all ways."
She smiled at him, clearly pleased at his words. "I think I shall like being married to you. How long until we are wed?" she asked him.
He pulled her against him, wanting her close as the carriage meandered its way through London, taking the long way back to the Penworth townhouse. "Not soon enough," he stated.
Chapter 20
The following day Iris, accompanied by her new lady’s maid, Becky, made their way to Hatchards book shop. The store had been a favorite of hers during her first Season, and she had wanted to visit it for several days. Being in London and not Cornwall meant that she would be able to read the latest books available and not wait months for them to be ordered or arrive.
The carriage rolled to a halt before the store, but not before she caught sight of Lady Sophie Hammilyn on the opposite side of the street, speaking with Lord Templedon.
Iris studied the pair, having not known they were acquainted. Well, certainly not as well acquainted as they appeared to be. Watching them, they looked to be friends indeed.
"Miss Bridges," she asked her maid, not wanting to use her given name just yet since they had only just commenced working together. "You worked in London for Lady Dellaware before her passing. Do you know much about society?"
Her maid, a woman past her prime but still young, nodded eagerly. "Of course, Miss Cooper. I know most noble families in town."
Iris pointed out Lady Sophie and Lord Templedon on the street, hoping her new maid would know the pair as well. "Do you know how Lady Sophie is acquainted with Lord Templedon by chance?"
"I do, ma’am. They are distant cousins, several times removed. I believe they share the same great-grandmother."
"Really," Iris stated, watching the pair as they continued their conversation before moving off down the street. "I did not know that."
A footman opened the door, and Iris climbed down. Hatchards rose before her, the scent of leather filling her nostrils even outside the premises. How she had missed this store. More so than she missed balls and modistes. There was nothing quite like a story to sweep one off into a world so much brighter than one's own.
Except, she could no longer say such things. Not now that she had the duke. After last evening, the world paled a little in his presence. His touch, how wicked he was, and marvelous too. She had not known two people could do such things to each other.
It had made her wonder if it were possible for her to do the same to him. She had touched him once, and he seemed to enjoy her fondling. What would happen if her hand was replaced with her mouth, her tongue, just as he had performed?
As shiver stole through her, a heavy aching heat pooled in her belly.
Iris pushed the door to the store open, entering the shop filled with like-minded readers looking for their next great book. She walked about the store, debating what she felt like reading—poetry, romance, horror, so many to choose from.
A little while later, she found herself upstairs. Up in this part of the store, there were few people. Her maid stood beside the staircase, waiting patiently for her to return. Iris walked behind a bookcase, lost in contemplation, when a hand slipped about her waist and hauled her against a solid wall of muscle.
"You, my beautiful fianceé, are hard to find."
The deep, sensual baritone of her duke wrapped about her like a leather kid glove. She checked that no one was near them where they could be seen.
"Did you miss me then?" she asked, wrapping her arms about his neck, playing with the hair at his nape.
His hand slid up her back, pulling her closer. "I've missed you since the moment you left me hard and wanting in the carriage last evening. I came to find you this morning, and you were already gone. I'm most put out."
She chuckled, kissing him quickly. "Have I made it better? I'm sorry I was not at home."
The duke glanced about the shelves, reading some of the tomes at her back. "This is the philosophy section. Are you becoming a scientist?" he teased.
"No, of course not, but this section of the store also houses books on the stars and planets, which I do enjoy reading about."
"I do believe you reached the heavens last evening, my sweet." He grinned, his eyes alight with mischief.
She slapped at his shoulder. "You tease me. Do not be so cruel, or I shall not allow you to have me again in such a way."
He growled, letting her go and pulling her along the shelves. A door lay ajar just a little along, and Josh pulled her into the small room that looked to be one of the employee's offices. He shut the door behind him, snipping the lock.
Expectation thrummed through her, but she moved behind the desk, out of his reach. "You cannot touch me here, Josh. There are customers about, and this is someone's desk. It would be rude of us to be inappropriate here."
He started around the desk, as slow as a fox after its prey. His darkened, hungry gaze made her shiver. "I like desks. I'm sure whoever owns this one would enjoy what I'm about to do to you on it if they had the chance."
Heat pooled between her legs, and she cursed her reactions to him, certainly here at least. She held out her hand, stilling him. "No, Josh. When you touch me, I cannot be silent. I'm mortified that your carriage driver now knows what you did to me last evening."
He chuckled, reaching for her. She wasn't quick enough to jump out of his scope, and he clasped the side of her dress, wrenching her against him.
"Your screams, your voice are what make men's lives worth living." He dipped his head, his lips trailing a line of fire down her neck, across her breasts, before he slipped the top of her gown down, exposing her to him.
She sighed, sliding her hand into his hair and clasping him to her as he teased her beaded flesh.
"You are too wicked for words," she gasped. He lifted his head and kissed her hard. His tongue tangled with hers. His mouth hungry and demanding. She met his every stroke, wanting him, no longer caring where they were or who could come upon them.
"I want to be wicked with you." His mouth took hers once again, and she lost all train of thought. Her wits spiraled, the emotions crashing through her strong and powerful.
"I want to be wicked with you too," she moaned when he pressed against her, where she ached most.
* * *
Josh was not sure what came over him when he'd arrived at his townhouse to find it empty of his betrothed and with the instructions from his mother that she was out shopping for books at Hatchards.
He'd left without a word, having thought of little else over the night but when he could see her next. He craved her. His body hungered for her presence, her touch, and sinful kisses.
It was utterly unfashionable he knew to be in lust with your wife, but that was exactly what he was. She may not be his just yet, but she would be soon, and then he doubted anyone could remove him from her side.
He kissed her deep and long, her hands exploring his body as much as his were hers. Her body drove him to distraction, her breasts the most perfect pair he'd ever beheld on a woman.
"Stop, Josh," she said, pushing at his chest with little effort.
Josh did as she asked. He met her gaze and did not miss the determined glint in her blue orbs.
"You gave me so much pleasure last evening. I want to return the favor. You need to tell me what you like."
He swallowed, his cock spiking to attention. "Your hand on me," he said, taking her hand and guiding it to clasp him, "will do just now."
She squeezed him, stroking him through his buckskin breeches. Fuck, he wanted to come. He'd never been so fucking hard in his life.
"You kissed me where I did not think anyone ever kissed another." She licked her lips, eliciting a groan from him. "Am I able to kiss you there also? Would you like that?"
Would he like that? It took all of his self-control not to rip his front falls open and let her have at his cock. "It is possible, and I would love nothing more, but not until we're married. Hatchards is not the place for that."
She pouted, pushing him away from her. He frowned, wondering what she was doing.
"I want to do it now. Let me," she cooed, kneeling before him.
His breath came as fast as his heartbeat. He should stop her, make her listen to reason. Instead, he watched, fascinated, as she flipped open every button on his breeches. His cock jumped out, hard and long, weeping with the need of her.
Her eyes darkened with hunger, and he shut his a moment, fighting to control a situation he so obviously had lost control of. "It's so soft but hard, Josh. I want to lick it."
Christ, he was going to hell allowing this here. He also did not move, waited with bated breath for her to touch him. And then she did. At first running her finger along his length, following one of the engorged veins that ran from base to tip. Utterly fascinated and without a clue to what she was doing to him.
She was driving him to the point of madness. How had he lived without her for so long and believed himself to be content?
She bent over him, running her tongue along his cock, and he clasped the bookshelf at his back, holding himself upright. She lathed him with her tongue, teased his cock from base to tip. He groaned, wrapping his hands about her nape as she took him into her mouth, sucking him with an ability of a seasoned lover.
Josh worked into her mouth, her tongue slipping against him, her teeth with restraint. Iris gained momentum, cupping his balls with her hands, and he feared he would spend in her mouth.
He gasped, his balls drawing up tight. He wanted to come in her mouth, watch her swallow every ounce of him. But they were in a bookstore. People were but steps from them.
"Iris, stop, my darling. No more," he begged her, forcing her to release him. She stood, doing as he asked, and kissed him. Hard.
Josh lost all cohesive thought. All that mattered was Iris. That she was his and nothing would ever change that fact. He kissed her vigorously, tasting himself on her lips. "I do not think I shall survive the time we have left before you are mine. I ache for you."
She kneeled before him again, kissing his cock one more time. It jumped, pleased at her petting before she slipped the buttons back upon his front falls. "You will have to visit me more often at your townhouse, Your Grace. So we may get better acquainted before our marriage."
Josh helped Iris right her gown and pushed a wayward pin back into her long locks. "I will steal back into the townhouse as much as I can. Meet me in the library if you're able. I shall meet you there whenever I can. If not, I may steal into your room.”
She grinned at his mischievous tone. “I’ll see you tonight then," she said, her voice a siren’s song to his blood. "After the Norwich ball."
He watched her walk from the small room, throwing him a wicked grin over her shoulder before she was gone. Josh slumped against the bookcase, his cock still hard and wanting attention.
He closed his eyes and breathed deep, forcing himself to calm his racing blood. Tonight was not too far away, at least. He would survive until then.
Perhaps.
Chapter 21
Sophie sipped her Madeira and studied Miss Cooper and the Dowager Duchess Penworth as they made a tour of the room, conversing with the others present at the Norwich ball. She ground her teeth, wondering what it was that Penworth saw in the little country mouse.
She was, in her esteemed opinion, no one of considerable beauty. Even with her rose-colored dress this evening, the heavier silk train that overlapped the gown at its back, Miss Cooper still was not the most handsome woman present.
Still, the duke sought her out, doted on her for some mysterious reason. She smiled to herself at what she had put into place earlier today. Her plan in getting what she wanted at any cost.
The duke would read the anonymous letter she had delivered to his Albany rooms, and he would be on guard this evening. It was the least that he deserved considering he had not offered to Sophie in all the time he had known her. He had given her hope where there was no hope to have. He would pay for treating her like a worthless piece of skirt he grew tired of and moved on from.
It was a pity that Miss Cooper would pay too for his deplorable actions toward her, but she would not apologize for seizing an opportunity that would make the duke regret his choice.
Poor man.
Sophie finished her drink, her attention snapping to the door when the duke was announced. His smile was fixed, but his eyes gave him away. Unease and speculation shone from his blue orbs, and she knew he had read her missive.
Good. The truth always came out to play eventually. It was time the duke owned up to his and face whatever came his way once spoken.
* * *
The Norwich ball was in full swing by the time the duchess and Iris arrived. They had dined first at home, deciding to forgo supper at the ball and return home then since the duchess had an early appointment in the morning with the modiste.
Iris looked about the room, trying to see if Josh had arrived when he was announced at the door. She drank in the sight of him as he paid his respects to the host and hostess before starting into the room.
He cut a line through the throng of guests, making his way over to them. Iris could not take her eyes from his person. His very presence made her heart jump, and she hoped that would always be the case.
What she felt around him, the utter thrill of having him at her side, bestowing sweet but equally wicked looks upon her, was an addiction for which she did not want a cure.
"Iris," he said, taking her hand. She expected him to kiss her gloved fingers. Instead, he pulled her against him and kissed her cheek.
"You look beautiful, my darling. How I wish we were elsewhere."
His roguish words sent a thrill to spike through her. She heard some audible gasps but did not bother to look to see who had seen his familiarity. What was their affection to anyone else? They were to be married. There was nothing wrong with showing affection.
"I wish that too, Your Grace," she whispered before he stepped back and bowed to his mother, greeting her.
The duke stood beside her, taking a glass of wine from a passing footman. Iris watched as he studied the guests, a small frown between his brows.
"Is something troubling you, Your Grace?" she asked him, knowing that there was.
He shook his head, dismissing her concerns, but the way that he stood, as if on guard, ready to strike down any attack… His continued silence was at odds with his normal self.
Whatever was the matter with him?
"Ah, you are here this evening. So lovely to see you all," Lady Isolde Worthingham, now Duchess Moore said, joining them.
The dowager duchess kissed her daughter's cheek before reintroducing Her Grace to Iris.
"What a crush the Norwich ball is this evening. Do let me know if you wish to leave early, Mama. I'm more than happy to escort you and Miss Cooper home."
"Where is Moore this evening?" the dowager asked, glancing about the room and looking for her son-in-law.
"He did not wish to attend, and so I have come with Elizabeth. She is over near the smoking room talking to Lady Morrison."
Iris smiled as Lady Morrison gestured wildly as she spoke with Lady Elizabeth Worthingham, now Countess Muir before she noted Lord Templedon headed
their way. Iris was reminded of seeing him on the street with Lady Sophie and couldn't help but wonder if his interest in her was borne out of Lady Sophie's interest in the duke.
Iris was no fool. Like so many young ladies present in London this Season, she knew Lady Sophie wanted to win the hand of the most-sought-after duke.
But would she continue to try to win him when Iris had won his hand already? If Lady Sophie attempted to injure her standing in society or ruin her engagement in some nefarious means, Iris doubted it would end in a marriage proposal from the duke. If anything, it would make him shy away from such an alliance with a woman so nasty at heart.
Lord Templedon bowed, greeting them all affably. Josh placed her hand upon his arm, marking her as his without a word spoken.
"How jolly this ball is this evening. I was hoping to make it even grander by stealing away your betrothed, Your Grace?" he asked the duke, his eyes calculating but amused.
Iris did not trust him in the least, not after seeing him with Lady Sophie, but still, what could the man say or do that would persuade her to break off her engagement to the duke? Their alliance may not be born out of love, he had kissed her, and they had been caught. Nothing more than that. But that did not mean their union could not grow into love and adoration. Something she was hoping was already happening between them.
As for Templedon's offer to dance, there was no harm in it. He could not injure her in any way. Iris let go of the duke's arm and reached for Templedon. "Of course, my lord. I shall like to dance."
She cast a lingering glance at His Grace as she walked out onto the floor, not missing the deadly glare he had marked against his lordship.
Why was it that Josh hated the man so very much? He may be a rogue, calculating and teasing toward the opposite sex, but he was as dangerous as a mouse to Iris.