A Duke Like No Other

by Valerie Bowman

  He slid into her to the hilt and she sobbed, while he released a shuddering sigh. They stilled for a moment in their frantic squirming to get closer, each absorbing the unbelievable fact that their bodies still fit as perfectly as they used to. Then she tilted back her head and he rained kisses down the slim column of her throat. God, the way he filled her, the grasp of his hands on her hips, holding her tight. It had been too long. She’d missed it. She’d missed him. She wrapped her arms around the solidness of his shoulders, breathing in his heady scent as he slammed into her again and again, making her cry out in ecstasy.

  * * *

  Mark clapped one hand to Nicole’s backside to keep her pressed tight. The other hand he braced on the wall behind her head—partly so her skull wouldn’t hit the wall, and partly to hold himself upright, to keep his knees from giving way. Damn. He hadn’t meant for their first time in years to happen like this. He’d planned to woo her, undress her slowly, take her to bed leisurely and make her call out his name, make her cry out for him. But here they were—she was making maddeningly seductive noises in the back of her throat, and he was pounding into her like a rutting stag. And he couldn’t stop. The moment he touched her skin, smelled the lavender essence of her hair, felt the softness of her bottom lip against his tongue, he couldn’t stop himself. He hadn’t touched a woman this way in ten years, and the fact that he was touching the one who’d haunted his dreams since then made it all the more torturous. He couldn’t get enough. If she wanted him to go more slowly, she didn’t indicate it. Instead, her arms had a near stranglehold on his neck and she was all but eating him alive, her teeth biting at his shoulder, sweet stings of pain and pleasure that sent lust barreling through him. He clenched his jaw. God, he wanted to make this last, wanted to make her come first, but he couldn’t. He was too far gone, too mindless with passion. “Sweetheart, it’s been too long. I can’t stop,” he whispered into her ear.

  * * *

  Nicole had never heard anything more erotic than Mark declaring surrender. God help her, she didn’t want him to stop. It had been too long for her too, far too long. With every hammering thrust he made, she met him with equal force, her legs leaving the floor to encircle his lean hips, his frantic movements sliding her back against the wall until she thought her flesh might burst into flame from the agony of friction and need. Of course it would be like this between them—just as it always had. Fire and ice, pain and pleasure.

  She didn’t want to hope that when he said it had been too long, that meant he hadn’t been with anyone else in all these years. No doubt he only meant it had been too long without her … but she wasn’t about to dwell on that while he was pounding into her.

  “It’s all right,” she panted into his ear. “Come.”

  His hands tightened on her hips. His mouth moved back to hers, ravaging, demanding. He pumped into her once, twice, three times more and stilled. His big body tensed and shook, then trembled in the circle of her embrace as the warmth of his seed spilled within her. His mouth gentled on her, his kiss replaced by the hard rush of his breathing. His hands slipped away from her legs and he gulped in air, pressing his forehead against hers, hard.

  “Damn,” he murmured against her swollen mouth. “I did not mean for it to happen like that.”

  “I thoroughly enjoyed it,” Nicole replied, her arms and legs still wrapped around him.

  He picked her up and carried her to the bed, where he gently disengaged from her embrace and laid her there, her shift still wadded above her hips. He took a moment to drink in the disheveled, thoroughly ravaged sight of her. “God, I want to rip that thing off you,” he breathed.

  “Do it,” she taunted. “But first, take off your breeches.”

  Mark glanced down. He’d been so ravenous for her, he was still wearing his breeches. They’d merely been pushed down below his hips. Such bad form.

  He sat on the bed and pulled off his breeches. By the time he turned back around, Nicole had pulled her shift over her head and was sitting up on her knees, completely nude. His eyes scoured her body, her breasts, her slightly rounded belly, her thighs. She was as beautiful as ever. More so.

  He crawled toward her and plunged his hands into the thick, rich depths of her silky hair. “God, you’re gorgeous.” He captured her mouth again in a long, drugging kiss.

  “I’m glad you still think so,” she murmured against his lips.

  “Are you mad?” His mouth found a sensitive spot on the side of her neck and he gave it a gentle bite. “Of course I think so.”

  “You’re looking quite fine yourself.” She tried to laugh, but the sound was abruptly cut short as he pulled her beneath him and covered her with his hard, nude body.

  “I want you again,” he breathed into her ear, already pushing her knees apart with one strong leg.

  “Yes,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

  “I’m going to make you come so hard you call my name.” His lips glanced over her ear and breathed heat into its shell, making Nicole shiver in ecstasy.

  “Is that a challenge?” she asked, trying to keep her wits about her and failing pleasurably as Mark’s hand slid down between her thighs to play with her most intimate spot.

  “No,” he growled into her ear, “it’s a promise.”

  He knew her body, knew exactly where to touch. His hand found the nub of her pleasure swiftly, as if ten years hadn’t passed. His thumb flicked across it again and again while Nicole squirmed and ran her fingers through his silky dark hair. She’d wanted to touch him this way ever since she’d seen him sitting in her drawing room in France, taunting her. And oh did the man know how to taunt. His thumb left her and she cried out in protest.

  “Shhh,” he murmured against her lips. One long finger slipped inside her then, in and out, working her tight passage. Her hips twisted, wanting more. Finally, his thumb came back to rub the spot of pleasure between her legs and she arched against his maddening hand.

  “That’s it,” he said, watching her face. “I want to see you come. I’ve waited so long.”

  She couldn’t examine what those words meant, not when she was half mindless with pent-up longing. Her legs slid restlessly against the sheets, her hips twisting and arching, completely at the mercy of his skilled hand. She was close. Oh, so close.

  “Say my name,” he whispered wickedly in her ear.

  “No,” she said, just to be equally wicked.

  His hand stopped and she cried out, “No!”

  “Say it,” he taunted, resuming his skilled maneuvers.

  “Mark,” she whispered.

  “What do you want?” His dark head bent to her breast and he sucked her nipple into his mouth with unmerciful slowness.

  “You,” she replied, the breathless word drifting featherlike in the air. Her eyes were closed. Her legs tensed. Her entire body focused on the pleasure that was so near.

  “What else do you want?” he murmured in her ear again.

  “To come,” she breathed. He’d taught her these things. All of them. He’d taught her to ask him for what she wanted. He’d taught her how good her body could feel when it was touched the right way, and he’d taught her the unrelenting pleasure he could give her.

  Shifting over her, he pushed her legs apart with his knees and withdrew his finger from her, only to replace it with his cock. The hard slide of him inside her made her cry out again. “Mark!”

  His thumb returned to the nub between her legs and he flicked and toyed with the spot while he slowly moved in and out of her. “I want you to come.” He rubbed her in tiny circles. “Now.”

  As if his words had power over her body, she shattered around him while he pumped into her again and again. She sobbed his name against his ear, tumbling in ecstasy so intense, she was only vaguely aware when his body quickened and shuddered to its climax in her wake.

  Oh, God, yes. She drifted as his dark head sagged against her breast, and she slid idle fingers through his damp, soft hair. She had missed this.

&n
bsp; And she was in so much trouble.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The next morning, Mark rolled over and encountered the most enticing backside he’d ever seen. Memories from the night before came roaring back and he grinned to himself. He’d spent the night with Nicole again. Something he never thought would happen. Not in a hundred years. Her shoulders were bare and smooth and her backside … perfect. A vision of her in those breeches she’d worn in France flashed through his mind, making him hard again.

  Their lovemaking had been better than he remembered it. There was something different about her. Not just her body, which was that of a more mature woman, but her manner. She wasn’t the shy young woman she had been. Not that she’d been timid before, but it was as if her experience in the world made her more uninhibited in bed. He hated to think it was because of experience she’d had with other men.

  It had been poorly done of him last night. He’d been eager as an untried lad. He cringed at the thought of how quickly he’d gone about it the first time. His pride smarted. He needed to make amends. Nicole had been a heavy sleeper. Was she still? Her deep breathing indicated she was asleep. He would wake her up … in the best way possible.

  He began by carefully rolling her over. Her glorious naked body lay splayed beneath him. He kissed her neck, her ear. He worked his way down to her breasts, her belly, and then her thighs, to the thatch of bright red hair that veiled the tender, enticing center of her. He parted her legs gingerly with his hands and moved slowly down, down, down. He covered the nub of her pleasure with his mouth and his tongue worked on her until she stirred and her hips moved beneath his hands. She moaned. He smiled to himself but kept up the gentle assault.

  * * *

  Nicole had been having the most erotic dream of her life. She was used to them, these sorts of dreams. Normally they took place in a lush tropical forest with Mark. There was a waterfall and a huge stone basin with a large rock jutting out, heated by the sun. He laid her down on it and loomed over her, sucking her nipples and teasing her by refusing to enter her until she begged. When he finally gave her what they both wanted, she cried out and clutched him to her, while he slammed into her again and again and again. It was her favorite dream.

  This time, though, something was different. She was there, lying on the hot rock, the gentle breeze caressing her heated limbs. But instead of Mark slamming into her … his mouth was on her—

  She startled awake to see Mark’s dark head moving between her thighs.

  Oh, God, this was better than the dream. What Mark was doing with his tongue should probably be illegal.

  He laved her again and again and a deep guttural moan emerged unbidden from her throat. She was torn between the voice of propriety telling her to protest and the wildness rising within her, which sent her fingers creeping into his hair to hold him to her. “Mark,” she whispered.

  His rough palms cradled her outer thighs as he held them apart, keeping her open and vulnerable to him. “Mark,” she called again. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted to feel his body slide over hers, wanted to feel him buried deep inside of her, but she also didn’t want him to stop licking her like that.

  His mouth and tongue kept up their sinful assault until she shattered against his mouth and cried out, her orgasm bringing unexpected tears to her eyes. She felt his wicked mouth curve into a grin against her thigh. He slid up her body until the hot hardness of him rested against her most sensitive flesh. She quivered again when he smiled down at her and circled his hips against hers, without quite penetrating her, in a dance that felt oh, so promising. Her arms wrapped around him. The scars on his back reminded her of his time in the French prison camp. No doubt that’s where he’d got them. Tears stung her eyes again. In that moment, the enormity of how much he owned her, body and soul, sent the tears streaking down her cheeks.

  His grin instantly faded and he went still. Just like that he shifted from sensual tease to earnest lover. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, kissed her forehead, and searched her face. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Don’t you want me?”

  She swallowed a few times before she could choke out the confession. “I want you so much it frightens me.”

  His concerned features softened. He clasped her hands with his and slid oh-so-slowly inside of her. “I want you too.” He pulled out and slid back inside. His gaze never left her face. “So much.”

  The pressure slowly built inside of her, tangled in the jumble of emotions in her heart. By the time he pumped into her one last time, her orgasm washed over her in a wave of sublime pleasure, wringing another unstoppable moan from her throat.

  The man was a master. He’d given her four orgasms in one night, but it felt far too much like lovemaking and it wasn’t supposed to be that. How had it all gone so wrong and yet so wonderfully right? How in the world was she going to survive this? She’d keep him chained to the bed if she could. Her sex slave for the next three months. The idea held a certain appeal. She smiled to herself and cuddled against him, limp and languid and ready to go back to sleep after all that delicious pleasure.

  “Why were you crying?” he asked gently after he rolled to his side and captured her hand in his.

  The tender rasp of his thumb over her knuckles brought her eyelids open. He was watching her face with dark, unreadable eyes, waiting for her answer. An answer he apparently cared about. Oh, God. What was happening between them?

  She carefully disengaged her hand and noted his frown when she did so. She turned on her side to look at him and pulled up the sheet to cover her breasts. “It was nothing. Truly.”

  He studied her face for a moment and reached to push a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to hurt you, Nicole.”

  She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling, flinging her arm over her head to rest on the pillow. A hollow ache pulsed in her chest. “I was the one who demanded we do this.”

  “Yes, but I was the one who insisted it not just be an act. I—”

  “It’s fine, no need to explain.” Her voice was more terse than she’d meant it to be. They could not start talking about their feelings. If that happened, there was no way she would survive with her heart intact.

  He brought her knuckles up to his lips and kissed them tenderly. “I don’t know how to do it any other way.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded, still staring at the ceiling. “I understand.”

  He lifted up on his elbow and grinned down at her. Then he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “And it was fun, wasn’t it?”

  She nodded again, a smile creeping onto her lips. “It was indeed.”

  He rolled toward the edge of the mattress. “I need to get the day started but I, for one, am greatly looking forward to doing this again.”

  She watched him leap from the bed and couldn’t help but stare at his magnificent backside as he disappeared into the next room to dress.

  “Me too,” she whispered to herself. “And that’s the problem.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “They’ve all arrived,” Lady Harriet told Mark later that morning in the breakfast room. “I’ve shown them to their rooms, but per your instructions, asked that they all meet in the blue drawing room at half past eleven.”

  “Very good,” Mark replied, leaning back in his chair. Regina had already eaten and Nicole had ordered a tray brought up to their room. His uncle was too ill to come down to breakfast, so Mark and his aunt were there alone.

  Lady Harriet had a smug little smile on her face too, which made Mark wonder if she had some way of knowing what he and Nicole had done last night. The old woman kept glancing at him and smiling. She was humming sporadically too. Mark couldn’t blame her. He rather felt like humming himself this morning.

  During breakfast, he had tried to concentrate on preparing for the interviews he would conduct today, but all he could think about was last night with Nicole. It wasn’t his imagination. It had been better than he remembered. Wild, pass
ionate, unencumbered. Nicole was fiery in bed and she drove him mad with the sounds she made in the back of her throat. She’d given herself to him entirely, holding nothing back, and he was mad for her. Damn it. How long did it take for a woman to know whether she was with child? A month at least, possibly less? He hoped to hell she wasn’t with child yet. He’d like to continue the method of producing an heir as long as possible.

  He finished his eggs and coffee, stood from the table, and excused himself from Lady Harriet’s presence. “I’ll be in the drawing room at half past eleven. See you there.”

  * * *

  The drawing room was full of somber faces. Lord Anthony looked particularly solemn, spine erect, on a stiff-backed chair in the corner, his face drawn and pale. Lady Arabelle, blond and fragile, held a handkerchief in her fist and dabbed at her wide wet blue eyes repeatedly. Lady Arabelle’s mother, looking downcast, heaved sigh after sigh as she sat perched on the settee next to her daughter, patting her hand and murmuring to her. Lord Hillenbrand was stoic. Mr. Cartwright looked perturbed. Miss Lester sat next to Mr. Cartwright, her mother on the other side of her. They looked somber too. Everyone was dressed in black with nary a smile among them.

  Oakleaf stood in the front of the room next to Mark, arms clasped behind his back. Lord Tottenham had arrived, but had not been asked to join the group in the drawing room. Oakleaf wanted only the people who’d been at the dinner that night to be there.

  The duke arrived shortly after, wheeled in by two footmen. All the guests stood and bowed to the old man. He feebly lifted his hand in the air. “Sit, sit, please.”

  “I’m glad you’ve come,” the duke began as they all took their seats again. “It’s important for me to honor John here at the family estate. The memorial service will be tomorrow afternoon at the family cemetery over the hill. The naming of the heir shall be the day after. In the meantime, I hope you will all relax and enjoy yourselves as much as you are able, given the circumstances. If you need anything at all, please let one of the servants know.”