The Duke of Desire
Page 23
She reached inside for his cock and slipped the shaft free. He pushed the garment down his hips as she licked the smooth, moisture-beaded tip. He struggled to disentangle himself from his pantaloons as she stroked his length with her hand, her fingers tracing the engorged veins. She sucked and licked the end, teasing him.
When he was nude, he cupped the back of her head and tried to push himself deeper into her mouth. She opened for him, guiding him inside while she fondled his sac. He pulled back, but she didn’t release him. She used her other hand to clasp his hip and guide his movements as she sucked his length. He stroked in and out, his breathing coming harder and faster.
Ivy’s legs quivered, and her core throbbed with need. He abruptly left her mouth and bent to pick her up. He tossed her on the bed, and she quickly pulled her shift from her body. He came up onto the mattress with a primitive growl, his eyes slitted to dark beads of lust. But instead of coming for her, he lay down on his back and reached for her.
She sidled closer, uncertainty dimming the brilliance of her arousal.
“Put your leg over me.”
She did as he said, and straddled his hips. His thumb found just where she needed to be touched, and sparks shot through her. With his other hand, he stroked her breast. Softly at first, and then more firmly as his hands cupped her, and his fingers tweaked her nipple.
“Lean down,” he rasped.
Again, she followed his command, falling over him. His mouth captured her breast, and his fingers teased her sex. When his finger entered her, she cried out. He somehow managed to master both parts of her body as he drove her to the edge of desire. Her hips bucked against his hand as he plunged inside her again and again. His thumb pressed on her nub and she fell, her body shaking with the force of it.
But he didn’t wait for her to subside. He moved her slightly and then his cock was against her entrance. He guided himself inside, slowly, until he was partway in. Then he thrust deep, his hands clasping her hips as he brought her down over him.
Ivy cried out as her orgasm intensified. He filled her so completely. Then he began to move, his hips rocking, his cock driving deep and nearly withdrawing before impaling her once more.
She tried to move with him, but couldn’t quite control her body as the spasms of her last orgasm rioted through her. He guided her, his grip firm and his thrusts measured.
“Ride,” he said. “Like a horse.”
“I’ve barely ridden,” she managed to say. She gasped as pleasure washed over her. Every bit of her flesh was hot and sensitive. She was beyond herself completely.
He pulled her against him and swiftly turned, taking her beneath him. He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her long and hard, his tongue sweeping hers. His thrusts had slowed, his hips grinding against hers. She rose to meet him, her body feeling both pleasured and yet lethargic, her limbs heavy.
He grasped her thighs and wrapped her legs around his hips. This tilted her pelvis up and opened her so that he pressed against her sex. Then he began to move more quickly again, and her body reawakened with desperate need. She cried out as he hit that spot over and over again, pushing her once more to mindlessness. His thrusts became faster, almost feverish in their intent. He cried her name as he buried himself deep within her. His lips claimed hers, and he swallowed her moan as she came apart in his arms.
Later, they lay together, their limbs entwined. He held her against his chest; his lips grazed her temple, her cheek, her forehead.
Ivy was loath to break the spell. “I should probably return to Lady Dunn’s.”
“Is she expecting you?” He kissed her hairline.
“I should think so.”
“I can take you back, but only for tonight. Tomorrow, we’re leaving for London so that I may get a special license. I want to make you my duchess as soon as possible.”
Ivy lifted her head from his chest. “Can we invite Lucy and Dartford to come along?”
“Anything you want, my love, is my heart’s desire. You are my heart’s desire.”
She winced. “I’m afraid I must apologize. For your nickname.”
His eyes widened, and he laughed. “You started that?”
“I can’t take all the credit. Indeed, I advocated for Duke of Debauchery or perhaps it was Depravity. I can’t rightly recall, and, really, either would’ve done. Lucy and Aquilla thought Desire sounded more enticing.” She ran her palm over his nipple and up to his collarbone. “Not that you needed any help with that.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he kissed her swiftly on the mouth. “No. But that life is over. I am still the Duke of Desire—I hope—but only for you.” He kissed her again, his lips soft against hers. “Only for you.”
Epilogue
One month later, Pickering, Yorkshire
“You’re certain you wish to do this?” West asked as the coach pulled to a stop in front of the stone house. He watched his bride stare out the window at the façade, her features tense. Her hands were clasped in her lap, the knuckles white.
He slipped his hand over hers. “We don’t have to get out.”
She shook her head as if waking. “Yes. I do.”
The footman opened the door and put down the step. West climbed out, then helped Ivy to the ground.
She took a deep breath and started toward the house, but the door flew open before she reached the stoop. A young woman came forth, her jaw dropping. Her hair, a burnished red-gold, revealed her as Ivy’s relative. Her sister Fanny, West would wager.
She rushed forward, coming to an abrupt stop right in front of Ivy. “Mary, is that you?”
Ivy regarded her sister, and West could see that she was still quite rigid. “Yes. Fanny, you’ve grown into a beautiful young lady.”
Fanny threw her arms around Ivy, and it was then that West saw her body relax. She wrapped Fanny in a tight embrace. West’s throat tried to close. He coughed and adjusted the brim of his hat lower over his brow.
When they broke apart, Fanny’s gaze traveled to the coach and then to West.
Ivy pivoted toward him. “Fanny, this is my husband, the Duke of Clare.”
Fanny’s eyes grew wide, and West feared her jaw might hit the ground this time. She snapped her gaze back to Ivy. “You’re a duchess?”
Ivy nodded, a smile teasing her lips. West loved watching this moment. She’d left here wounded and vanquished. For her to return in triumph made his heart soar.
“What’s this?” A woman came from the house, wiping her hands on her apron.
Fanny swung around, her eyes bright. “Oh, Mother! It’s Mary. She’s married a duke!”
Ivy’s mother surveyed Ivy from head to toe. West watched as Ivy’s face became stoic. “Hello, Mother.” He heard the ice in her tone and didn’t blame her for it one bit.
Mrs. Snowden looked at West then. “You’re really a duke?”
He came forward and executed a bow before her. “Clare.”
“I won’t ask how you managed that,” she said to Ivy. “I’m pleased to see you found your way.”
“This sounds like a wonderful story,” Fanny said. “I’d love to hear how you went from working as a governess to becoming a duchess.” She slid her mother an interesting glance. It was a bit saucy and begged explanation. But West doubted he’d get one. She turned to him. “Do you have children, Your Grace? Is that how you met?”
He fought a smile. Fanny was a lively thing. “No. We met at a house party.” Ivy had told him that she’d made up a story about becoming a governess to explain to Fanny why she was leaving.
“Well, come in for tea as long as you’re here,” Mrs. Snowden said, sounding a bit resigned.
“If it’s no trouble,” Ivy said.
Mrs. Snowden didn’t respond, just turned and went into the house. Fanny linked her arm through Ivy’s. “Come and tell me all about your estate and what it’s like to be a duchess. I’m probably going to end up married to Mr. Duckworth next spring, so I must live through you.”
They’d discussed the possibility of bringing Fanny to London for the Season—provided her parents agreed. Ivy wasn’t certain they’d let her go, even though Ivy was a duchess now.
Fanny squealed with delight. “A Season?” She dragged Ivy inside. “Mother! I’m going to have a Season!”
They spent the next hour drinking tea and suffering first her mother’s obvious discomfort and then her father’s. Mrs. Snowden had sent someone to fetch him from the cowshed.
He’d sat across from West glowering at him skeptically, as if he couldn’t quite believe a duke was sitting in his house. By the time they left, Ivy’s sister was ready to come with them straightaway. Ivy was ready too. However, the Snowdens were reluctant. West had then launched a lengthy argument as to why it would benefit Fanny—and them—to allow her to have a Season. They’d ultimately relented and agreed that she could come to London in the spring.
West waited by the coach as Ivy hugged her sister good-bye.
“I’ll see you soon,” she said, kissing her cheek. “And I’ll write.”
Fanny wiped away a tear. “I’m so glad you came.”
They hugged again, and then Ivy walked toward the coach. West noted the moisture brightening her eyes as he helped her inside. He climbed in after her, and they were soon on their way.
He pulled her against him and kissed her temple. “Your sister is lovely.”
Ivy wiped her eyes. “I didn’t realize how much I’d missed her. I never thought I’d see her again.”
“I’m glad she’s coming to London.”
Ivy turned in his arms and looked up at him with love. “Thank you. You really are the best of men.”
He barked out a laugh. “Only because of you.” He touched her chin. “How do you feel?”
“Surprisingly peaceful. I don’t hate them. And I don’t need to see them again. Or write.”
He’d noticed that her mother hadn’t asked her to, nor had she offered. They rode in silence for a little while. She leaned against him, and he stroked her back.
“It was strange,” he said. “Hearing them call you Mary. I’ve been meaning to ask how you chose your new name. I know how you settled on Breckenridge, but why Ivy?”
“The workhouse had a wall with ivy growing up the side. I thought it was pretty, but one of the older inmates told me it was a nuisance, that no matter how they tried to stop it from growing, it always found a way to survive, and indeed, thrive.” She sat up and looked into his eyes. “I decided I wanted to be like that ivy—no matter what anyone did, I would persist. I would survive.”
Admiration swelled in his chest. “I didn’t think it was possible to love you more.” He kissed her softly, his lips gently cradling hers.
Her hands came up around his neck, and she threw a leg over his lap, straddling him.
“Ivy, what are you doing?”
“Seducing you.” She kissed along his jaw and nibbled his earlobe.
Shafts of desire pierced him, bringing his cock to instant and full arousal. “We should wait until we reach the inn.”
She lifted her skirts and reached between them for the buttons of his fall. Her mouth trailed along his neck. “Why?”
“The child?” He’d been thrilled when her courses hadn’t come. He could scarcely believe how deeply his life had changed in the past few months, and he couldn’t have been happier.
“Will be fine,” she said. She lifted her head and looked at him with a teasing glint to her eye before quoting, “‘A reserved lover, it is said, always makes a suspicious husband.’ How has my Duke of Desire become such a prig?”
He laughed softly and brought his hand between them, finding her sweet, wet heat. “Goldsmith, of course.” He speared his finger into her, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips.
“I can’t let you impugn my character like that. I’m the Duke of Debauchery to you.” He pressed his lips against hers and whispered, “And don’t ever forget it.”
The end
Thank you for reading! Check out the next book in The Untouchables series: The Duke of Defiance.
Thank You
Thank you so much for reading The Duke of Desire. I hope you enjoyed West and Ivy’s story! I had so much fun writing them.
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The Duke of Desire is the fourth book in The Untouchables series. The next book in the series is The Duke of Defiance. Watch for more information! In the meantime, catch up with my other historical series: Secrets and Scandals and League of Rogues. If you like contemporary romance, I hope you’ll check out my Ribbon Ridge series available from Avon Impulse and my latest series, which continues the lives and loves of Ribbon Ridge’s denizens – Love on the Vine.
I appreciate my readers so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Books by Darcy Burke
Historical Romance
The Untouchables
The Forbidden Duke
The Duke of Daring
The Duke of Deception
The Duke of Desire
The Duke of Defiance
The Duke of Danger
Secrets and Scandals
Her Wicked Ways
His Wicked Heart
To Seduce a Scoundrel
To Love a Thief (a novella)
Never Love a Scoundrel
Scoundrel Ever After
League of Rogues
Lady of Desire
Romancing the Earl
Contemporary Romance
Ribbon Ridge
Where the Heart Is (a prequel novella)
Only in My Dreams
Yours to Hold
When Love Happens
The Idea of You
When We Kiss
You’re Still the One
Ribbon Ridge: Love on the Vine
So Good
So Right
So in Love
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Period Images for the amazing shot on the cover—it’s more gorgeous than I ever could have imagined! And thank you Carrie Divine for building a cover around the shot and for your ever-fabulous font work. More thanks to my editing team of Lind and Toni, as well as my beta reader, Elizabeth Wright. Can’t be done thanking people without including my incredible assistant, Danielle Gorman, and Corinna Varilek for keeping things hopping.
A massive thank you to Elisabeth Naughton and Rachel Grant for their patient plotting help. Sometimes it takes several tries to get it just right (and I think it got there!)
I also want to shout out to the lovely ladies of the Smoky Mountains Retreat: Tiffany, Julie, Dee, Jill, Tracy, Mary, Nancy, Skye, Elisabeth, and Marina. What an inspirational and just plain fun time. XOXOX
As always, I have to send the most thanks and the biggest hugs to my supportive family. If my daughter hasn’t told you about my books it’s only because you haven’t met her in person. She would make a hell of a publicist.
Copyright
The Duke of Desire
Copyright © 2017 Darcy Burke
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1944576061
ISBN-13: 9781944576066
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Book design: © Darcy Burke.
Book Cover Design: © Carrie Divine/Seductive Designs.
Photo copyrigh
t: Couple. © Period Images.
Photo copyright: © olly18/Depositphotos
Editing: Linda Ingmanson.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
About the Author
Darcy Burke is the USA Today Bestselling Author of hot, action-packed historical and sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Darcy wrote her first book at age 11, a happily ever after about a swan addicted to magic and the female swan who loved him, with exceedingly poor illustrations.
A native Oregonian, Darcy lives on the edge of wine country with her guitar-strumming husband, their two hilarious kids who seem to have inherited the writing gene, and two snuggly cats who (barely) tolerate each other. In her “spare” time Darcy is a serial volunteer enrolled in a 12-step program where one learns to say “no,” but she keeps having to start over. Her happy places are Disneyland and Labor Day weekend at the Gorge. Visit Darcy online at http://www.darcyburke.com and sign up for her newsletter, follow her on Twitter at http://twitter.com/darcyburke, or like her Facebook page, http://www.facebook.com/darcyburkefans.