All I Want for Christmas Is a Duke

by Vivienne Lorret

  “Isabelle,” Sophie said as she helped her cousin off the floor.

  “I had to make sure you were in good hands.”

  Sophie released Isabelle and crossed her arms over her chest. “I told you to stay in your room.”

  “Would you have done the same?” her cousin challenged.

  “You’re right, I would have followed you down here had our positions been reversed.”

  Isabelle eyed the duke. “So we will become cousins.”

  Adrian was smiling. “Indeed, we will.”

  Isabelle squealed louder and slapped a hand over her mouth as she jumped on the spot. Her laughter was infectious, and Sophie embraced her cousin, caught up in the excitement.

  Adrian cleared his throat, and brushed his hand over Sophie’s arm. “We need to make haste, Sophie.”

  She released Isabelle and turned back to the duke. “I can pack quicker now that I don’t have to write a note for Isabelle. I won’t be more than ten minutes,” she promised, giving him a very brief kiss on the lips.

  Adrian waited for her in the kitchen while she went upstairs and packed a satchel with whatever she could carry.

  Isabelle went with her. As soon as they got to Sophie’s room, Isabelle began pulling items from the wardrobe and tossing them on the bed. In the end, Sophie packed her best morning dress for the actual wedding ceremony. She changed quickly out of her night rail into a riding habit, forgoing her stays, though she did stuff them into her bag.

  Once Sophie’s belongings were packed, Isabelle pulled her into a hug.

  “What will you tell your mother in the morning?” Sophie asked.

  “That you think you’ve come down with something and are sleeping in late.”

  Sophie hugged her cousin one last time. “Thank you.”

  “You would do the same for me, Sophie. Now off with you, your duke is waiting for you.”

  Sophie wanted this. She really wanted this. There was no way to change her mind now. This was the right thing for her and Adrian.

  More importantly, this was something her stepmother could not control. It was like an early Christmas present to herself. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed so easily to the idea. So she stopped overthinking the situation the moment she stepped back into the kitchen and ran into Adrian’s open arms. He hugged her close, and she stood in his arms for a few minutes, enjoying the embrace, and the masculine scent that was a little sandalwood, a little horse, and all Adrian.

  “I was worried you wouldn’t come back.”

  “Had I not, I have no doubt you would have come looking for me.”

  Adrian chuckled low and deep. “I don’t doubt it either.” He put her at arm’s length. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded, afraid her voice was lost. He grabbed her hand and led her outside to his waiting horse.

  Chapter Six

  THEY GAINED ENTRY to Adrian’s London town house through the back entrance. He didn’t want to take any chances on being discovered, especially considering half the ton had been at his ball only last night. It was the early hours of the morning, and the housekeeper was up when they came through the door, carrying Sophie’s valise.

  “Good morning to you, Your Grace,” she said, taking in the sight of their disheveled state without batting an eyelash.

  “Tell no one I am home, Mrs. May.” Adrian took Sophie’s hand, pulling her farther into the house.

  “As you wish, Your Grace.” The housekeeper asked no questions as she went on her way, as though seeing Adrian sneaking a woman through the servants’ entrance was a regular occurrence. Sophie remained silent until he closed his bedchamber door behind them and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I would provide separate accommodations if I were less worried about discovery. Now that I have gotten you here, I’m reluctant to let you out of my sight.”

  She smiled up at him, her expression trusting and calm. If she knew where his thoughts had wandered, he doubted she would still be smiling. But he was fit only for sleep.

  She looked around his room, which was really more like an apartment with a sleeping area, writing wing, partial library and sitting area, two change rooms, and a bathing chamber where the hipbath and other washing accessories were kept. This was his only residence in London, a house that had been in his family for eight generations of Helmsworths.

  “It’s as big as my cottage,” she said, turning around to take in the whole of the room.

  “You can take the bed. We’ll need a few hours of rest before I see the archbishop about that license.”

  Her eyes widened at the suggestion. “I couldn’t. I don’t mind napping on the chaise longue in the corner.”

  Adrian approached her, his hand caressing her face, lingering on the softness of her skin. “My fiancée will do no such thing.”

  “I will only be your fiancée for a few short hours. We will be husband and wife before the day is through.” Sophie looked between the bed and him. “There is room enough for us both.”

  Her offer, while it seemed innocent, sent all the blood in his body rushing toward his cock. An inconvenient time for such a reaction. Instead of answering, or rebuking her offer, which most gentlemen would do, he angled his head over hers and rubbed his lips back and forth over hers. She allowed him entry without hesitation, and their kiss took on a life of its own. Before long, they were both crashing down onto the mattress, their limbs tangling and their hands wandering in not so innocent exploration.

  He had promised her marriage, not seduction without the safety of matrimony. It took a force of will he didn’t think he had to release her. He hovered over her on the bed, his arms braced around her shoulders.

  “I did not mean for that to happen. And as you have probably surmised, I do not want to take advantage of the situation we find ourselves in, sharing a bed with you when my guard is down and my mind is not as sharp as it could be because of a lack of sleep.”

  “We both agreed to this.” Sophie pressed her palm against his face, her thumb brushing across his lips. “I want you to share this bed with me.”

  He sucked her thumb into his mouth, rolling it around on his tongue and licking off the salt on her skin. “Do you really know what you are asking?”

  “You said earlier that I read too many books. You are right, and I’ve found a number of naughty books that make me blush. I know what I’m asking,” she said, reaching for the buttons on her jacket, slipping them carefully through the holes as he watched, fascinated, to see what she’d reveal.

  The dress she wore now was far more modest than the one she’d worn to the ball the previous night, and far less revealing. Still, his attraction to her had not waned even when she had donned modest clothes; it had only grown the closer their bodies had rubbed as they’d shared his horse to London.

  While he liked to consider himself a patient man, patience was the last virtue he seemed able to hold on to when her lips and body were pliant beneath him. He wanted to feast on her, strip her bare and taste every inch of her.

  She raked her nails along his neck with just enough pressure to have him hissing in a breath. He thrust into her skirts, wishing they were skin to skin.

  “I think I want to know more about these books you’ve been reading,” he murmured against her lips.

  “I can read them to you, but first . . .” She released the buttons on his waistcoat. She was as eager for him to be rid of his clothes as hers, but if she wanted this, it would be done on his terms. Naughty books aside, she was still a virgin, and he would make this a night to remember.

  “We will be married before the day is through. We can wait to share a bed until later tonight,” he said.

  “I want this, Adrian.”

  “You can stop this at any time should you change your mind.” He stood and threw off his waistcoat.

  “I don’t want to wait, Adrian. If
we do this, if we consummate our union, even before marriage, no one can rebuke our claim to each other. No one can stop our marriage. I want to be with you.” She reached for his shirt, pulling the material from his trousers. “Lie with me tonight. Make me yours as only a husband can claim his wife.”

  He stripped out of his shirt, and watched Sophie’s expression change from one of awe to one of wicked promise. Her nails scored a path down his navel to the edge of his trousers, twirling in the path of hair that led to the root of his manhood.

  “Our bodies are so different,” she whispered, her fingers skimming the edge of his trousers now. “Will you remove them for me?”

  The innocence of her question had his prick as hard as a pillar of stone. He looked down her, at the way she licked her lips, at the heaving of her bosom, at the way she panted out her breaths in excitement. He took her hand and made her stand before him.

  “You first,” he said, pushing the open jacket off her shoulders. The bodice beneath matched the hunter green of her skirt. The pieces joined at the waist in a series of ties, half of which were only tucked into the skirts. That made his job easier.

  “Turn around,” he said so he could unhook the eyelets that kept the top portion of her dress on. She didn’t hesitate and tried to help him, but he pushed her hands away, revealing the delicate line of her spine one hook at a time. While there was a chemise beneath, she wore no corset. “You dressed in haste.”

  When the material gaped forward, Sophie crossed her hands over her breasts, holding the material as she faced him. “I wanted back in your arms and away from Kent before I could change my mind. The stays are in my valise.”

  He quirked one eyebrow. “And have you changed your mind?”

  She shook her head. “My resolve has only grown firmer with each passing minute.”

  She released the material and it fell between them, revealing the low, square cut of her chemise. Her nipples were pebbled and tight beneath the white muslin. Begging to be sucked. He swallowed and gave his head a little shake. First her skirts needed to be removed, which she was already working on.

  “You look as though you are going to eat me alive,” she said nervously.

  “It is in reciprocation of the look you are giving me.”

  She pushed her skirts down and stepped out of the heavy pleated layers that had kept the last of her hidden from him. She wore no drawers either, and he could see the dark outline of her mons beneath the short chemise, which would have to come off in short order.

  When he reached for her, to pull her close, to feel her curves smashed against him, she danced out of reach. “I believe it’s your turn.”

  There would be no hiding his state of erection once his trousers were removed, not that he was doing a good job of it now. He removed the remainder of his clothes and stood ready for her inspection.

  Her eyes widened the lower they traveled on his form. She took him all in, and the only thing he read in her expression was unfulfilled desire. “If you continue to look at me like that, I will not be able to hold myself back.”

  “I don’t want you to hold—­”

  She was in his arms before she could finish her sentence.

  SOPHIE COULDN’T BELIEVE she was actually going through with this. She could not believe she stood mostly naked in the Duke of Helmsworth’s bedchamber, and a marriage ceremony was only a few hours away.

  More astonishing, she couldn’t believe she was staring at a fully naked and aroused man for the first time in her life. She saw his intentions before he even moved. She barely got her chemise off before he caught her up in his arms and edged her back toward the bed. In theory, she could well guess what came next. In practice, well, she had no practice at this sort of thing, and there was nothing to do but hand the reins over to Adrian so he could show her just what she had asked for.

  His hand skimmed over her back, his knuckles grazing the cheeks of her buttocks. A shiver of delight overcame her and had goose pimples raising the little hairs on her arms. When his hand cupped her bare breast and rotated around her nipple, she thought she was done for. Her knees were weak and barely holding her up as it was.

  “What do you want most right now, Sophie?”

  His hand rotated around her breast, the caress methodic and meant to arouse her senses to the fullest. “I don’t know,” she replied.

  “What would happen in one of your naughty books right now?”

  “The man would suck—­”

  Again, the words didn’t make it past her lips. Adrian leaned her over his arm, arching her chest up, and sucked her nipple gently into his mouth. The cool, wet sensation of his mouth there had her legs rubbing together to try and assuage the ache building deep inside her womb. His teeth scraped her gently, his free hand squeezed and tickled her breast.

  “I cannot stand for much longer.” She was afraid she would fall over as she melted against his wicked mouth.

  Adrian released her and she cried out at the sudden absence of his mouth. He grabbed her by the waist and tossed her onto the bed, following her in all his naked glory. His manhood was heavy and brushed against the hair at her center, then rubbed along her lower stomach. He picked up where he’d left off, giving her other breast the same treatment as the first.

  Sophie arched off the bed, the sensation too much and not enough all at the same time. She’d never expected this. Never expected to want something so carnal and so perfectly sexual that he robbed her of all modest thoughts.

  Her legs opened to him, wanting to hold him in the cradle of her thighs.

  “I need more. I don’t know what I want, but I need more.”

  He blew a cool stream of air over her nipple as he released it. His hand lowered between them, parting the folds of her sex. Her eyes widened. To be touched so intimately stole her breath away.

  Adrian said something under his breath when he found the wetness between her thighs. “You are ready for me.”

  Her legs were scissoring, desperate to be touched harder, heavier, with more force than his hand could provide. He was off her before she could protest, his shoulders forcing her legs to open wider. She swallowed back a protest when the first touch of his tongue against that private part of her nearly shattered her. His tongue was wicked and unrelenting as he tasted her, sucked her, and swirled around a sensitive part of her that seemed to swell with need. Whatever he did to her, she clasped onto his head, unsure if she was going to push him away to give herself relief from the delicious onslaught of his mouth, or pull him in closer.

  Mewling sounds of pleasure fell from her throat. When she thought she couldn’t take it any longer, he thrust a finger deep inside her sheath, and she felt herself let go. There was no other way to describe the feeling that filled her breast and made her body explode from the inside out. Her voice was stuck in her throat, as was her breath. She pressed toward him, never wanting the sensation he’d given her to end.

  When she came down from the high of her euphoria, she said, “I need you, Adrian. Make me yours, please.”

  His mouth landed on hers as he positioned himself above her, and she could taste herself on his tongue, could feel the wetness on his face as their mouths melded. He wedged himself between her legs, stretching her open, his tongue thrusting deep, tempting her tongue to play along, and it did.

  The first press of his penis against her entrance was a foreign feeling, but not an unpleasant one. She squirmed in his hold, desperate to be closer. He took hold of himself and spread the wetness that had gathered at her entrance, thrusting through the delicate flesh of her mons, heightening her pleasure with every touch.

  Her hands tangled in his hair, holding his mouth close as he entered her slowly at first, letting her get used to his size. His arms flexed where he held his weight from her. He was tense, and looked as though he barely held on to the last of his restraint. Sophie wrapped her legs around his lean hi
ps and locked her ankles behind his buttocks. Before she could think better of it, and in the height of her passion, she pulled him forward hard and fast until he was fully seated.

  He tore his mouth from hers. “Sophie.”

  There was a twinge of discomfort, but it dissipated with every second.

  She looked up at her fiancé. “I am not as delicate as you are treating me.”

  “No, you’re my minx.”

  “Only when the occasion calls for it.”

  He smiled down at her before pulling partially out and reseating himself. She arched into him, liking the sensation more than she ever thought possible. Their bodies strained to be closer. Sweat eventually dampened their skin. And all too soon, Adrian was stilling inside her, his seed pumping hot along the walls of her sheath. He rolled to his side, bringing her with him, his breath heavy, his eyes drowsy.

  She gave him a chaste kiss on the mouth.

  “I never expected that. I never knew it could be like that.”

  “We are hardly done.” The promise of those words had a sigh leaving her lips.

  And for three more hours, he taught her more than one way two ­people could make love.

  Chapter Seven

  Christmas Day

  “SOPHIE, WHAT DO you think of this angel for the top of the tree?” Adrian asked his wife as he turned from the crates of decorations they’d spent the morning sorting through in the main parlor of the house.

  The angel wore a gown of gold and burgundy, a wreath around her long blonde locks. She looked more like a child’s doll than a Christmas ornament.

  Sophie’s smile was bright and cheery as she faced him, and her cheeks held a hint of color from their earlier exertions. She scrunched up her nose. “I think she is too grand for our modest tree. She will tip the top right over.”

  While they had picked the tree and it had been brought to the house three days ago, neither of them had seemed willing to leave their bed to decorate it before now.