The Duke of Lies (The Untouchables Book 9)

by Darcy Burke

  “Sometimes I prefer not to talk at all,” he murmured against her neck before he suckled her flesh. He pressed his finger into her sheath and felt her contract around him. She was so very responsive—hot and wet and eager. He could just slide right into her. He moved his lips to her ear. “Is this all right?”

  “No.”

  He stopped his hand and began to withdraw.

  She turned in his arms. “Don’t stop. It’s more than all right. But it’s also not enough.” She shook her head. “I’m terrible at this.”

  “Not true.” He kissed her, smiling against her mouth. “You’re wonderful at this.”

  She looked into his eyes, her irises dark. “I want to be. Show me.” She rolled him to his back and moved onto his chest, splaying her hands over his nipples.

  When she touched him, hell when she looked at him with that half-seductive, half-inquisitive stare, it was as if he were a young lad who’d never yet known a woman. As if he were a man who’d been too long without a woman, a sensation he was familiar with. But it was more than that. He’d been with many women who’d slaked the thirst of a long drought. Verity was wholly different.

  She lifted her head to press her lips to his. “Can I be…on top of you like this?”

  “You can be wherever you like.” He kissed her back, snaring her lips and tongue in a blissful tangle. Putting his hands on her waist, he pulled his mouth from hers. “It’s easiest if you sit up.”

  She rose from his chest and straddled his hips. “Like this?”

  “Yes, just like that.” He couldn’t keep from staring at her breasts and the way they swayed as she moved. Round with pert, dark rose-brown nipples, they captivated him completely.

  “Kit.”

  He heard the frown in her voice and jerked his gaze to her face. “Mmm?”

  “Is it really easier for me to sit up, or do you just prefer this view?” She arched her brows at him as she took her hands and cupped the underside of her breasts.

  Dear God, but the sight of her touching herself was almost his undoing. “It’s, er, both.” His voice sounded strained, as if he were holding on to the mast in the midst of a thunderous storm. “Could you, ah, keep doing that?”

  “What?” She caressed her flesh, making her breasts move. “This?”

  Blood rushed to his cock. “Yes. That. And maybe touch your nipples. If it’s not too much trouble.”

  She blushed, hesitating before she pinched her thumb and forefinger together over each nub. “Like this?”

  “God, yes. And pull them, just a bit.”

  She did, tugging her flesh and holding on.

  He struggled to take a deep breath and simply couldn’t. “Does that feel good?” He barely recognized the sound of his own tortured voice.

  “Yes, but not as good as when you do it.” Her tone had also lowered to a husky rasp. “But the way you’re looking at me—”

  He reached up and cupped her nape, dragging her down for an openmouthed, scorching kiss. He licked and sucked at her mouth, devouring her in an attempt to satiate his raging lust. She kissed him back with equal abandon and fervor until he feared he might burst.

  He drew back with a sharp gasp. “Verity, I’m going to spill my seed if we don’t commence.”

  “Show me,” she repeated.

  Putting his hands on her waist once more, he guided her back. “Raise yourself over my cock.” When she did, he grasped the base of his shaft and pressed the tip to her wet sheath. “Now lower yourself.”

  She rested her hands on his chest, and he watched as she sank onto his flesh, impaling herself inch by delicious inch. Her channel tightened around him, encompassing him in dark, spectacular velvet. When she was flush against him, he groaned, putting his hand back on her waist.

  Without direction, she began to move, up and down, going slowly at first. Her breasts taunted him, and he couldn’t resist reaching for the globes. He massaged her, using his fingers to coax her nipples into stiff, tight peaks. Desperate to taste her, he moved one hand beneath her arm to her back and urged her forward.

  She descended, changing the angle of their joining. As soon as she was close enough, he came up off the pillow and took her nipple into his mouth. He kissed and sucked her, and she began to move on him more quickly.

  Cries of delight and anticipation flew from her mouth as he licked her. She pumped her body over his, taking him deep, then nearly relinquishing him from her flesh, then doing it all over again. Her speed increased as her muscles worked, and he sensed she was building to her release.

  Then the world stopped for the briefest moment. She sat back slightly, pulling her breast from his mouth. Her hand cupped his balls, and he jerked with need. His climax had been building, but now it rushed over him. He gripped her hips and drove into her with mindless desire. She cried out, her moans filling the chamber as she met him thrust for thrust. She bore down around him, and he spent himself with a final cry of ecstasy.

  She fell forward, collapsing onto his chest, her breathing fast and hard to match his own. He caressed her back and smoothed her hair as he fought his way back to full awareness.

  After a few minutes, she slipped to his side and he clasped her tight against him. She rested her head on his shoulder, and Kit didn’t think he’d ever felt more content. But he knew it couldn’t last. Not until they surmounted the obstacles before them.

  With regret, he pierced their veil of bliss. “I need to tell you about what I found at Cuddy’s.” He’d reviewed the ledger after she’d left him the other night.

  She put her hand on his chest and lifted her head to look up at him. “What’s that?”

  “Cuddy kept a ledger detailing his embezzlement—receipts of what he stole and payments to multiple recipients.”

  Her eyes widened with alarm or interest or both. “To whom?”

  “I don’t know. There are amounts next to letters or numbers or, in one case, a symbol.”

  Her brow creased. “What sort of symbol?”

  “A cross on its side.”

  “He couldn’t have been giving money to a church.” She scoffed, resting her head back on Kit’s shoulder. “I’m not sure he ever went.”

  “I doubted that too, but what do I know of Cuddy? I wish I’d been able to get him to talk. I found one other thing—a letter from your father. In it, he said he would take care of matters regarding his dismissal and told Cuddy to remain in Blackburn.”

  Verity snorted, and Kit had to stifle a laugh at such an inelegant sound coming from her lips. “Of all the pompous things to say… But of course he would tell Cuddy he would handle it. I do believe he thinks Cuddy reported to him.”

  And because of that, Kit wondered if her father wasn’t somehow involved in the embezzlement. That was another reason he wanted to go to London—to query her father. “Given your father’s association and involvement with Cuddy, would it be a stretch to think he might know of the embezzlement?”

  Verity stiffened, but only for a moment. “That would be…distressing. May I see the ledger and my father’s letter?”

  “Of course. I would appreciate your counsel.” He kissed the top of her head and stroked her arm. He wasn’t ready to leave their cocoon just yet. He was enjoying getting to know her without secrets and lies between them. “How did you come to marry Rufus?”

  She took a breath and hesitated, but only for a moment. “We were invited to a house party here—I was just nineteen. My father was always soliciting invitations for us in the hope that I would catch the eye of an important nobleman.”

  “And you caught Rufus’s eye.” Kit had no trouble believing that. He would choose her from every other woman in the world.

  She nodded. “Apparently. It was a terrible house party—that was when Augustus’s son fell into the pond and drowned. Rufus tried to save him, but he was too late.” She frowned momentarily, her expression turning pensive. “Actually, that’s the only time I recall Rufus displaying any compassion or care. Augustus was devastated, and
Rufus made a great effort to comfort him. I remember being impressed by that, and it’s why I accepted his marriage proposal. He asked that we wait six months so they could observe a mourning period. I was, of course, more than happy—or at least relieved—to delay. I didn’t even know him, but I looked forward to doing so based on what I’d seen. My father was overjoyed.” She looked up at Kit. “It was such a coup—me marrying the heir to a dukedom. In hindsight, I wondered if my father employed some method of extortion to bring it about.”

  Her mention of the word extortion sent ice down Kit’s spine. His suspicions regarding her father suddenly seemed more credible. “Why did you think that?”

  “It was incredibly important to my father that I marry well. He craved a title so badly and did everything he could to make me attractive to suitors—tutors, deportment, dancing lessons. But I was still just the granddaughter of a baronet without particular wealth or influence. Without something beneficial to offer, how could he persuade the next in line to a dukedom to marry me?”

  “Persuasion would not be necessary if I were the groom. One look at you, and I’d be lost. One day with you, and I’d be enslaved. One lifetime with you would not be enough.” He felt her shiver.

  She turned her head up to his, her eyes bright with desire. “Kit.”

  In spite of their earlier activities, his cock hardened. “Isn’t it possible Rufus saw you and was smitten?”

  “It’s possible, I suppose, and it’s certainly what I believed at the time. He didn’t reveal his true character until after we were wed. At the house party, he seemed a bit aloof, but that changed after Godwin died. We didn’t remain long, but from what I could see, he was greatly affected.”

  “You said he was aloof—wasn’t he courting you during the party?”

  “Not particularly. We danced a couple of times, and I sat next to him at dinner one night. But he seemed to gravitate toward me after the tragedy occurred.” She frowned. “I never realized that before.”

  “Perhaps he was looking for consolation and you were kind to him. At least that’s how I imagine you were.”

  “You’re sweet.” She leaned up and kissed him. “I do remember my father encouraging me to comfort him.”

  Something about this felt off to Kit. “With Godwin’s death, Rufus became the heir presumptive.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you say Godwin drowned. Did anyone witness it?”

  Her forehead wrinkled as her features turned contemplative again. “No. The gentlemen had gone for a ride, and Rufus had stayed behind with him because he needed to take a break. He gave the boy some privacy, and when he didn’t return, Rufus found that he’d fallen into the pond.”

  He recalled her anxiety the day they’d picnicked there. “You were thinking about that when we were at the pond with Beau.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t want to say anything, not in front of Beau.”

  He could understand that. “So the only person who can definitely say what happened to Godwin was Rufus, who would directly benefit from the boy’s death. How convenient.”

  Verity’s eyes widened as she pushed up to a sitting position. “You think Rufus killed him?”

  Kit lifted a shoulder. “I think it’s impossible to know. Where was your father during all this? Was he on that ride?”

  “He was, and now I recall that someone asked where he was because he’d been riding at the back—Augustus wanted to know if anyone had seen or heard anything. My father said he hadn’t.” She blinked at him. “You don’t think he was involved somehow?”

  “I don’t know what to think, but it all sounds very suspicious, as does Augustus’s sudden decline before his death. He wrote a letter to my father before he died—the new vicar gave it to me along with some other items when I visited upon my return.”

  “That’s nice that he saved some of your father’s things.”

  Kit nodded, but his mind was on the letter. “He wrote about his sadness over losing his son and his regret over not doing more for me. He said he wasn’t long for the world and that he wasn’t ready to go, that he didn’t like his heir and that he wished it were me instead.”

  Her gaze softened. “With an endorsement like that, it’s no wonder you want to stay.”

  “It didn’t sound like a letter written by a man dying of sadness—he wanted to live.” Again, Kit wondered if something nefarious had occurred but doubted he’d ever know.

  “Kit, I think we should go to London so that you can appear in the House of Lords and be recognized as the duke.”

  Kit sat up and tried to focus on her face instead of the curve of her breasts. “You do?”

  “We must if we want to preserve our family.”

  His breath caught. “Do you want that?”

  “More than anything.” He reached for her, but she held him at bay, lifting her hand. “I don’t want to lose you, and I’m in danger of that until you’re declared the duke. Once you have the title, no one will be able to take it away.”

  “You’re terribly confident.” He wished he was.

  Her gaze softened, but carried the courage he’d come to admire so much. “I have nothing else. I’m determined we will be a family.”

  Her bold declaration along with her fervor were the sweetest things he’d ever heard. “I love you.” He clasped the back of her head and drew her forward for a deep, lingering kiss.

  She jerked away, startling him. “What time is it?” She looked frantically toward a clock on the mantel. “I’m surprised Beau hasn’t come in yet.” She sprang from the bed. “You should clean up and put something on.”

  She briefly left the chamber then came back wearing a night rail just as he’d pulled his shirt over his head.

  It was a near thing, for Beau came into the chamber just as Kit pulled his breeches on. Beau stared at him, blinking as if he’d just awakened—and Kit supposed he had—then he looked at Verity, who stood next to the bed appearing as guilty as Kit felt. Or maybe that was his imagination.

  “Papa?” Beau turned his attention to him once more. “What are you doing here?” He took in Kit’s attire. “Did you sleep here?”

  Kit blinked, unsure of what to say. He looked toward Verity who cast a glance in his direction.

  She saved him by answering. “Yes, Papa slept here.”

  Beau came toward him. “Were you scared, Papa? That happens to me sometimes.”

  “No. I was—” He wasn’t entirely sure what to say, but in this case decided he didn’t want to lie. Which was ironic since this was a situation in which it was likely more than acceptable to do so. “I wanted to kiss your mother.”

  Beau’s look of utter disinterest nearly made Kit laugh. “Because you don’t like to do it in front of people.”

  A chuckle escaped Kit’s mouth. He couldn’t help it. “Apparently.” In truth, he’d kiss Verity wherever she’d give him leave.

  “I’m hungry. Can we have breakfast now?” Beau asked.

  “Yes,” Verity said. “Let’s get dressed.” She looked at Kit, who gathered up the rest of his clothing. His shoes were near the bed, right next to Verity, in fact. He went to slide them onto his feet, and she turned toward him, her gaze locking with his. Her lips parted, and his body stirred once more.

  Without thinking, he bent his head and kissed her. It was brief but enticing, a promise of what was to come.

  Provided nothing went wrong before he became the duke.

  After spending the day preparing to leave for London, Verity said good night to Beau as Kit began to read to him. She watched them for a moment, her heart full, before turning to go to her chamber. It had taken a great deal of work, but they would leave in the morning in two carriages—the first carrying her, Beau, and Kit, and the second carrying Beau’s tutor and her maid. She’d sent a letter to Simon and Diana informing them of their arrival. They’d be delighted to welcome them at their town house in Mayfair.

  Due to the excessive activity of the day, she hadn’t seen or talked with Ki
t since that morning. They had so much to discuss, to learn about each other. She was eager for their life together to truly begin. She was also apprehensive, particularly about Cuddy’s death and whether Kit would be held responsible. Surely he wouldn’t be, not when he was only defending himself. Perhaps they should visit the constable.

  Yes, they should, but she was afraid to do so until he was declared the duke in the House of Lords.

  She climbed into bed to wait for Kit. He hadn’t moved into her chamber but they planned for him to do that when they returned. They had, however, planned for him to join her tonight. She didn’t want to spend another night without him.

  Apparently the day’s work had been exhausting because she fell asleep and didn’t awaken until the sun was peeking beneath the curtains. Blinking, she felt a warmth against her back and smiled. She rolled over to face Kit and was surprised to see his eyes were open, their dark pupils fixed on her.

  “Good morning,” he said softly, his deep voice sliding over her like warm bathwater.

  She trailed her fingertips along the side of his face and along his jaw. “Why didn’t you wake me last night?”

  “You were very asleep and, frankly, too beautiful to disturb.”

  She caressed his shoulder. “I wish you had.”

  He reached for her beneath the covers, his hand stroking her hip. “I can disturb you now, if you like.”

  She lifted her lips in a seductive smile. “I like.”

  Keeping his gaze locked with hers, he guided her onto her back and came over her, his mouth taking hers in a soft but searing kiss. Leaving her breathless, he moved down her body as he pushed her night rail up. He disappeared beneath the covers and kissed her hip. She started with gasp, closing her eyes as she cast her head back on the pillow.

  He trailed his lips over her flesh while he brought his hand to the curls between her legs. Instinctively, she opened her legs, knowing what he meant to do—he’d told her he wanted to.

  His breath tickled her folds just before his fingertips stroked her there. She shuddered as desire quickened in her belly and settled low in her pelvis.