The Duke and the Lady

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The Duke and the Lady Page 13

by Clever, Jessie


  This was who she was, this warrior who defended those unable or unwilling to defend themselves; this was the woman who tore herself apart because her sister held a painful secret.

  By keeping himself to himself he’d stolen away a chance for her to be herself. It wasn’t about love. It was about Louisa and her beautiful soul.

  Regret and anger washed over him, and he hated himself in the instant of realization. He couldn’t let her go on as she had been. He could keep himself from falling in love with her. He had to because there was no other choice. He just wasn’t strong enough to watch Louisa die inside because of him.

  He didn’t wait to convince himself otherwise. He strode over to her and pulled her into his arms, crushing his mouth to hers.

  Sensation roared through him like a match striking dry hay, and he went up in an inferno of pent-up desire. This was what he wanted. This was what he craved. And Louisa needed him. He had to do this for her.

  He just hoped he could keep his heart safe.

  Chapter 10

  She was so surprised she didn’t respond to his kiss at first.

  But as soon as the warmth of his body spread through her, the feel of his hard muscles against her shoulders, her back, his hands clutching her to him—

  Then she was lost.

  What on earth was he doing?

  He had said he wished for them to lead separate lives. She had spent the past several weeks steeling her heart for an empty and lonely future, and now he was—

  Undoing the sash of her dressing gown.

  She shoved him away so hard he stumbled.

  Candlelight danced across his face, and she saw not only the shock of her pushing him away but also smoldering desire.

  He wanted her.

  The thought sent a thrill through her, and unconsciously, she took a step toward him and forced herself to stop.

  “What are you doing?” She blurted the question out as if it were her only chance of survival. “You said we were to live separate lives.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  Her gasp of surprise was audible. “You’re Sebastian Fielding. You don’t change your mind.”

  “I have done so in this instance. Now can we get on with it?” He held out his hands like a starving man would plead for bread.

  Warmth immediately pooled low in her belly, and she struggled to push it away.

  “No.” She swallowed, licked her lips. “No, you said separate lives, and I am trying very hard to do as you wish. What about your father? I will not be responsible for causing you to do the very thing you have sworn never to do.”

  He didn’t answer her. Instead his eyes shuttered, and a small grin came to his lips. Uneasiness shot through in sensual delight at the ideas that grin conjured. What was he playing at? She’d spent so much of her life making up for her impulsive decisions. Why would he tempt her like this now?

  Because she had tempted him first.

  The gasp stuck in her throat this time.

  “Is this about what I said in the carriage? I apologize for that as well. I shouldn’t have goaded you like that. I’ve learned my lesson.” She spewed the apology even as he took careful steps toward her.

  He hadn’t removed his jacket, and it was rumpled now. In fact, he was deliciously rumpled like she’d never seen him before, and her body yearned toward him.

  “Do you really think a few carefully planned words and a silly coquettish gesture—” He stopped here and turned his gaze to the side.

  She followed it and watched as he took two fingers and pushed the lapel of her loosened dressing gown off her shoulder.

  “—would tempt me.” He was close now, close enough for her to see the shots of gold in his eyes. “I already told you, darling.” He leaned in now, his lips so, so, so close to hers she almost whimpered. “I won’t be tempted.”

  When his lips closed over hers this time, she was ready. She returned the kiss with all the pent-up passion she’d been resolutely ignoring these past few weeks. She practically assaulted him with her desire, her annoyance at trying to expend her lust on fabric swatches and paint colors fueling her.

  She threw her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her as his hands slid down her back, cupped her bottom and yanked her against him.

  It was exhilarating.

  Her head fell back as his lips left hers, trailing hot kisses along her jaw, down the line of her neck until he nibbled at the fine bones of her collar.

  That’s when her knees gave, and her hands clutched at his shoulders to hold her up.

  “Sebastian.” She poured her plea into his name, but she didn’t know for what she was pleading.

  This.

  She wanted more of this, but she didn’t know what to ask for. Memories of that night on the terrace rushed back to her, and tension coiled deep within her. He’d made her say it then. Say what she wanted.

  She placed her lips close to his ear and whispered, “Sebastian, I want you.”

  The responding growl took her breath away, and his hands tightened, lifting her against him. No, not against him. He tossed her soundly on the bed.

  Her hair came loose from its plait, and she shoved it from her face to watch him. He shed his jacket impatiently, and his fingers were on the buttons of his waistcoat before she thought to throw up a hand to stop him.

  “Wait!”

  His eyes flew to hers even as his fingers stilled.

  She bit her lower lip, suddenly shy. “I’ve never seen you without your jacket. I just…I just want to look.”

  His smile was slow and devilish, but his fingers began to work at the buttons of his waistcoat again, except slowly this time, tantalizingly slow.

  She swallowed.

  “Are we demanding things now?”

  She pried her eyes from his wicked fingers, heat flooding her cheeks. “Demanding things? I’m only making suggestions.”

  His waistcoat joined his jacket. “Your suggestions always feel like demands in disguise.”

  Oh God, his shirt was next.

  She pressed a hand to her stomach, unable to bear the tightening there. He had to touch her soon or she would simply die.

  “Sebastian.” She hated how weak she sounded, but his fingers…his fingers…

  His shirt fell away, and she saw all of him. Well, all of his chest anyway, but it was enough to send her into a frenzy. She came up on her knees, yanking her traitorous nightdress away from her legs as she scrambled to get closer to him.

  “Sebastian, I—”

  But he was already there, cupping her head so gently in his hands as he placed a soft kiss on her lips.

  “I know, darling. I know exactly what you need.”

  She sighed against his lips, relief flooding through her at his touch.

  Her dressing gown soon joined the pile of clothes on the floor. The cool night air filtered through her thin night-rail, and she yearned toward the warmth of her husband’s body.

  His hands smoothed along the length of her back, and she pressed into him, her arms going around his neck to pull herself closer. But he didn’t stop to cup her bottom this time. Instead his fingers traveled lower, finding the hem of her night-rail and carefully, achingly, pulled it up a painful inch at a time. When his fingers finally brushed the soft skin of her thigh, she whimpered.

  He laughed softly, and the sound vibrated against her neck where he’d been plying sweet, hot kisses.

  “Eager, are you? I should remember not to make you wait so long next time.”

  His words had the fire in her spiraling to a painful focus, and she pushed against him, seeking the thing he had only briefly shown her before.

  “Easy, darling. You forget I’ve waited a long time, too.”

  He moved then, sweeping her night-rail over her head, and cool air rushed against her body, her nipples tightening instantly.

  He stood there, her night-rail hanging from one hand, and studied her. She wanted to cover herself, suddenly feeling vulnerable, but he�
�d already seen most of her. But it was the way he looked at her that had her hands falling useless at her sides.

  She had anticipated desire and passion and even lust in his gaze, but none of those things was there. Instead she felt cherished, she felt precious—

  She might have even felt loved if she could have believed that.

  “Beautiful.” He spoke the word much as he had that night on the terrace, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

  “Sebastian.” It was the only thing she could say as her heart squeezed in her chest from all the love he didn’t want her to feel but she could see plainly on his face.

  Her night-rail slipped from his fingers as he stepped forward and pulled her back into his arms. The rough hair on his chest chafed her nipples, the sensation so unexpected she looked down at where their bodies met.

  She could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Does that feel good, darling?”

  “Yes.” She felt ridiculous answering him, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away from the place where their bodies met.

  He was all hard planes and muscle where she was soft and curved. She ran her hands along the angles of his shoulders and down the contours of his arms.

  “I didn’t know this was hiding under that jacket.”

  “There’s still more to see.”

  She couldn’t keep her eyes from dropping to his trousers, but before she could ask to see what he still hid there, he captured her mouth in a searing kiss, nudging her lips open to invade her mouth. Sweet, sensual fire poured through her, and she clung to him as he bent her back, feasting on her neck, her collarbone, dipping lower until—

  “Sebastian.” She moaned his name, her fingers spiking through his hair as she pulled him closer.

  After what seemed an eternity, he found her breasts with his hot, wet mouth. He traced kisses along their curves in circles, coming achingly close to the place where she wanted him most and always pulling away at the last moment.

  “Sebastian,” she pleaded. “Please.”

  “You’re so polite, darling. Even in your desire.”

  He sucked one nipple into his mouth, and the heat made her buck against him. He held her still with his strong hands wrapped around her, but it was too much.

  “Sebastian, I need—”

  He reared back and for the first time, she saw the tension in the muscles of his neck, the concentration in his gaze.

  “Me too it would seem.”

  Gently, he lowered her back in the downy bed of pillows before going to work on his trousers. She lifted her head, curiosity making her want to see him. He shed his trousers much as he had the rest of his clothing, and she had hardly any time to study him properly, but what she did see frightened her.

  “Sebastian, you’re terribly—”

  She couldn’t finish the sentence as he slipped between her legs, his warm body coming fully along the length of hers.

  “Do finish that sentence, my dear,” he said, nuzzling at the sensitive spot behind her ear. “It’s rather rude to leave a man in question about the state of his physical attributes.”

  “Well, it’s just that you’re rather large. I have an idea of how this is supposed to work, and I’m not convinced we’re a proper match.”

  He pushed up on his elbows, hovering above her with a wicked grin. “We will fit. I promise you that.”

  He went back to nuzzling her neck, but her concern didn’t fade until his fingers traveled their way down her hip, her thigh, slipping into that part where heat pooled. He was so very wicked in his intentions, swirling around that place where tension coiled but never touching her where she wanted it.

  “Sebastian.” She moved her hips against him, hoping to direct his hand to that spot, but he only laughed softly in her ear.

  “So impatient.”

  He slipped one finger between her moist folds, prodding gently, and she started against his hand, the sensation too great. But then his fingers became focused, circling her sensual nub until she could do nothing but writhe beneath him.

  “Oh God, Sebastian.”

  Her fingers dug into his back, but she didn’t notice. She could only focus on the way he made her feel, the sensations rippling through her body, building and building until—

  She came apart in his arms, but even as it happened, he pushed against her opening, and suddenly he was inside of her.

  Her body, already aroused by what he had just done to it, slipped around him with ease, only constricting when he was fully inside of her.

  She lay absolutely still, allowing her body to adjust to him.

  “Are you all right, my darling?”

  “I think so.” She turned her head to see him better as he perched above her. “You are still so terribly big.”

  He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. “Does it hurt?”

  She’d felt a pinch of pain when he’d first entered her, but now the aftereffects of her orgasm echoed through her muscles, leaving her in a puddle of contentment.

  “I don’t think so.”

  He moved his hips ever so slightly, and the fullness inside of her changed, sharpening until she felt a spark of the fire that had so recently pooled there.

  “Sebastian, I…I…well, it’s just that that felt good.”

  “It’s supposed to feel good,” he said against her neck, the underside of her jaw, her mouth.

  “You’re very distracting with your kisses, Your Grace.”

  He laughed against her mouth this time, and she reveled in the sound of it, so free and unsurprising. That more than anything shot a thrill through her, and she wrapped her arms tightly around him as he began to move.

  She thought it impossible, but the tension between her legs once more pooled until she didn’t think she could bear it.

  “Sebastian, I need—”

  “I know, darling. So do I.”

  He slipped a hand between them, and when his finger touched her sensitive nub, she exploded.

  “Louisa.” It was the last thing he said before his body tensed above her, and he collapsed in her arms.

  As sleep wrapped its drugging arms around her, she had only one thought.

  Maybe Sebastian could be fixed.

  * * *

  He woke to the feeling of a warm body flung across his chest, and reality seeped back into his brain one piece at a time.

  He’d made love to his wife.

  Louisa.

  His eyes flew open only to be met with muted candlelight. He must not have fallen asleep for long. The fire still burned, and the few candles that had been lit still glowed on the mantelpiece and nightstand.

  He slowly became aware of other things. Like how tightly Louisa held him, her arm tucked around his side while her head pressed into his chest, her exquisite body fitting perfectly along his.

  He ached just holding her.

  Years of a loneliness he hadn’t known was there flooded through him as his arm tightened about her shoulders, tucking her more squarely against him.

  Loneliness was a physical thing, and that he could handle. He could allow her to take away the hollowness that had plagued him while still protecting his heart.

  He remained that way for some time, listening to her deep breathing interspersed with the crack of the fire. Absently, his fingers twined in her hair, catching a fistful of the silky strands. God, he could stay like that forever. Just holding her. Just listening to the silence and feeling the beat of her heart against him.

  He had expected fear, waited for it to rear its ugly, cynical head, but it never did. There was only the stillness of the night wrapping them in a sheltered cocoon of their own making.

  He couldn’t stop his mind from traipsing back over what she had said before he had thoroughly ravished her. He felt a lick of worry at her repeated use of the phrase perfect duchess and its implications. Why did she continue to say such a thing and what did it really mean? What could cause her to be so fascinated with perfection?

  Not for the fi
rst time he wondered about her mother’s death. Her reaction to the elderly aunts at the wedding breakfast was more than just the sudden grief that comes with the reminder of a beloved parent’s death. It wasn’t grief he had seen in her eyes that day. It was fear and even more strangely, guilt.

  In the quietness now, he allowed himself to think of it, and worse, he wondered what could be done. He had tried to ask her of it, but she clearly wished to keep whatever it was that frightened her to herself. Even now, he didn’t feel as though he could ask her again.

  But there was someone else he could ask of it.

  She stirred then, snapping his mind back to the present. Without opening her eyes, she reached downward as if searching for a blanket. They had failed to get beneath the covers in their earlier madness, and her search was futile.

  He stilled her wandering hand with his own. “Shhh, darling. I will warm you.”

  He turned against her, wrapping her in the warmth of his body as her head fell to the pillow and he captured her mouth in a soft, exploring kiss. He felt her come awake by degrees, her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he kissed her temple, buried his nose in her luxurious hair. He pulled back to catch her gaze and found her studying him with a wondrous expression.

  “You are here,” she whispered.

  He couldn’t help but smile at her dreamy tone. “Where else would I be?”

  Her arms slipped around his neck, holding him close. “I had feared it was all a dream.”

  He kissed her again, unable to stay away. “It is not a dream, my darling. I promise you that.”

  He traced the line of her jaw and found that spot he so liked just behind her ear. When he pressed his lips to it, she squirmed against him, and he hardened just anticipating what was to come.

  He pulled back, smoothed the hair from her face. “Are you sore?”

  She shook her head, stretching her arms in a glorious show of contentment, yes, but it did wonderful things to her beautiful breasts. He watched them rise as if she offered them for his tasting, and who was he to deny her offer?

  He pressed his lips to one, tracing the delicate curve of the full mound until he reached the sensitive underside where he licked his way back up, teasing her nipple as she writhed against him.

 

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