How to Catch a Devilish Duke: The Disreputable Debutantes

by Bennett, Amy Rose

  Max’s eyes searched hers for the space of several heartbeats. He nodded. “I understand,” he said solemnly. “And you’re right. I certainly don’t give a jot about what any of those conceited, judgmental women think. Ultimately, I just want you to be happy. So, if you don’t wish to go, we won’t.”

  He reached into the inner pocket of his evening jacket and withdrew the Almack’s vouchers. He flashed a wicked smile. “Would you like to do the honors, or shall I?”

  Charlie looked at the cream tickets with their official red seal and the signature of one of the patronesses scrawled across it. “Are you certain you are all right with this, Max? You did go to a lot of trouble to procure them for me. And aren’t they ten guineas apiece?”

  “Never put a price on your happiness, Charlie. Life is too short.”

  “You’re right.” She took the vouchers from Max and ripped them in two. “There.” With a grin, she tossed the pieces into the air and watched them flutter to the carriage floor. “That was most satisfying.”

  Max reached up and rapped three times on the carriage roof.

  “You’re taking me home?” Charlie asked as the coachman deftly maneuvered Max’s carriage out of the line of traffic and proceeded down the wrong side of King Street until they were clear of the snarl.

  Max turned to her, and his mouth curved into a slow, lazy smile. “Eventually. I believe there’s another item on your secret list of wishes and dreams we can mark off.”

  Oh… Charlie’s breath quickened. “I gather you’re not taking me all the way to the coast so I can sea-bathe?”

  “As tempting as that proposition sounds, not tonight.” Max removed his top hat and gloves and placed them with deliberate care on the seat across from them. “No. Tonight I think a carriage ravishment is in order.” He reclaimed the spot beside her, his arm resting behind her head, then cocked a brow. “That is, if you are still amenable to the idea, Lady Charlotte.”

  “I’ve never been more so,” she whispered. Acute longing seemed to have stolen her breath as she took in the sight of Max looking back at her with lust in his gaze. “Right at this very moment, if you consulted any dictionary, the definition of ‘amenable’ would be Lady Charlotte Hastings.”

  That devilish grin appeared again. “I think that same dictionary would define the term ‘utterly captivated’ with the words Maximilian Devereux, the Duke of Exmoor.” He leaned in close and caught one of her trailing curls with gentle fingers. “So, my lady”—his warm breath brushed against her lips as he whispered in a dark velvet voice full of wicked promise—“are you ready to be ravished and rumpled to the point of complete dishevelment?”

  Charlie’s heart somersaulted with sheer delight. “My answer to that is a resounding ‘yes’, Your Grace. Ravish and rumple away.”

  Max reached for one of her hands. Holding her gaze, he slid the pearl buttons at the top of her glove undone, then slowly peeled the satin away. “I’m firmly of the opinion that a ravishment done the right way should never be a hurried affair,” he murmured, then repeated the process with her other glove. Wherever his teasing fingertips brushed, he left a trail of gooseflesh. “A ravishment should be slow.” He placed a kiss upon the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. “Deliberate.” He kissed the crook of her elbow. “And thorough.”

  He pushed the curls grazing her neck to one side and feathered a kiss across her jawline. “No part of you should be left untouched or wanting. But tell me, Charlie…” His mouth slid to her neck, and she felt his tongue taste an exquisitely sensitive spot just below her ear. “What did you imagine when you put this particular item on your list? Was this what you had in mind?”

  “This is far better,” she admitted on a breathless whisper. Her fingers curled into Max’s lapels. “I’m quite content to follow your lead.”

  “Good.” All at once, Max dragged Charlie across his lap. One strong arm lashed her body to his while his other hand cradled her face. His thumb stroked across her lower lip. “Do you know how lusciously beautiful you are, Lady Charlotte Hastings? Or how much I want you?”

  Judging by the steel-hard shaft jutting against her thigh, Charlie could indeed feel how much Max desired her. The thought of his arousal made her whole body liquid with longing. The blood flowing within her veins had turned to molten honey, and her very bones were as soft as sun-warmed butter. “I…I have an idea,” she murmured, sliding one of her hands between them. With gentle fingers, she caressed his long hard length through the fall of his evening breeches.

  Max groaned and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Sweet Jesus,” he whispered hoarsely, then stilled her hand with his. “This is supposed to be about your pleasure, not mine.”

  “Pleasing you will please me,” she returned. The knowledge that she could bring Max undone with just her touch was heady indeed.

  “All in good time, sweetheart. All in good time.” Max speared his fingers into her hair and brought his mouth down on hers in a searing, breath-stealing kiss.

  Max’s tongue boldly slid between her lips, and Charlie opened for him without hesitation. He delved deeply, each hot, slick stroke a languorous caress that she eagerly returned in kind. As each delicious, drugging kiss slid seamlessly into another, then another, Charlie soon found that her head was spinning and her body was aflame. However, all too soon, kisses weren’t enough to appease the fire that Max had ignited inside her. And he knew. Whether it was the way she squirmed upon his lap, or when he pulled a ragged moan from her throat, it hardly mattered. All that mattered was she needed more.

  And Max gave it to her. His clever fingers deftly loosened her buttons and laces, and before she knew it, he’d freed her breasts from the confines of bodice and stays. In the cool night air, her nipples hardened to tight, aching points.

  “Dear God,” he murmured, his voice filled with reverence. The ambient glow of passing gas lights intermittently illuminated her body and his rapt expression as he studied her nudity through half-mast lids. His hands cupped her gently, lifting and squeezing as though learning the shape and feel of her. “Charlie…I…”

  Unashamed, she smiled and let her fingers drift through his thick, ruffled locks. “You’re speechless?”

  “Yes. For such a long time, I’ve envisioned you just like this in my arms—” He broke off. Swallowed. His gaze met hers briefly before dropping again. “I hope you’ll forgive me for being so crude, but there’s no other way to say it. Lady Charlotte Hastings, your tits are utterly magnificent. If I were the least bit artistic, I’d capture their likeness on canvas. Or in marble. At the very least, I’d write a sonnet about them.”

  “We have something in common, then.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve also had thoughts about composing odes to your fine physique and handsome face.”

  He smiled as though genuinely pleased by her confession. “While we’re exchanging confidences, my lady, I have another one I’d like to share.”

  “Oh, yes?”

  Max’s thumbs brushed in teasing circles over and around her tightly furled nipples. “Not only have I long imagined what your delectable breasts would look like, their size and shape, and the precise color of your nipples—and I was right, they’re apricot-pink—I’ve also wondered how they would taste. And if I don’t bury my face between them at least once, I think I might die.”

  A breathy laughed escaped Charlie, and she clutched at Max’s head. “Well, we can’t have that, Your Grace. Do what you must.”

  “Thank God,” he groaned. He gave her a swift, hard kiss, then his mouth slid downward. He pressed his face into her cleavage, inhaled a deep breath as though memorizing her scent, then turned his head and seized one of her nipples between his lips. The sensation of his hot mouth gently but insistently suckling her was divine. At the same time, he continued to torment her other nipple, plucking and circling the taut, sensitized peak with his fingers.

  “Max,” she gasped, clutching at his head. His ministrations were exquisite
torture. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to stop or go on forever. Max was relentless, giving her no quarter. He transferred his mouth to her other nipple, tugging on it gently with his teeth before laving it with his tongue, driving her wild.

  Desire pulsed between Charlie’s thighs, and she shifted restlessly on his lap.

  “Do you want more, sweet Charlotte?” he whispered into the darkness. One of his hands slid beneath the hem of her ballgown and skated up her leg to her knee. His fingers danced circles over the sensitive flesh just above her silk stocking.

  “Oh God, yes.” And she meant it. With Max, she wanted everything.

  He caught her mouth in another blazing-hot kiss, and his fingers continued their wicked march up her thigh until they reached the curls hiding her sex. When he paused, Charlie whimpered in frustration.

  “Are you wet for me, Charlie?” he murmured against her lips.

  In response, she slid a leg to the side in shameless invitation. “Why don’t you find out, Your Grace?”

  Max didn’t hesitate to act. One long finger traced a teasing path between her slick, swollen folds before settling on her core. At the exquisite contact, Charlie shuddered and clutched at his shoulders. While she’d pleasured herself on many occasions, it had never, ever felt as wonderful as this. “Max,” she breathed as he began to mercilessly torment her oh-so-sensitive bud, rubbing and flicking and gently pinching. “Oh, that feels so good. Oh, don’t stop.”

  “I won’t.” When Max set his mouth to her breast, working her into a frenzy with tongue and lips, Charlie couldn’t contain a moan. The tension inside her was building, coiling tighter. Her release was so close. Perhaps sensing she was on the edge of bliss, Max slid a finger inside her. As he worked in and out of her quivering sex, he continued to tease her core with the pad of this thumb, circling and circling. Increasing the pace. Driving her higher.

  The moment he buried his face in her neck and lightly nipped the taut tendon at the juncture of her shoulder, she cried out in ecstasy. A wave of pleasure engulfed her, and she shuddered and shivered in Max’s arms as she rode the crest to completion. Drifting in a haze of delicious delirium, she clung to Max, her face pressed into his shoulder until he withdrew his hand and roused her with a gentle kiss at her temple.

  “I take it you found satisfaction, my lady?”

  She laughed and lifted her head. “I think it’s rather obvious that I did. I’ve never experienced such a powerful release before. It’s never been quite so…intense when I’ve—” She broke off and felt herself blushing, which was quite ridiculous, given the circumstances. She drew a breath and completed the thought. “When I’ve pleasured myself. Thinking about you.”

  He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek. “You think of me when you touch yourself? I’m sincerely flattered.”

  She studied his face, and even in the uncertain light, she detected a smile in his eyes. “You’re not shocked?”

  A ghost of a smile hovered on his lips. “About which part? The fact that you pleasure yourself on occasion, or that when you do so, I’m the man you’re picturing in your mind.”

  “Both.”

  “Both admissions please me. More than I can say. Because when I come by my own hand, I’m usually thinking about you too.”

  “Oh… You are?” His confession filled Charlie with a warm glow.

  “Of course,” he said. “Keeping my hands off you has been such a struggle for me. You have no idea. Up until now, I’ve had to make do with libidinous fantasies in the night in my private chambers.”

  A hot thrill coursed through Charlie. She couldn’t resist asking, “And what do I do in these libidinous fantasies, Your Grace? Were there any carriage trysts?”

  He laughed. “There might have been.”

  “And is this where your fantasy ends? With me achieving satisfaction, whereas you are left wanting?”

  Max’s expression sobered then. “As I said earlier, tonight is about fulfilling your dreams, not mine.”

  “But what if one of my dreams is to ravish you, Max? In a carriage when we’re all alone? You can’t deny that you want me. I’m sure that cockstand of yours could drive a nail through wood.”

  Max let out a snort of laughter. “Lady Charlotte Hastings. I can’t believe that you just said that.”

  “If I have my way, you’ll soon be saying, ‘Lady Charlotte Hastings, I can’t believe that you’re actually doing that’. But I am going to do it, Max. I’m not going home until you’ve come, too.”

  Devil take him. Charlie had that determined glint in her eye and stubborn set to her jaw that Max knew so well.

  He should say no to her salacious proposition. He really didn’t expect her to return the favor. But as she continued to sit on his lap with her chestnut hair in complete disarray, her rumpled skirts pushed up around her thighs, and her bountiful breasts still on full display, his will was quavering. His throbbing cock and aching ballocks certainly had no objections.

  He blew out a frustrated sigh and prayed for the strength to resist temptation. But all of his good intentions went up in a puff of smoke as soon as her wicked fingers stroked his shaft and she pressed her mouth to his ear and whispered exactly what she was going to do to him.

  Dear God above. Holding back the tide or stopping the world from turning would be a far easier task than saying no to his bold and beautiful fiancée. Especially when she began to undo the fall of his breeches and her bare fingers encircled his hot, rigid length. If he hadn’t gritted his teeth, he might have exploded like an untried youth at that very moment.

  However, when Charlie hopped off his lap and slid to her knees between his legs, the gentleman in him tried one last time to stop her.

  “Charlie,” he murmured, cupping her face between his hands. “Are you sure you want to do this? Do you really know what to expect?”

  She bit her lip, and for a moment, uncertainty flickered in her gaze. “I will confess that I’ve never done this before. But I have a thorough understanding of what to do and what will happen when you come. You seem to forget that all of my friends are married to former rakehells and, well, we talk. I’m more than ready to try this if you are.” She gave his cock another gentle squeeze, and when an involuntary hiss escaped him, her mouth curved into a provocative smile. “I promise I won’t bite. Well, not unless you want me to…”

  Minx. Max shook his head. “Very well. You’ve convinced me. I’ll let you have your wicked way with me. Only, I reserve the right to stop you at any time.”

  “Of course.” She lifted her tumble-down curls and pushed them over one shoulder. “Now, hold on tight, Max, because you’re about to lose all control.”

  Sweet Charlie, for all her inexperience, wasn’t wrong at all.

  As soon as her hot, wet mouth surrounded him, Max was done for. Lust pounded hot and hard through his veins, straight to his groin, and all rational thought fled.

  What Charlie lacked in finesse, she more than made up for with enthusiasm, and in no time at all, Max was cursing and shaking and groaning, and dear God… What she was doing with her tongue… She’d said she was a novice but… Holy blazing hell.

  Max’s thoughts began to fracture. He clutched at her head, and just as he realized he should warn her that he was going to orgasm, his ballocks contracted…and, oh sweet Jesus, he was there. A deep groan erupted from his throat as pleasure surged and he shuddered and jerked before sinking into mind-numbing ecstasy. Replete and spent, satisfaction radiated through him, flooding every part of him, penetrating deeply, right down to his very bones.

  When Charlie joined him on the seat again, he roused himself enough to gather her into his arms. “You are magnificent,” he murmured into her hair. “I really did lose control. For a moment, I think I even forgot who I was.”

  She kissed his throat, then he felt her lips curve in a smile against his skin. “Good. I’m glad. Now we’re both thoroughly rumpled and satisfied. It’s a night I will never forget.”

  Max captured her
chin and gently turned her face to his. “Thank you, Charlie. I mean that sincerely. This is a night I will never forget either. I wish…”

  I wish that I could be the man you deserve. A man who could love you… He swallowed the words. He didn’t want to make her sad, not when he could see the glow of satisfaction and triumph in her brandywine eyes.

  But somehow, ever-perceptive Charlie knew exactly what to say to ease the guilt shredding his soul. “You wish that we could do this again sometime?” She brushed a kiss across his lips. “Well, so do I. It’s been far more enjoyable than waltzing around a stuffy ballroom.”

  Max laced his fingers through hers and brought her hand to his lips. “That, my dear, is something we can agree on.”

  Chapter 22

  My List of Secret Wishes and Dreams:

  1) Sneak into a ‘Gentlemen’s Club’ to see what all the fuss is about;

  2) To be kissed, with passion, in the moonlight by a rake;

  3) Or in the rain (either will do);

  4) Ride hell-for-leather down Rotten Row at least once (Preferably not in the rain unless there’s any chance said passionate kiss happens straight afterwards.);

  5) Sea bathe, naked;

  6) Sit for a licentious portrait à la Lady Hamilton;

  7) To be thoroughly ravished in a carriage;

  8) Waltz the night away at Almack’s;

  9) To experience a Grand Passion that I will remember long into my dotage;

  10) The man (or should I say duke?) of my dreams falls in love with me.

  Hastings House, Berkeley Square

  April 28, 1819

  Charlie’s quill hovered over the ninth item on her “not-so-secret list of wishes and dreams” and she frowned. Was she ready to say that she’d had her Grand Passion? Could she put a line through it because she’d achieved her goal?