Page 29 of A Night of Passion with the Duke

He arranged them in order of priority and scanned them, but sensing an intense gaze on the side of his face, he looked up. His butler still stood there with a displeased look on his face.

“A penny for your thoughts, Aldwin.” Edward sighed, looking away from him, already suspecting what the man wanted to say. “And don’t bother beating about bush. I can hear you thinking.”

“You shouldn’t be here, Your Grace,” the butler stated, the words rushing out of him as if he’d been waiting so long to say them.

“Oh, and why, pray tell?” Edward asked, leaning back in his seat.

“’Tis your wedding night.”

“And?”

“You should be with your young bride.”

Edward raised an eyebrow at the man. One could almost say he was… concerned.

“Coming from you, who’d thought her a paramour?”

“You’d been gone more than a week with no word, Your Grace,” Aldwin explained, his cheeks flushing.

“Speak freely,” Edward ordered, wanting the conversation to be over and done with quickly.

He didn’t like how the suggestion was starting to appeal to him more than it had before.

“How was anyone to know you’d bring home a wife?”

“Tell me, Aldwin.” He glared at his butler. “Do I make a habit of disappearing to dally with paramours?”

“Well, no, but?—”

“But nothing,” he cut him off, not caring he was being rude to a man twice his age. “You do not tell me when I should or shouldn’t spend time with my wife. If I need help carrying out my marital duties, I’ll let you know.”

“I… I…”

“You’re dismissed, Aldwin,” he ordered, not looking at the man for fear of regretting how he’d spoken to him.

The door closed with a gentle slam, but he knew he had upset him.

“Fuck!” Edward groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

The truth was, he had considered going to claim his husbandly right from his young wife, but he wondered how Arabella would respond, considering he hadn’t spoken two words to her the whole week.

He wasn’t a bastard who didn’t know when he’d hurt a woman’s feelings. She had been braver than him tonight—but then she’d always been brave.

Her words at the ball had haunted his sleeping and waking moments, and he was sorely tempted to give her the night of passion she’d asked for, but he held back.

The lust she ignited within him had made him lose control more than once, and until he built resistance to the charms she didn’t know she possessed, he wanted to keep his hands off her tempting body even if it killed him.

Memories of their kiss haunted him now, and his pants tightened as the lust that had nearly driven him to lift her skirts and take her irrespective of how close her family was coiled in his belly.

He wondered whether she’d taste as sweet as the lavender essence she had bathed in, whether he’d be able to last when he sheathed himself in her silken heat.

“Fuck!” he groaned, rising from his seat to pace around the room and downing the rest of his drink.

He could imagine her cries of pleasure as he teased that bud of pleasure between her legs.

He groaned, palming himself as he became unbearably hard in his breeches, working himself to the thought of her coming undone around his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

“Fuck!” He came with a groan into his hands and instantly felt shame at his actions.

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