Page 26 of Trapped with her Cruel Duke

“I told you that you would beg me, woman,” he muttered. “So, beg me.”

“I would never,” she said weakly.

“Is that so?”

His lips moved to her neck, the touch like a rose petal brushing over her flesh, but it made her heart beat erratically all the same. His fingers curled inward, and she shuddered, a moan escaping her lips as a lightning rod of pleasure juddered through her.

“Beg.”

Her hands moved around his arms and shoulders to settle on his back, her body already a slave to his will even as her mind attempted to rebel against him. He brought his lips back to hers, and their eyes met and held as he hovered above her. Louise felt the exquisite touch of his hand through the folds of her dress, and she couldn’t bear it any longer as her lips parted on words she had always sworn she would never say.

“Please…” she breathed. “Christian.”

With a deep groan, he lowered his lips to hers, moving her so that she was pinned between his body and the desk.

Letting out a cry, she threw out her hand behind her as he bent her backward, supporting her lower back as he removed his hand from between her legs and pushed it roughly into her hair.

She felt the ribbons come loose instantly as her long locks cascaded about her face and he pushed his fingers into the strands.

Maintaining a punishing grip, he ground his hips against hers, and she gasped in surprised pleasure at the wicked sensation it elicited. As the sound left her lips, his tongue thrust into her mouth without mercy.

She moaned as he tightened his grip on her hair, controlling the kiss, not allowing her a single quarter of movement. His kneemoved between her legs, and he thrust his hips against her thigh. She broke free of him, panting in the silent room, wishing she had the strength to push him away but knowing she did not.

As both her hands fell behind her for support, he lifted her onto the desk, moving between her spread thighs and taking her mouth again. He pushed his tongue inside, sending wicked shivers through her, and his fingers threaded through the long strands of her hair again.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and he chuckled against her neck as he licked his way back to her mouth. She was under his command, for good or ill, and her mind gave up the battle as she gave in to the pleasure.

CHAPTER 11

Louise shuddered against the Duke as he nipped the base of her jaw, her mouth falling open helplessly.

The shocking feeling of his hand between her legs had been so surprising that she could hardly believe it had happened. His body was hot against hers as he continued to kiss down her neck. She could have remained in his arms forever, but as his hand began to slide down her body again, her fingers tightened on his shoulders, and with an enormous effort, she pushed him away.

Drawing in deep, gasping breaths, she attempted to control her desire. She had not even known she possessed such a desperate need until that moment.

“This should not have happened,” she said quickly, sliding away from him, using the desk to support her weight and attempting to smooth down her skirts as she did so.

Christian straightened, watching her retreat with a quizzical expression. Somehow, despite what they had just done, he looked, for the most part, flawless. She felt a rush of embarrassment and desire in equal measure when she saw the redness around his mouth from her frenzied kisses.

How could I allow him to touch me that way? He sees me as nothing but a means to an end.

“And why not?” he drawled, turning his back to the desk and leaning against it. His broad shoulders bulged as he crossed his arms over his chest—the picture of aristocratic affront.

Why can’t I keep my eyes off this man?

“Remember, Duchess, you have limited time. In seven days—or is it six now?—I shall claim you for my own.”

Louise scowled at him as she attempted to fix the mess he had made of her hair. The ribbons that had tied the long strands in place were behind him on the desk, and she eyed them warily, not wishing to get any closer to him to retrieve them.

“It looks better loose,” Christian noted, his heated gaze running down the length of her hair over her breasts and back up again.

He twisted his torso around, his fingers plucking the ribbons off the desk before holding them out to her expectantly. A foreign rush of nerves shot through her at the idea of being close to him again.

There was tension in the air, just as there had been during their first meeting. She felt drawn to him, like the needle of a compass—pulled by some higher power, always returning to the same place. It was a dangerous and unfamiliar feeling.

But Louise was not a coward. She took a small step forward, snatching the ribbons from his fingers and clutching them tightly in her fist. He gave her a coy smile that set her blood on fire again, and she swiftly made for the door, eager to be out of his company and cool her heated blood.

However, Christian stepped forward before she could do so and gently took her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

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