Page 29 of His Abandoned Duchess

Her jaw dropped open, Amelia’s eyes flaring wide as if a coach were roaring down the road toward her, and she was caught in astonishment, frozen in place, and sure to be the victim of a collision.

“Your Grace,” she forced out, her own voice barely loud enough to cross the air between them, “I am doing no such thing. I have acted as the mistress of this house only, wishing to perform my duties to the utmost so that you might be finally at ease.”

Richard smirked at her, sliding her against him in a slither of movement that made her skin ripple over with gooseflesh. Hestill held her chin, with his other hand now flattened against the small of her back. Flames licked through her veins, an uncontrollable action that responded to the unstoppable force that was her husband.

“Such handsome words to form such an apparent bouncer.” He chuckled low beneath his breath, dropping his mouth toward Amelia’s ear. “I will remain grateful for the return of greenery to this restored room, darling. But I will require recompense for your impulsive attempt to get beneath my skin once more.”

Her pulse screamed in her ears, the swell of heat rising through her potent enough to set flame to her gown. Amelia had well been caught in her plot to annoy Richard once more. Still, if it were solely her disappointment and embarrassment assaulting her at present, she would not be so affected.

It was the soft brush of Richard’s lips against her skin, the way he gently nipped at the sensitive flesh beneath her ear, that warmed her like an inferno. It was the blossoming of desire within her that choked out any vexation or disappointment that had left her so jug-bitten.

She had wanted to push this all from her mind. Amelia had sought out a way to drag Richard into battle with her, one that she had mistakenly believed she would win.

To find herself now pressed against the sole object of her arousal—thoughts of his candid expression of sorrow for the loss of his mother and her prized space clouding up her brain—was a betrayal of her plan.

And Amelia could not find it within herself to care in the slightest.

“Delicious Amelia,” Richard hummed in her ear, “should you wish to draw out action from me, all you need do is ask.”

The unseen walls around her that kept Amelia back crumbled to dust, and she gasped a featherlight whimper before turning to face her husband with her eyes sealed shut. They were as one as they pursued the kiss that followed, and propriety be damned, she would have him right here and now as hers.

But a moment later, Richard was pulling himself back from her, leaving Amelia breathless and raging at the loss of contact.

“Say it, Amelia. Say the words that I have been at my wit’s end to hear.” He brushed his lips across hers, making Amelia whine. “Ask me for what you want.”

Trepidation nearly choked her, but Amelia was too far gone to the frenzy in her blood to stop now.

“Take me, Richard. Let me have all of you. Here. Now.” She looked down, sucking in a feverish breath that did little to calm her. “Please.”

Richard grinned—seductive and wicked.

“I do so love when you beg me for things.”

Chapter Thirteen

Stars erupted in the sky as Richard’s words cut to the core of Amelia’s being. His lips crashed down upon hers, claiming them so thoroughly as he’d done just the other evening. The cosmos itself could not contain the magnitude of overwhelming sensation that flooded through her, and at least for now, Amelia was done trying to fight it.

She was liquid in his arms as he held her to his chest, the rigid length that strained between them making her mind strain with the possibilities. Amelia had never been intimate with a man before, and yes, Richard was her husband, the one man she should allow herself to be with. Still, the nerves were hardly put at rest with the simple thought.

Consternation and arousal warred, a raucous battleground within her mind that forced any notion of a world beyond this room oceans away from her awareness.

“Honeyed ambrosia,” the words were muffled against her neck as Richard dragged kissed down the column of flesh, stopping on her pulse point, “nectar of the gods, Amelia. It’s been right here before me all this time.”

Sparks of lightning coursed through, making Amelia feel alive in a way she’d never experienced prior to Richard’s delicious torment. The now was all the better for it as well, these new and familiar sensations creating a heady cocktail that went straight to Amelia’s head.

“Richard, oh god, please. You mustn’t tease me more. I shall perish.”

He didn’t respond but to walk Amelia backward, taking them to a shadowy corner of the room where the newly acquired foliage created a curtain of privacy. It was as if they’d left London altogether, stolen themselves away to a private land where they might for once indulge their most hedonistic desires.

Lord, at night, right here in the conservatory? I’m a terrible cyprian.

But the care was not near strong enough to keep Amelia from allowing herself to be lowered down onto the ground, Richard smoothing himself between her thighs as he knelt above her.

“A bewitching woman of the fair folk. It must be what you are for all that you have done to me.”

Amelia reached up, taking Richard’s face in her hands and drawing him down to her lips. She was desperate to taste him, to feel his lips on hers for as long as this stolen moment would allow.

“Speak with your actions, Richard.” She kissed him, licking across the seam of his lips as he opened up before whispering against him again. “I cannot contain the fire in blood a moment longer.”

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