Page 43 of The Wrong Duke

“You know what I do.”

“Say it,” he demanded, refusing to go further.

She bit her lip, unable to voice the words.

“Say it.”

“Evan...”

“No, not that,” he smirked as he gently kissed her. “Say what you want me to do.”

“I want... I want...” For days now her mind had been drawn to that morning in the garden, a moment in time that she had gone back to again and again. “I want you to kiss me where you did in the garden. Between my thighs. On my... inside of me...Evan,” she breathed, feeling herself grow hot.

Once was never going to be enough, and the Duke was of the same mind. He licked his lips, spread her legs further apart, and disappeared beneath her dress.

For all the times she had tried to remember how his lips had felt between her thighs, it was nothing like the real thing. The way he licked her. The way he sucked. The sounds he made! It sent pulses through her body and made her spasm as if she was having a seizure. She grabbed him by the head, squeezed her thighs tight, pushed her pelvis forward, and looked to the ceiling as the world itself seemed to shake around her.

“Come here,” he said suddenly, pulling his lips free and sitting up.

“What?” she gasped, brought back into the moment because as soon as his lips left her, it was like being doused with cold water.

“I said...” The Duke leaned back, his legs spread apart, one hand quickly undoing his breeches as he met her eyes and licked his lips. “Come. Here.” He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into him.

Amelia wasn’t sure how she knew what to do. Perhaps it was instinct. Perhaps it was a lucky guess. Perhaps it was a similar feeling to what predators have in the wild when they know how to hunt their prey. An inborn sense of what to do and how to do it. She felt a companionship with her partner, as if she could read his mind. Whatever it was, as the Duke leaned back, breeches undone, bulge throbbing as if trying to escape, that hunger inside of her that had been building all day reaching new heights, and Amelia fell to her knees, shuffled herself in right between his legs, pulled out his engorged member, and wrapped her lips around it.

“Oh... my... God...” the Duke moaned, and his body went stiff.

Amelia’s tongue licked up and down his shaft. Her hand gripped it about the base. Her lips sucked and kissed and wrapped his girth. She had no idea what she was doing. She had no idea if it was right or good or proper. But in that moment, feeling the Duke’s breathing, listening to the sounds that he emitted, sensing the pleasure coming from her touch, she stroked and licked and sucked him as if she was born to it.

“Miss Baker...” he groaned.

“Call me Amelia,” she said through mouthfuls.

“All right... Amelia...” And the Duke fell on his back as Amelia leaned further forward and took him all the way down her throat.

There might have been a storm raging outside. The sky itself might have been falling. But in that moment, Ameilia worked her lips to the rhythm of his intense breathing, and none of it mattered. Lord Malnor? Her father? The weight of expectation? It melted, just as the Duke did in her mouth, and she knew that from this point on, there would be no point in trying to lie to herself anymore.

She belonged to the Duke, and he belonged to her. Consequences be damned.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

“We should talk.” They were the first words spoken in what felt like hours and as Evan had predicted before speaking them, they were entirely the wrong ones.

“Must we?” Miss Baker sighed.

“We must,” Evan said, making sure that Miss Baker could hear the regret in his voice. He didn’t want to do this now. Heck, he didn’t want to do it ever. But to wait would only make things harder... and far more confusing. “You know we must.”

“Can’t it wait.” She rolled over, wrapping her arm across his chest.

“Wait until when?” he chuckled because despite the conversation he knew they must have, his mood was perhaps the best it had ever been.

“Next year,” Amelia said as if she was serious, nuzzling herself into Evan’s chest. “Or next century. I’m in no rush.”

Evan couldn’t help but laugh. This was why he’d fallen for her the way he had. Strip away the rancor that so often colored their conversations. Forget the malice that they had one shared for each other as if they were mortal enemies. Leave behind all the fights and arguments the two had engaged in, and what was left was perhaps the most uniquely funny, strange, and highly original lady he’d ever met.

“I wish it was that easy.” Somehow, Evan pushed her arm away and forced himself to sit up. “But the storm has passed and...” He struggled to say it because that would mean that this little fantasy they were living in was broken and reality had returned. “And any moment now, they’re going to come looking for us.”

“Maybe they’ve forgotten,” she half pleaded. “It wouldn’t be the first time my father had forgotten I existed.”

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