Page 54 of The Wrong Duke

“My father is desperate for me to marry him. He will stop at nothing.”

“But it won’t work. Lord Malnor —”

“Is not as cold to me as you think,” she cut him off. “Despite your... aggressive nature,” she chuckled to which he laughed also, “he has taken a fancy to me. Ironically, you’re being here to stop me tonight might have saved us. Tomorrow, my father will just think up a new scheme. He won’t stop.”

“David?” The Duke pulled back, and his grip lessened around her wrists. She tried to shift to bring him closer, desperate now for the feel of him against her, but he refused. “He is? How do you mean?”

She sighed. What did it even matter? Alone with the Duke. Held down by his body as he pressed against and entwined her. A mere action away from picking up where they left things in the cabin, and she found that she could not bring herself to excitement. At the end of the day, it was Lord Malnor who she would be with. Anything that might happen now would only hurt her in the long run.

“This dress,” she said despondently. “Lord Malnor had it made for me in secret. I did not ask him, I swear it. I didn’t even know. But he saw me eyeing the material the other day, and without any suggestion from my parents, he went out of his way to have it made especially for me. If that isn’t a sign that he is at least interested in me, then I don’t know what — Why are you laughing?”

And he was too. Soft chuckles, she could feel his body shaking atop her. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“The dress you wear, Miss Baker. Lord Malnor didn’t have it commissioned.”

“He — he didn’t?” she stammered, another lump appearing in her throat as she dared to consider what he was about to say.

“No, he didn’t.” A beat and his grip tightened on her wrists, his body wrapped further around her, and his lips came to within mere millimeters of her own. “I did.”

“But why?”

“If you haven’t guessed that by now, then perhaps I made a mistake coming to this room tonight.”

Amelia had known that the Duke had feelings for her. That was obvious. But as to what these feelings were? Amorous desires? Lustful intent? A certain level of arousal that they had both taken advantage of on more than a few occasions. And sure, she had wondered if there might be more there, but that was merely a dream and a hope because as the Duke had told her to her face, he wasn’t the type to fall in love.

She was still wearing the dress, only now she wished that she wasn’t. The light cotton suddenly felt heavy on her, suffocating, and she wanted nothing more than for him to tear it from her body. And it was no longer hunger that drove this feeling. It wasn’t a need to feel his lips all over her because she couldn’t contain herself. She wanted the Duke because he wanted her, because he cared for her, because... because he loved her. And she loved him.

Without needing to say another word, Amelia moved her lips a fraction of an inch, kissing the Duke fully on the lips and as expected, he kissed her back.

“Wait.” The Duke pulled back suddenly.

“Wh – what?” Amelia stammered, half-leaning forward as if to try and follow his lips.

“Before we...” He half-smiled. “I need to ask you. Do you trust me?”

Amelia frowned, caught off guard by the suddenness of the question. “Trust you? What do you mean?”

“I won’t let your father do this to you.”

“I told you, I don’t have a choice. There is nothing I can do to stop —”

“Do you trust me?” he cut her off, looking into her eyes with a steely determination that told her exactly what he meant.

“What are you going to do?” she swallowed.

“Do you trust me?” he said again.

There was no question about it. She didn’t know what the Duke was thinking. She couldn’t guess what he might do. But she knew right then as well as she’d ever know anything that she trusted him with all her heart. “I do.”

And that was all the duke needed to hear.

His hands left her wrists and moved to her body. They grabbed her side and held her down as his mouth devoured her. Her legs, already open, wrapped about his waist and pulled him in as close as she could, and he let her, welcomed her, lifted her into him as he continued to kiss and lick and savage her like a starving man being offered food for the first time.

Down her neck, his lips moved swiftly. Soft kisses turned hasty and wet. Over her collarbone, toward her breasts, he was rushed and hasty, as if he couldn’t contain himself and wanted to taste every inch as quickly as he could for fear he might miss out. She grabbed a hold of his head, leaned back, closed her eyes, and moaned to the feel of his lips on her skin. And his hands too. And his body. All of him, all over her, she didn’t know what to concentrate on, so she let herself go completely.

The dress was torn from her body. The Duke’s shirt came off and was thrown across the floor. A slither of light crossed his face, caught his eyes, and she could see the desire in them as he bore down upon her, drinking her in and marveling in her beauty. But there was something else there. More than the usual arousal that she knew so well. The look he fixed her with was passion personified. A level of want that told her they were on the same page, and there would be no leaving it. This, she knew, was a night she would never forget.

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