Page 55 of Bound to a Wicked Duke

The longer he followed her trail, the more his own words began to affect him. The thought Herbert Mowbray’s hands upon her body in any fashion was filling him with a desperate rage, and the moment he moved passed the group of lords and ladies walking by, he quickened his pace and made his way around the bend. He caught sight of the edge of Madeleine’s skirts just as she was darting between two large boxwood trees.

Not bothering to look if he was being watched or followed, Percy broke into a run. As he burst out onto the other side of the trees, though, he halted, taken aback by the more private, smaller garden before him. Eight fully bloomed, pink rose bushes were planted in tall, granite urns surrounding a large, three-tiered marble fountain with a statue of two intertwined lovers sat at the very top.

As alluring as he found it, though, Percy pulled his eyes away and was about to walk through the opposite wall of boxwoods when he heard a soft sob. Percy immediately moved toward the sound and found his Monkey sitting on the other side of the fountain, sobbing into her hands.

“Madeleine,” he breathed, going to his knees before her.

She jerked away from him, pulling her hands away from her face as she did so, and in that moment, he would have preferred that she had slapped him again. It was not anger in her eyes. It was fear.

“How dare you say such things to me,” she whispered through her sobs, shaking out her hands as if she’d just been burned. “How dare you put such imagery into my mind! You think I want that? For such a man to- to?—”

It was then that Percy realized something. He was revolted by the thought of Herbert touching her like that, but she was downright terrified. Andhehad been the one to put that terror into her. Madeleine began to shiver before him as her breathing grew more ragged, and he realized that he had went much too far.

“Madeleine, my darling, look at me,” Percy stated calmly. He had been acting as a spoiled boy; that was going to stop now.

Madeleine shivered harder before him, and when she did not look up, he reached for her hands with great tenderness. Not possessively, not out of frustration, but out of the affection he could no longer deny. Despite the warm summer air, her hands felt like ice as he took them into his own. Concern riled through him at the stark difference in temperature, but he remained calm and stroked his thumbs down each of her palms.

“Look at me, sweetheart, please,” he whispered. “I need to see your eyes.”

With effort, Madeleine lifted her head slowly, and what he saw had him choking down a ball of emotion. Hurt, betrayal, and worst of all, terror shone brightly back at him.

“You think I want that man touching me?” she asked, her voice trembling. “You think I yearn to be a plaything for him?”

“I know that is not what you want,” Percy replied quickly. “I was simply trying to illustrate what your future would look like if you did not choose someone else.”

“I know what my future shall look like without your illustrations,” she hiccuped. “And whether it shall be Herbert Mowbray or Mr. MacElroy, I will be disgusted when the time comes to forfeit my body because I do not want them.”

Unable to help himself, Percy lowered his head to her hands and started to place kisses along her fingertips, her palms, her wrists, and he felt a subtle shift in her as she began to calm down.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, wishing he could take it all back. Not just his harsh words from the moment before, but all of it. “I’m so sorry, Madeleine.”

He sensed her body curl toward him, and a moment later, he felt her forehead press against the back of his head. For a small span of time, they stayed that way, both of them silently mourning what they were about to lose.

Then Percy began to move, nuzzling his head against hers one subtle movement at a time until her forehead came rest upon his. His hands then left hers, and he framed them around her face, touching his lips to first her temple, then her cheek, then her nose.

A whimper slid from Madeleine’s throat as he brushed his lips against hers, and he felt the rest of her tension melt away. Her arms then came around his neck, as if urging him for more, and he slipped his hands from her face to her waist as he deepened the kiss.

Pleasure soared through him as he swept his tongue over hers, and as he pulled her gently away from her seat, she went with him willingly into his lap. The moment she did, he reveled in the way her weight felt atop him—how it engulfed with warmth—and he gripped the edge of her skirts. He broke the kiss only long enough to look into her eyes with his silent plea, and when she gave him a willing nod, he could not help the small, choked groan as he let his hand disappear beneath the fabric.

Percy reclaimed her lips, continuing to pleasure her with his fingers as her sobs transformed into a soft sounds of pleasure. He kissed his way down her throat to the bit of cleavage exposed by her dress. Here he paused and paid the top of each rounded globe due homage. Once he had kissed every inch of exposed flesh, he pulled down the front of her dress to expose the tight little nipples that adorned them.

“Percy?” Madeleine asked uncertainly.

“Trust me,” he whispered as he reached out to flick one and then the other with his tongue. Gooseflesh instantly formed on her skin as the nipples responded to his touch. Madeleine let out a small sound that encouraged him to continue. Taking a nipple into his mouth, he suckled, lavishing it with all of the attention that he wished to give her entire body. He then did the same for the other.

“Percy!” Madeleine’s voice had taken on an urgent, almost panicked need. “Please, Percy! I need you!” She clawed at his back, her body needing more. “I need you now!”

Her desire was nearly his undoing, but he would not ruin her. He could not allow himself to go further and rob her of her virtue. Instead, he poured all of his own needs into her pleasure as his fingers increased the friction between her legs. His fingers were laden with her nether dew, signaling that she was close to reaching her end.

When she fell over the edge of blissful oblivion, she cried out his name as if in a prayer to God. She clung to him, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, her breathing labored, her mouth open in ecstasy. For a moment, she stayed there, as if her body could not yet move, and then in a heavy exhale, she relaxed back into him, her forehead once more resting on his. It was the most beautiful thing that Percy had ever seen. He nearly lost himself right then and there from the sight of it.

When she opened her eyes, she looked deep into his, and what he saw there nearly broke him. “Percy, I…”

Percy shook his head in denial of what he feared she was about to say. Withdrawing his hand from between her legs, he lifted her from his lap, placing her back on the edge of the fountain. In truth, his arousal doubled as he felt his biceps contract and swell, loving the effort put forth. Madeleine was not just someone he or anyone could toss around; she was the physical embodiment of warm and soft. He was not sure he would ever be able to touch a smaller woman again.

“Marry Hamish MacElroy,” he commanded as he got to his feet though his voice came out hoarse and defeated.

It was the best choice. Her only choice if he could have anything to do with it. The others would push and prod and force, but Hamish would not. He could, at the very least, give her the respect of her own body.

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