Page 37 of A Duke for Hire

Head spinning with desire, body quivering with a newfound need, Seraphina looked into Hugo’s eyes.

“Yes,” she whispered, letting her body melt into his, “Show me.”

A heady groan slipped from Hugo’s lips as he felt Seraphina let go of her societal expectations and placed her submission intohis hands. He tampered down his own need, knowing he needed to take things slow, and cradled her to his chest as he finally kissed her fully.

A sliver of pain shot through his heart as he briefly tasted the salt of her tears upon his lips. He did not know for sure if he was the reason she had shed them but it weighed heavy on him that they had fallen at all. In a way, he knew that she was right. That their chances of being married were practically nonexistent…and yet, he could not give up.

He did not love her. He doubted he could ever love anyone, even Leah. But he knew with his entire body that he wanted her.

A soft gasp slipped from Seraphina’s lips as he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue part the pillowy borders of her mouth. Another rush of arousal hit him as he drew in her taste. He felt Seraphina tremble in his arms as he laid his possessive claim, and stars burst before his eyes as her arms came up around his neck to wind tightly there.

He pressed her closer to him, wanting no space between them, and with ease, lifted her. She gasped his name softly as her feet disappeared from under her, and with great tenderness, he laid her among the pillows of the chaise. Slowly, she began to kiss him back, her tentative workings growing bolder and more skilled as he pressed his weight down upon her, and soon, he felt her fingertips slide into his thick, black hair.

Pleasure fluttered through him as he felt the gentle scraping of her nails against his skull, and in that moment, the world fellaway. He kissed her lips, her cheek, then down to the graceful line of her jaw. He moaned in approval as she tilted her head backward, awarding more access, and for the briefest of moments he let himself lose control and sink his teeth into her neck. Seraphina gasped and shivered beneath him at the small claim, and though he felt the urge to mark her, he pulled away just before it was too much.

The gown she wore was modest, a light blue silk that cut in an even horizontal line just above her cleavage. Even still, he was able to wrest the tight fabric and corset just enough to release her breasts, and he quickly enveloped her small, taut, pink nipple with his mouth. She moaned again, clutching at his hair even tighter, and though he knew he should, Hugo found himself unable to stop.

Stars burst behind Seraphina’s eyes as she felt Hugo’s hot, wet mouth at her breast, and she blushed as she arched her back and pressed more of herself into his mouth. She had thought his kiss dizzying but this was making her entire body feel as if it were spinning somewhere out in the universe.

She should stop him. She knew she should. This was too far and though her mother was not home, the servants were. They could walk in at any time.

Instead, though, she found herself pressing her lips together to stop the moan in her throat, and gave her control over to him. Her entire being felt as if it were transforming into warm liquidas Hugo continued, and she didn’t want to return to the cold again.

On his kisses went, from first her left breast then her right, then down the front of her dress. It was her favorite day gown, and yet in the moment she wanted nothing more than for it to be torn into shreds and away from her body by Hugo’s hands.

His hands.

So soft yet rough as they reached beneath her skirts to caress and grasp her thighs and backside. They hypnotized her. Fire licked wherever his fingertips met her flesh, sending delicious flicks of desire through every nerve ending sparking inside of her.

Care, any sort, drifted away from her mind entirely as Hugo shoved her skirts up to her waist and his head dipped down. His lips began to trail up her inner thighs and she needed no more instruction than that to part her legs wider for him, her body seemed to understand exactly what she- andhedesired.

“Hugo,” she breathed, his first name spilling from her lips for the first time as his tongue swirled over her pulsing mons.

A growl poured from Hugo’s throat as his eyes shot up to hers, brimming with fiery light.

“Say it again,” he commanded.

“Hugo,” she obeyed blindly, feeling herself give into him.

A hungry smile formed on his lips, and as he kept his eyes locked on hers, he lowered his head again, and grazed the tip of his tongue over the taut, sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. Pleasure shot through her veins, more powerful than before, and her lashes fluttered as she arched herself once more toward his mouth.

On and on his tongue continued, coating her in pleasure until her relaxed body slowly began to pull taut again. This time, though, it was not stress, and it did not shoot down her spine like a rigid spear. Instead it was as if tiny, invisible threads had been cast from her womb and were slowly drawing her tendons tight, making her tremble. A great gathering of sorts began to pull her arms and legs back toward her body, drawing her tight like corset strings.

Then, when she thought she could not take anymore and was a breath away from begging Hugo to stop- they snapped. Every string snapped at once as a great wave of relief and pleasure coursed through her body.

Hugo lapped greedily, wanting the taste of her climax on his tongue more than he wanted air to breathe. Seraphina had submitted to him so readily that he was reveling in the beauty of it. She wanted him, there was no doubt about it. The truth was in the way she said his name. The way her body still convulsed and trembled from the pleasure he’d given her

In his trousers, his hardened manhood pressed uncomfortably against the restraining fabric. He wanted so badly to pull himself free and find his own pleasure, but something held him back.

“I was wrong,” he murmured, slowly rising up from between her legs.

Seraphina’s eyes, still blurry with pleasure, looked at him in silent questioning as he readjusted her skirts.

“It seems you don’t have to act perfect,” he explained. “You truly are.”

“Your Grace, I-”

“I quite prefer it when you call me Hugo, actually,” he said before she could say more. “You should get used to saying it anyway. When we are married, there will be no use for formalities between us.”

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