Page 39 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

“I-I’m sorry, your Grace. That was completely out of line—I should have never interfered with your family’s business.” Thalia dipped her head low, bending down into an uncomfortably deep curtsy.

If she was lucky, he would forgive her for her insolence. He would allow her time to pack; the dignity of walking out of the estate on her own two feet instead of being escorted out like a common criminal.

She listened to the thud of his footsteps, his shoes appearing in her field of view. From the corner of her eye, Thalia could barely perceive movement from his arm, and her wrist ached terribly. She squeezed her eyes shut, awaiting the oncoming sting of a slap, the squeeze of a hand around her arm, her neck, her–

–chin.

His hand barely even held against it, a brush of fingers coaxing Thalia to tilt her head upward and stare into his eyes properly. His expression was unexpectedly soft, for someone handling a busybody troublemaker such as her.

If Thalia were feeling courageous—and she was uncertain if she had any courage left, at this point—she might have assumed the duke was quite close to tearing up. That he, perhaps, was feeling quite… quite…

“Vulnerable.”

Once more, she hardly registered the audibility of her comment. And, once more, the duke hardly seemed to notice her audacious remark. He seemed far more interested in peering well past the depths of her eyes, giving Thalia a chance to explore his own as well.

Dark, yes, but their complexity was noted for the first time. The duke’s eyes weren’t simply “dark”, but shades of umber mixed with sepia. They were wet sand dyed by midnight’s embrace, the oldest bark in an ancient grove, rough earth hewn, and speckled with flecks of gold.

Her hand brushed against his cheek, lingering far longer than she expected. His skin felt rough, the barest prickle of facial hair sending a tingle of nerves up the length of her arm.

The urge to lean in closer, to observe those eyes with everything she had, pulled Thalia’s face inward, their noses a hair’s breadth away. She was warm all over, acutely aware that the duke’s arm had settled around her waist at some point.

His hand slipped down her neck and pressed lightly between her shoulder blades. For all intents and purposes, he was holding her completely upright, her legs limp and useless beneath her body’s weight.

Something small kept her at a distance. Memories of her room that first evening, of their stolen kiss and the gut-wrenching shame that followed. It flooded the corners of her mind, freezing the last bit of her core as it tried to melt into the duke’s grasp entirely.

Her free hand lifted from her side, attempting to grasp some part of him, to push herself free and not place the man in a compromising position. It failed, of course, lingering against his shoulder as her other arm followed suit; she had secured herself around his neck, and briefly, she was in panic.

At least, until the duke caught her lips with a kiss of his own.

CHAPTER18

Finally. Finally, Gabriel held her within his grasp. She resisted at first, and expectedly so, frozen in place as he stalked across the library to take her down.

But the moment he coaxed her face upward, the moment he could fully engross himself within the brilliant gleam of those emerald-cut eyes, was the moment instinct took over.

His body moved of its own accord, slowly disabling her from any chance of fleeing from him, and as soon as her arms settled securely against his shoulders, he finally went in for the kill.

The kiss started slow and deep, his hands remaining securely around Thalia so she could fully enjoy it. It was a mere preview of what was to come; exploring territory, if he were to put it so crudely. Her taste was addictive, floral and oily from whatever paint remained stained on her skin.

He pulled free eventually, excitement trembling through his body as she inhaled deeply, then gasped sharply while he leaned across to nip her in the ear. A light, playful bite; nothing so egregious that he may scare her away just yet.

A groan slipped free from his throat as her nails dug into his back, and he took it as a sign to continue his exploration. From the line of her jaw down to the nape of her neck, Gabriel tenderly pressed his lips against her skin, resisting the urge to bite her there and then.

Her chest was far too exposed, far too publicly available; he wouldn’t mark her just yet. Not just yet. Not until she begged and pleaded, his sweet little rabbit.

Suddenly, her hands pressed against his face, and Thalia caught him in another dizzying kiss. His tongue snaked about, recoiling as Gabriel himself pulled away with a pained hiss.

A coppery tang coated his wounded tongue, and he couldn't help but raise a brow. She looked ready to apologize, but he stopped her with his lips, not wanting whatever trance they’d fallen into broken by spoken words.

Nipping prey was not something he ever expected himself to enjoy, and yet, he hoped feverishly she’d dare to take another bite out of him.

He lifted her towards the back of the room, hands drifting past her waist as he secured her firmly against a bookshelf. He found new purchase against her chest, now that she had something firmer against her back, and he slipped his fingers beneath her bodice, fingertips brushing lightly against her nipples.

Another gasp escaped Thalia’s lips, and her legs gave out beneath her, forcing Gabriel to hold her completely in his embrace. “My, my. That small amount wounds you so?” he crooned, kissing her exposed neck.

Thalia’s hands grasped at his arms, her nails digging as she continued to pant.

“Poor little rabbit. No one has treated you before, have they?” Gabriel couldn’t help but smirk, removing his hands so one could secure comfortably around her waist.

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