Page 30 of Duke of Pride

“What you calltantrumsis my refusal to be governed by some righteous control freak who?—”

Suddenly, he was there, in her private space. Towering over her. Close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him, could see his throat bobbing as he swallowed down something violent.

“You sure lack discipline,Victoria.”

“You intend on disciplining me,Stephen? Because let me tell you?—”

“You got so much fire in you.”

Victoria was stunned. His voice carried the weight of an approaching storm, deep and ominous, rumbling in his chest before it even reached his lips. Victoria didn’t even bother to take cover as the air shifted around them.

One glance. Just a brief, fleeting glance at his lips. That was all it took. His hand caught her chin, his thumb dragging across the line of her jaw, a touch too firm to be tender, too light to be rough. He studied her eyes, then her lips, his eyes hooded, his breathingtoocontrolled. She, on the other hand, forgot to breathe, the air trapped in her lungs.

His other hand moved lower and settled on her hip. Not resting. Claiming. Fingers pressing, pulling her against him. Her treacherous body didn’t pull away; it swayed closer, melting into him. As she did, the world faded around them.

His grip tightened on her hip just enough to hold her still. He was now breathing hard. So was she, her chest heaving. For a moment, neither of them moved. Her eyes flicked to his, heat clashing with heat.

He was everywhere—his touch, his breath, the weight of his gaze dragging across her lips. His fingers flexed against her jaw, his other hand squeezing her hip, pulling her in until her skirts brushed against his thighs.

“Yes,” he purred, “so much fire.”

She barely had a second to breathe before his mouth crashed down onto hers, hot, demanding, merciless in its intent. Everything she had accused him of being—controlling, arrogant, insufferable—was now zeroed in on her. He pressed his lips to her lips, swallowing her protests, robbing her of air, stealing every coherent thought she had left.

Her hands, clenched into fists, found the lapels of his coat, gripping the fine fabric, twisting it, and yanking him closer.

“Victoria,” Stephen groaned, the deep, low sound reverberating in his chest, in her bones.

He moved, and her back hit the wall, neither of them breaking the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a maddening mixture of control and recklessness, as though he were both calculated and consumed.

He kissed like he did everything else—deliberate, intense, commanding. His lips were so soft, so full that Victoria couldn’t stop tasting them, trapping them with hers, taken by instinct. And when he bit her lower lip softly, she felt as if she were on fire, as if she were burning from the inside out.

“Oh!” she gasped.

His tongue slipped into her mouth, touching hers, exploring. Heat erupted in her chest, wild and unbidden, spreading through her limbs like wildfire, leaving nothing but him in its destructive wake.

She felt his hand on her face move, his fingers lightly wrapping around her neck, tipping her head back, giving him more access to her mouth. His body pressed against hers harder, impossibly close.

Victoria lost herself in the moment as she shoved her fingers in his hair. She arched into him, a silent plea for more. His response was to devour her. His tongue swept over hers in deep, languid strokes that made her entire body quiver. Again. Again. More. Deeper.

Then, his mouth left hers, but before she could even catch her breath, his breath was on her neck. His lips claimed it, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that made her whole body tense and then melt.

“Stephen!” she moaned.

He pulled back just slightly and looked into her eyes, still tangled in her skirts, his hand still wrapped around her neck. Victoria’s breath came in ragged, shallow gasps, her mind hazy, confused, still catching up. Stephen loomed over her, his shoulders heaving, his lips parted. His fingers still pressed lightly against the column of her throat, his thumb grazing her pulse.

Suddenly, he released her, and her body mourned the loss. He stood there for a moment, his azure eyes roaming over her face, his lids heavy. Then, he leaned in, just enough that she felt his breath ghost over her mouth, a cruel reminder of what they had just done.

“Do not ever”—his voice was a devastating growl—“push me like that again, girl.”

CHAPTER9

Invitations

The next morning, Victoria was getting ready for breakfast. Slowly, reluctantly, not prepared to go downstairs. Well, she was ready and quite hungry, but she wasn’t prepared to facehim.If she just stayed in her room, she would prevent more… things from happening in the rooms of this house.

They seemed to be collecting those with alarming frequency. The dressing room ‘incident,’ the library ‘episode,’ and now the drawing room… ‘affair.’ She had counted. There were forty-five rooms in the house.

Victoria slammed her brush onto the vanity table, scowling at her reflection. She studied her face, finding her lips swollen. She touched them softly with her fingertips, dragging them over the sensitive skin. Her eyes fluttered as the memory ofhislips on hers flooded her mind.

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