Page 34 of The Duke's Hellion

Sam forced himself to look up at Mimi. She must be feeling as awkward as him because she had a goofy grin on her face and she sent him a wink. Well, so long as she felt nothing, he could feel nothing. His lips loosened, not into a smile exactly, but at least not into a scowl any longer. He was pretty sure he had a nice resting face of contentment.

Mimi had taken about ten steps when Sally bellowed, “Stop!”

What the deuce was it this time?

Sally’s eyes were darting around the room until she found what she was looking for. With something white and fluffy in her hands, she skipped over to Mimi. Sally’s body was blocking Sam’s view, so he couldn’t see what the mad woman was doing. When she stepped away, his heart stopped for a second.

Mimi’s face was covered in a veil and her hands were holding her flowers. He couldn’t see her teasing smile anymore, but for some reason he didn’t sense that she was as playful as she had been moments ago.

Her gait had slowed and her feet moved with great intention. Toward him.

Inexplicably, his heart was struggling to pound out its normal rhythm. In its place, his pulse beat an erratic pattern.

When she stood in front of him, he reached out his hand and she took it. Standing before him, he studied her face through the veil. This was what nearly every man did. It was a milestone in a man’s life to get married. Nearly every man would search for, claim, and marry a wife. He would devote himself to her wellbeing, she to his, and they would unite their souls together before God. He had never once in his life considered doing that. He knew what love did to a man. Especially to the men of his family. He didn’t want the craziness, the dependency, the impulsiveness that came with love.

Yet, here…in these moments…watching Mimi walk toward him…he couldn’t shake the koala of emotions that was clinging to him as if he were a tree.

He needed to see her face. See what she was thinking.

He reached forward and lifted the veil.

His breathing stuttered as he looked into her eyes. The depths of her eyes led straight to her soul. She was a hellion. Nothing in life would be easy with her. But when she committed to something, she gave her all. What would it be like for her to give her all to him?

Her tongue dragged along her lower lip as she looked up at him under dark lashes. She was teasing him. Did she know it?

That plump lower lip of hers was begging to be sucked on. Her fingers were born to explore, and he wanted them to start on his body. He could picture her underneath him. Hell, he didn’tneed to picture it. He had experienced it. He had felt her pliable body beneath him, and he wanted to have those sensations again. With more permission.

His hands wanted to introduce her to pleasure. She was a virgin, and he still wanted to give her untold delight. He could feel his tongue growing thick, anticipating what she might taste like. Her legs would open wide for him and his light stubble would graze her inner thighs. He would spread her lower lips and suck from the fount that was her.

He wanted to plunge into her and touch her in places that no man ever had. He wanted to see her eyes fall shut and her mouth fall open when he made her come. Calling his name. Oh, she would scream his name multiple times before he would let up. And he knew she would be loud. He could read it in her eyes.

Once he had her begging for more, he would cease his ministrations until he heard her sobbing, felt her thrusting, for more. He wouldn’t let her off easily. The same way she never let anyone get away with anything. No, she would be his in the bedroom. Even if he had to tie her there. She needed someone to show her the realities of life, and he wanted to be the one to do it. The one. The one and only. And that was the most alarming part of his thoughts.

“Sam?” One whispered word from her shook all his visions loose. Unfortunately, that one word hadn’t caused them to disappear. No. They had been loosed, and now they wanted to run free.

This was trouble.

Chapter Fourteen

Later that evening,Mimi was still shaking from the intensity of Sam’s gaze during the rehearsal. It was if she could feel him inside of her, just from the look he had given her. She rubbed her legs together, the same move she had done at least once every minute since the ceremony. She ached there. She needed relief. But her heart was troubled.

If Sam could make her feel this way without doing anything, she was desperate to know how Roger could make her feel.

But every time she thought of Roger, the quickening in her heart slowed. And she didn’t want to feel the normal pace of her heart right now. She wanted Sam’s eyes grazing her body again. More than that. She wanted to feel him on top of her.

God, she needed relief. She had time before the evening’s events started. Quickly she made up her mind, ran to her door and locked it, then threw herself under her coverlet.

Her body was thrumming with need as she pressed her breasts into the mattress. The friction lit up her body with sparks. She pulled up her skirts and guided her hand down to her center. God, she was so wet. She had never felt so wet before. Her finger easily slid between her folds. Her slit throbbed in appreciation as her fingers played and glided. She was coiled so tightly that she knew she would find relief quickly. Her fingers tapped up to her pearl and started moving in circles.

She remembered his weight on her body. His arms wrapped around her, carrying her. Feeling the fullness of his chest. Eventhrough his layers, she could sense his strength. And then she came back to his smoldering eyes during the ceremony, watching her. Hungry for her, though she knew that was impossible. She didn’t care if it wasn’t true. She let his eyes call to her, reach through her, and pull her release from her. She muffled her cry in the mattress. Whether she called Sam’s name or God’s name, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t even want to think about it.

With limp arms and a breath ratcheting through her, she lay in her bed until she regained her equilibrium, but even after her breath had returned to normal, and her arms felt their usual weight, she wasn’t quite sure she had regained that elusive equanimity she desired.

A few hours later, standing in the drawing room, Mimi was irritated. At herself. At fate. At Sam. At Roger. Life. Love. The glass of ratafia in her hands. Anything and everything. But most importantly, she needed answers. She hadn’t gotten drunk (ahem—tipsy) since the night she suggested to her sisters that they do the duke dare in the first place. But tonight seemed as good a night as any for a repeat. No one would miss her with all the activities going on, so she slipped out of the room in search of some whiskey. Like any good man, she was pretty sure she could find some in Sally’s father’s library. Undoubtedly, a bottle would be hidden behind some books or in a cupboard.

Sure enough, within a minute of her search, Mimi found a bottle and poured a generous helping in her glass. She wasn’t sure if she was on cup three or four when Roger walked in, but it was about time.

She hiccupped. “About time you arrived.” Had she already said that? The curious expression on his face indicated confusion.

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