Page 20 of A Duke, a Virgin and a Baby
Her mind, recently consumed by frustration and exhaustion, went utterly blank. It was in no way a gentle kiss, but rather a hard press of their mouths, an almost punishing assertion, an obvious attempt to silence her. And despite the underlying aggression, there was a strange, undeniable heat that ignited a foreign spark deep within her.
Her hands, which had been raised to push him away, faltered and hovered uselessly in the air between them. Julian pressed closer, working his mouth insistently over hers, and as his hand found purchase on her hip and another weaving through her neck, she shivered and clung to his shirt desperately. She could feel his lips tug into a smirk just as he deepened the kiss and slowed the pace from urgent to lazy, sending a dizzying wave through her.
He tasted like the scotch, his tongue burning hers with each stroke and lick, but she chased after the heat, her senses clogged by the scent of his manly musk. For a moment, she allowed herself to be mortified by how overwhelmed and intoxicated she was by his presence, his touch his taste, but forgot it all the next as she leaned closer, silently begging for more.
He must have felt her subtle surrender to his whim, because the hand which had been holding onto her hip slid across it, wrapping his arm around her waist. Before she could realize what he intended to do, she had been pulled forward and settled on his lap, her body flush against his. Anna’s hands anchored themselves on his neck, relishing in the feel of heat emanating from his skin.
The pressure of his hand at the small of her back was commanding and possessive, keeping her in place as he stole her breath, her thoughts, and her desire.
It was as if every contentious word, every angry accusation, every unspoken resentment that had festered between them simply dissolved, replaced by a searing, undeniable string of water. The world narrowed to the feel of his lips, the taste of his mouth, the dizzying awareness of his body pressed against hers.
A sharp, insistent rap on the dining hall door jolted them apart. The sound jarringly loud in the sudden silence, ripped through the sensual haze that had enveloped Anna, leaving her breathless and disoriented. Julian pulled back abruptly, his chest heaving, his eyes, dark and turbulent moments before,now held a flicker of surprise and something akin to self-reproach.
The maid’s voice, muffled but clear, pierced the lingering tension. “Your Grace? The cook has prepared a fresh meal for the Duchess, as ordered.”
Julian’s gaze, still dangerously dark, flickered from the door back to Anna, who was still frozen in his lap, her cheeks burning, her lips tingling from his unexpected assault. He quickly lifted her off of him and deposited her back on the chair she had been in, his face taking on a mask of aristocratic indifference.
“Stay put,” he ordered, his voice clipped and low, a stark contrast to the passionate growl that had left his throat when his tongue had fought hers for dominance. “And do not think of defying me again.”
He cleared his throat, the sound of a rough rasp, and turned on his heel. He was already halfway to the door when Anna, found her voice and asked as she pressed her trembling hands onto her thighs.
“Where are you going?” The question sounded impulsive and immature and she hated herself for it.
Julian paused his hand on the doorknob and turned his head slightly to look at her over his shoulder. His eyes, in the dim light, seemed to darken further, the blue almost black.
“Since you saw fit to leave me to dine alone tonight, Duchess,” he retorted, his voice laced with a cold, almost cruel satisfaction, “I shall return the favor. Consider it… apunishment.”
The word hung in the air, a chilling echo that sent a fresh shiver through Anna, this one entirely of cold realization. His eyes had truly darkened when he said it, a predatory glint she hadn't noticed before, and before she could wonder what it meant, he opened the door and took his leave.
Now alone in the dining hall, the lingering scent of his cologne mingling with the aroma of the freshly prepared food, Anna felt a strange mix of humiliation and an unsettlingly – longing. Her cheeks still burned, and her lips still throbbed with the ghost of his kiss. She had been so completely, utterly lost in it, a sensation so foreign and powerful it had stolen her common sense.
Ellen bustled in carrying a tray laden with a steaming bowl of broth, fresh bread, and a small dish of stewed fruit. The maid smiled kindly to her mistress as she quickly set the food before her, the edges dulling slightly as she noticed the vacant look in Anna’s eyes.
“Here you are, Your Grace,” Betsy mumbled, looking a little unsure of herself suddenly. “The cook made it special, just as His Grace requested.”
Anna merely nodded, her voice still caught in her throat. She found herself staring at the food, her stomach rumbling a protest at the long hours she’d gone without eating.
Julian might be infuriating, arrogant, and prone to alarming fits of temper, but he had ordered her a meal, recognizing her hunger even as he punished her with his absence. It was a bizarre, contradictory gesture that added another layer to the enigma that was the duke she had married.
“Are you all right, Your Grace? You look a tad flushed. Have you fallen ill?” Ellen asked, worriedly.
“No –” Anna cut off her words to clear her throat. “I-I’m fine. Just… tired.”
“Shall I prepare you a warm bath? To help you sleep after your meal?” Ellen offered sweetly.
“That sounds lovely, thank you.”
The maid curtsied and left the room quickly, the sudden solitude pushing Anna to do what she could to ignore it.
Obediently, she ate. The warm broth soothed her sore throat, and the simple, hearty food filled the gnawing emptiness in her stomach. She ate slowly, trying to gather her scattered thoughts, but her mind kept replaying the kiss, the unexpected heat, the almost desperate strength of him.
When she finished, Gretchen came to clear the tray and Anna asked,
“Where is Nicholas?”
“Asleep in the nursery, Your Grace. He has been resting soundly for about half an hour now. You needn’t worry about him, Your Grace. Regina is with him now and soon, I will go to watch over him as well. You can get some rest, Your Grace.” The maid responded with a small smile.
A weary sigh escaped Anna. “I will do just that. Thank you, Gretchen. You may retire.”
