Page 31 of A Duchess to Unravel
“Because I do not want you to have a blister on your lips on our wedding day,” he remarked.
A crimson blush rose into Theo’s cheeks as she shot back, “Who said I was going to marry you?”
“You are an intelligent woman, Theo,” Alistair retorted, staring her down, “I should not have to explain to you why it is now necessary yet again.”
Realization flashed through her eyes, followed by a look of sadness, and she bowed her head.
“This is not … this is what I have always avoided. A marriage I have no choice in,” she whispered.
The defeat in her voice bothered Alistair more than he liked, and he grunted in agreement.
“I was never one to relish the idea of marriage, either,” he replied. “It is archaic, I believe, to force such a thing. One would think that being a noble would allow an exception to the blasted ideology, but alas, we are more obligated than most.”
His words hung heavily in the air between them. Alistair reached for her chin again. He was expecting her to yank away once more, but instead, Theo’s eyes pressed shut and she leaned into his touch, as if weary from it all.
“If we are both level-headed and realistic about this union, we could make it something mutually beneficial,” he murmured.
He caressed her cheek, trailed his fingers behind her ear, down to her throat. Again, just like in the garden, he could not help but give into the urge to wrap his hand there. Her neck was so graceful, so delicate, and it fit perfectly in his palm. He squeezed lightly and he was rewarded with a soft sigh that pleased him greatly.
Taking his chance, Alistair dipped his head as he pulled her toward him and sealed his lips to hers. Satisfaction exploded within him as Theo immediately melted into him. She parted her lips for him, allowing his tongue to coax and caress until it was intertwined with hers.
His hand moved from hers to her waist, and Theo dropped the crumbled threat that had brought her to him. Her palm was hot, sending currents through him as she placed it on his neck and urged him to kiss her deeper. A soft yet feral snarl rumbled in his throat at her touch, and Alistair responded by tightening his arm around her waist and caging her to his naked chest.
“Touch me,” he rasped, losing his self-control to need. Normally it was he that touched, that laid possessive hands. Now though, he needed to feel Theo’s touch.
A growl escaped his chest as Theo immediately obeyed. Both of her hands slipped down to his shoulders, her fingertips digging into his taut muscles. She dragged them down his arms, over the swell of his pectoral muscles, tracing fire everywhere she touched. Sweat erupted down the column of his spine as his manhood, already swollen and throbbing with need, lengthened to the point of pain in his breeches.
Theo gasped into his mouth as she felt it press into her, and she undulated against him. The small shift of her hips was enough to drive Alistair mad, and he ripped away from the kiss before he lost any more control. His hands trembled as he let go of her, and both of them swayed as they released panting breaths.
Alistair struggled a moment, overcome by how, once again, Theo’s kiss had taken hold of him. They did not know each other, nor did they like each other very much, but neither could deny the physical connection they so obviously had.
For a moment he fought with himself, a little embarrassed by how much of an affect she had on him. Then he smirked, putting on a mask of arrogant satisfaction.
“You must admit, having a husband who could kiss you like that would not be the most terrible thing,” he remarked.
The desire in Theo’s dazed eyes immediately snapped to dislike yet again, and she straightened. She wiped at her mouth, and it pleased Alistair greatly to see her hand tremble as she did so. She might be mad at him, but she was still aroused.
“You are an utterly vexing man, you know that?” She retorted, gathering her cloak tight around herself.
“Aye,” he agreed, “But I also hold the solution to your problem. So, what will it be?”
Her face twisted into a look of pure anger and for a brief moment, Alistair felt a wave of guilt. She hated this. Truly hated that she now had no choice. If she did, it was clear she would not choose him. Or anyone. Alistair did not know much about her, but he did know one thing: she wanted more than anything to be free. And the cage he offered her, though wider and more expansive than most, was still a cage.
“Fine,” she bit out, “To stop this man from threatening me, and nothing else, I will marry you.”
Alistair chuckled, hiding the surprising sting he felt at her words.
“Very well,” he said with a casual shrug. “I will call on your brother tomorrow. You had best run home now, Calypso.”
Theo’s body tensed at his dismissal, but instead of obeying him immediately, she took a step toward him and tilted her chin defiantly into the air.
“You better be gone in three months, Your Grace,” she warned. “You promised my freedom after that. And I will hold you to it.”
Alistair’s cocky smile dropped, and he stalked toward her. His predatory movements did nothing to wipe the anger from her face, but she did walk backwards until she bumped into his front door.
“Rest assured, little kitten,” he bit out, slapping his hand into the door above her head, “I could not stand more than three months with you either.”
Theo’s hands shot out to his chest, shoving him back. It wasn’t even forceful enough to sway him, but he obliged to backing up, and without another word, she opened the door and left.
