Page 60 of A Whisper of Desire
“I had not seen Violetta, his mistress, hidden in the shadows. The next minute, all I remember is a huge pain in the back of my skull, and then darkness.”
He focused on one of Marisa’s pearl drop earrings. He couldn’t bear to see her reaction to the next part of the story. His hands began to shake, and he gripped the mantelpiece.
“When I woke up…” He wiped his brow with his handkerchief. “When I woke up I was stretched naked across hay bales, with my arms over my head tied to the stall reins hook, and my feet were bound.” He heard her indrawn breath. “And Violetta was using her mouth on me with my father encouraging her.”
She gave a strangled cry and surged to her feet, racing to embrace him, but he held her back. “I tried to get her to stop—begged, in fact. However, my father told me I should thank her and that a real man would not complain.”
“Oh, my God, I feel sick,” Marisa said, but she stayed next to him, gripping the hand that held her back. He felt the sting of shame and his eyes filled, he couldn’t help it. “I tried to block the sensations, but I’d never had a woman take me in her mouth. I couldn’t believe that she could make me aroused while I was being so humiliated.” He choked back a sob. “I didn’t want it to happen.”
This time she pushed his arms aside and pulled him to her. She hugged him tightly, as if she were never going to let him go, and they quietly stood, sobbing in each other’s arms.
“You were but a boy, you must have been terribly frightened of all you were feeling and seeing and what was happening to you. Your response was not your fault. It does not make you a monster. You were a victim.”
“I have since learned that a man can get an erection without desire. I’ve often had no desire when I have been with a woman, but as soon as she intimately touches me…” He hugged her tighter. “But I ejaculated. I couldn’t help it.”
“But did you find pleasure in your release?” she asked softly. “When I’m with you, and I orgasm, the world lights up and I feel like I’m flying high above the clouds. I want to make love with you over and over again.”
When she saw the pain etched on his face, she almost wished she could take back her words. Perhaps she shouldn’t make him face what had been done to him. But now she understood the reason he became the Cold Duke. His life remained empty. He was too scared to engage with this world, to live a full life because of his fears. She had to show him that there was nothing wrong with him and that he deserved tolive!
That he deserved passion and love.
She heard his inhalation. She felt his chest still, his breath trapped inside. The beating of his heart; steady and true beneath her ear, began to race.
“Oh, my God. No,” he exclaimed in wonder. “No. I did not feel any joy. All I felt was shame and agony that she had forced that from me.” He breathed her name. “Thank you, Marisa. I found no pleasure in the act at all.”
“See, you had a physical release separated from your mind and will. You might have found release, but you certainly did not enjoy the act. It was not lust, or desire, that night. It was rape.”
She could feel his tears dropping onto her arm, and her tears flowed freely too. She hugged him tightly, whispering endearments.
They stood like this for several minutes until both of them quieted down. She turned without saying a word and led him to the bed, where they lay down, holding each other. He rested his head on her bosom and closed his eyes, wishing the past to the devil. At last he felt safe, here in her arms.
“Shh, I have you. Everything is all right now. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Her tears mingled with his as he lay in her innocent embrace, healing.
The full moon had begun to rise by the time they both stopped the flow of tears and lay facing each other on his bed.
He ran a finger down her cheek, tracing the path of her dried tears. No one had ever cried for him. “The reason I have tried to stay away from you is because I’d been petrified of turning into my father. I thought because I found my release that day, even though she was in point of fact molesting me, that I was twisted like my father.”
“Your father was ill; you are not.”
“I didn’t want to risk testing that theory. What if, because I enjoyed that debacle, meant I was twisted too?”
“You didn’t enjoy it, that is the point.” Marisa placed her hand on his heart. “You’re a good man. I know it. Sebastian must know it. He’d never have let us wed otherwise.” She frowned. “Is that where you were this morning? Talking to Sebastian?”
He nodded.
“That must have been excruciatingly embarrassing.”
“I did it for you. For us. Arend—”
“Arend. You spoke to Arend about our marriage?” Her horrified expression made him want to smile.
“Not really. But he said something that made me decide I’d been a coward for too long. I needed to learn who I am, what I am capable of.”
“What did Arend say?”
“That if I made it seem like I didn’t desire you, that you’d find someone to prove me wrong.”
“No. I would never do that.”
