Page 38 of The Phantom Duke
“Then, you have quite the talent. To put on such a show without meaning to. What might you do when you are conscious of your actions?”
Maria’s lips twitched in what might’ve been a smile, though she wasn’t sure why. His words felt more like a taunt than a compliment. She bristled, unsure if she ought to be flattered or furious. Was he truly suggesting she’d ‘performed’ to tempt him? That she knew what she was doing?
“Is that why you’re here? To taunt me and?—”
“You rendered me helpless,” he cut in. “And I don’t like it. I am not used to feeling this way.”
Helpless? Him? The Phantom?—
No, not the Phantom.
Damien, my husband.
And to her shock, Maria realized he felt it too. That same helplessness.
When she opened her mouth to say something, he kissed her. The contact was so sudden and shocking that all her thoughts scattered, making it difficult to summon a rebuttal or refusal. It snatched the breath from her, as he kissed her with bruising force.
Instinctively, as his arms went around her, she pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him back, except he didn’t move. It was like pushing a cliff, and Maria could not have even said if she wanted him to move. His strength appalled and excited her.
If he did not wish to release her, then there was nothing she could do to release herself. If she wanted, she could tell herself that. His tongue, warm and wet, brushed against her lips. She gasped, and then, his tongue wasin her mouth.
The sensation was so strange that it shook her to her core. She curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, holding on as if her life depended on it, while he ravaged her mouth.
Damien’s hands swept downward, squeezing her buttocks. She cried out in surprise, the sound muffled by his mouth against her own. He squeezed harder, and her core pulsed with hot need. Maria’s hips jolted reflexively forward. Something hard pressedagainst her stomach, and it took her a heartbeat to recognize it as his manhood.
He swept his hands down further still, gripping the back of her thighs and prying them apart. Damien broke the kiss, and a high-pitched whine of need sprung from between Maria’s lips. She panted for air, as he stroked the inside of her thighs, his touch like a branding through the thin material.
“Is this what you were hoping for when you displayed yourself like a common jade?” Damien asked.
“How dare you?” Maria cried, her breath coming in shudders.
The place between her legs was hot and wet, her body coming to life all the more from the degrading question. She would think more through the implications of that later, preferably when he was gone.
Maria flattened her palms against his chest and pushed once more, desperate to maintain some measure of pride.
“How dare I?” he asked. “You seem to be rather enjoying the experience.”
Without warning, he cupped her breasts, and she jolted forward. Damien pinched her nipples through her gown, and her back arched. Maria moaned as his loins pressed against hers and a wave of pleasure ran through her.
“Look at how ready you are,” he murmured. “How much you enjoy my touch.”
She wrapped her arms about his neck, fingers entwining in his mane of dark hair. His tongue touched her lips, and she responded by biting down on his lower lip. It brought a sharp intake of breath from him that made delight explode within her. The knowledge that he drew as much pleasure from her as she did from him was a headier brew than any wine.
Damien pinched her nipples against and rolled them between his fingers. Maria deepened the kiss, as her core ached with want. And then?—
A sudden twinge of pain lanced up her leg from her ankle. She cried out, breaking the kiss and awkwardly reaching for her ankle.
“Does it still pain you?”
“The wine helps, I must say, but occasionally, yes,” Maria said, sitting down on the bed.
She was hot and flustered, and as she bent over to inspect her ankle, Maria realized that the nightgown opened just enough for her to see her pink nipples, aching for Damien’s touch once more.
Damien knelt before her and took her ankle in surprisingly gentle fingers. There was no pain as he examined the injury.
“Healing nicely,” he said, his fingers moving to her bare, stockingless foot and beginning to gently knead the sole.
“You are a physician now…” Maria managed to say before the sensation from his deft fingers reached her.
