Page 91 of The Duchess in His Bed
Blink.
She cradled the jaw she had once peppered in kisses—when she was younger, more svelte, when he found her attractive. Before he’d begun bringing other women, other mistresses, into his bed within this chamber, knowing she could hear them through the wall, screaming out his name. He required that benediction. His name on their tongue at the moment of their release. She’d granted him the same favor a thousand times, even when the ultimate pleasure had eluded her. “The three bastards I placed in your arms, the ones you would not allow me to keep, they were your blood. You do know that, don’t you?”
Blink.
Leaning down, she placed a kiss on his forehead, one on his temple, the last near the shell of his ear. “The heir I gave you... was not.”
It was a lie, of course, but it would torment him, occupy his thoughts as he lay there with an active mind but an inactive body. With a self-satisfied smile, she rose from the bed and looked down on him.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
A strangling, gurgling sound in his throat.
“Careful now, darling,” she warned calmly. “You don’t want to have another apoplectic fit, surely.”
Lovingly, she brought up the covers, tucked them in around him. “Now if you will be so good as to excuse my rudeness, I must leave you as my lover awaits.”
Then ignoring his warbling of distress, she strolled from the room, her head held high, feeling her strength returning in full force. In her bedchamber, she tookSense and Sensibilityfrom her night table, curled up in a chair, and turned to the page marked with a blue ribbon. Over the years, she’d had dozens of lovers, all found within the pages of novels. Her favorite was Colonel Brandon, and it was he who would keep her company this night.
But in the future, who knew? Perhaps she’d take on a real lover. Here, within this bedchamber, where her husband could hear her cries of pleasure. Ah, yes, she would torment him as he’d tormented her.
She would even visit Aiden’s club, enjoy all the vices he offered. No longer would she live in fear of displeasing her husband, of displeasing any man. She would seek and find the happiness and joy that had eluded her for a good portion of her life.
Selena wasn’t surprised when the door to her bedchamber quietly opened a little after midnight and Aiden wandered in, closing and locking it behind him. Setting aside the book she’d been reading, she was grateful that he’d come to her, had hoped he would.
Confronting his father—his sire—had to have created an emotional turmoil within him.
Tossing off the covers, she slipped out of the bed, meeting him halfway, closing her arms around him as his circled her, holding her near. His sigh was long, drawn out, and she could feel the tension easing out of him.
“I have whisky,” she whispered. She’d brought up a bottle and a glass, just in case he came to her.
“All I need is you.”
His words humbling her, her heart squeezed as tightly as her eyes. Lifting her mouth to him, she waited as he lowered his to hers. No fire, no passion, only want and intense need. She could comfort him now as she’d wanted to from the moment Lady Elverton had revealed who she was. In spite of Aiden telling Selena that things were over between them, she did not have it within her to ever turn him away. Their discussion last night had escalated beyond her control, and in spite of harsh words uttered, still she’d known he could come to her. Still she’d been willing to welcome him.
Not releasing her hold on him, she guided them backward until her bottom hit the mattress. Easing away slightly, she cradled his beloved face between her hands, seeing in his countenance all three of his parents. The Earl and Countess of Elverton were responsible for the hills, valleys, and dips, the strong jaw, the sharp nose, the lush mouth, the shade of his eyes. But Ettie Trewlove had shaped the soul those eyes reflected, the smile that came so easily, the laugh that had first sung to her own soul. The physical features were nothing without the light that shone within him. Yes, there was a darkness to it, but it wasn’t powerful enough to put out the flame, only to reshape it and make him more complicated and faceted.
Lowering her hands, she slid them beneath his jacket and shoved it over his shoulders, down his arms until it fell to the floor. His cravat went next, followed by his waistcoat. He didn’t move, only aided her in the divesting of his clothing. She wondered if he was in shock from what had happened with his father or if he was uncertain regarding how she might welcome him.
When he was nude before her, she unbuttoned her nightdress and shimmied out of it before taking his hand, climbing onto the bed, and urging him to follow.
Only one night had passed without their coming together, and already it had begun to feel an eternity. As his body covered hers, her moan was low, appreciative, grateful. The feel of him was everything.
His taking of her was slow and sensual, his kisses and touches alighting upon every inch of her skin as though he was memorizing every hollow, every ridge. As though he were well aware that this time would be the last, and he wanted it unrushed, wanted it emblazoned on his soul to carry with him as one might a well-worn miniature portrait. To be looked upon and savored.
And she returned the favor, touching all she could reach, pressing her mouth to his throat and shoulders, scraping her fingers over his back, skimming her soles along his calves.
When he plunged deeply, she was more than ready. Rising up, hovering over her, holding her gaze, he moved languorously in and out, as though they had the entire night, as though he didn’t need to sneak out before the servants were up and moving about.
So much needed to be said. So much needed to be held in.
Lifting herself up, she licked at the hollow of his throat where dew gathered, took satisfaction in his low growl. Lowering herself, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, tightening her hold, pumping her hips in rhythm with his, as sensations built and everything within her cried out for him.
She thought she could contain the fire forming inside her, but when it broke free and engulfed her, he blanketed her mouth with his, capturing her scream as she absorbed his groan, their bodies stiffening and jerking in tandem as pleasure conquered them both.
Replete and exhausted, he lay on his back with Selena nestled against his side, her finger drawing lazy circles on his chest. He shouldn’t have come, but he’d been unable to stay away.
He’d needed her as the earth needed the sun and the night sky needed the stars.
