Summoner of Sins (The Duke Fraternity #3)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Sophie stared down at Max. Since he held her, her face was just above his, but with her feet dangling down, she felt rather small. Then there was the fact that every thought had left her head, leaving her to stutter like a child. She watched Max’s face change. The hope that had been there just a moment before soured and turned black. She squeezed around his neck, opening her mouth to share her heart with him.

But that’s when Ironheart reached the landing. “Tell her that thing about the sun and then night.”

“Sh-sh-shut up,” Max said, stuttering.

He had not hesitated in his speech at all recently and she knew she’d somehow hurt him. Did he think she was rejecting him? Of course, he did. She never imagined he’d propose now. Yes, he’d told her had feelings, and he’d given her money. But somehow there was confusion.

“Max,” she said and then rubbed her nose against the tip of his. “Do you truly mean it? You’d marry me?”

He remained like marble, not softening a bit. “I asked, didn’t I?”

She’d hurt him. She’d have to be more careful because he had deep wounds that would take time to heal. Closing her eyes, she kissed him again. He didn’t kiss back, but he didn’t pull away either. “It’s just…I am rather troublesome and needy.”

By small increments, he relaxed. Running a hand through his hair, she said “Part of me thinks I ought to say no because…” She felt him tense again. “Because I think you might grow to resent me.”

“Sophie,” he said. “I am the sort of man who can hold the weight of your world. I don’t know a great deal, but of that I am certain.”

“There you go again, spouting poetry,” Ironheart called over his shoulder as he started up to the second floor. “Who knew the man who excelled at silence had a poet’s heart?”

“I said shut up, Ironheart.”

“Is that any way to talk to a man in his home?” Ironheart chuckled despite his words, continuing up the stairs. “I trust you’ll have a magical evening.”

Max didn’t respond, his gaze holding hers. “I’ll still protect you, even if you say no. I’d never let him hurt you, I?—”

“Max,” she said and then she kissed his again, a light touch of her lips that held all her intentions. “I know you’ll protect me. You are the finest man I’ve ever met.”

“Fine?” he said, grimacing.

Did he want to be something else? “Handsome. Brave.” She kissed him a third time, her eyes fluttering closed.

His fingers spread out on her back, his mouth moving with hers.

“I don’t think I’m worthy,” she whispered into his mouth.

“I disagree.”

“All right then, I accept, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She smiled, intending the words, at least in part, as a joke.

Max scowled at her. “Do not speak of my wife that way. She is the finest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Fine?” She wrinkled her nose. “You’re right. It’s a terrible word to use to describe the person you love.”

He smiled back. “Sophie. I’ve never had a family. Not a real one. I’m counting on you to teach me how this all works.”

Her eyes widened in surprise because this notion had never occurred to her.

“I’ve watched you twist yourself into knots trying to provide for your sister. You fight for her the way no one has ever fought for me.”

He kissed her again, his tongue dipping between her lips. She kissed him back, the desire between them flaring red hot as he carried her up the stairs.

She only pulled back long enough to tell him, “Abigail is asleep in my bed.”

He stopped in front of her door, setting her lightly on her feet. “That’s all right, I should leave you to return to her.”

She stared up at him. It was her turn to be offended. They’d agreed to marry. Her body was aching with need. “Max. No. I want?—”

“I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or the next day. I won’t compromise you, Sophie. Not until we’re legally wed.”

She frowned then. “You’re right. We don’t know what will happen tomorrow or the next day. And if we were to only have tonight, I would spend that time in your arms.”

For one second, indecision flashed in his eyes, and then he picked her up again. He carried her one door further down the hall to his room. Opening the door, he set her down and then crossed the room, softly opening the connecting door between his room and hers. “In case Abigail wakes up,” he whispered, crossing back to her side.

She opened her arms and wrapped them around his neck. They kissed again, their mouths sliding together as one kiss blended into another. His hands came to the opening of her housecoat. He parted its heavy folds, the thick fabric sliding to the floor. He stepped back, his jacket and cravat landing in the pile of discarded garments. Bending down, she unbuckled his boots.

Silently, he sat on the bed, and she helped to pull them both off. Kissing him was fire, but the intimacy of helping him undress was…magic. Her hands slid back up the muscles of his legs, his breeches highlighting the thickness and strength he possessed.

He looked down at her, his jaw locked in hard lines. “Sophie.”

“You’re so strong,” she murmured with a sigh. “I love the way you feel.”

“Sophie.” He growled, his voice rough with…something she couldn’t name. Her body seemed to understand as he pulled her up, his mouth crashing into hers a moment before they rolled to the side.

Her chemise rode up her legs, their bodies pressed together. He felt even better beneath her fingers with several layers of his clothing removed. Their arms and legs twined together as he kissed along her jaw, down her neck, and back up under her ear.

She could feel the evidence of his passion, pressing to the intimate spot between her thighs. It only made her ache more. Hooking one of her legs over his hips, she pulled him even closer, hoping to ease the hectic need building inside her.

He groaned into her ear. “You’re going to break me.”

What did that mean? She didn’t exactly know, but it sounded wonderful. “Oh. Yes, please,” she gasped out, clutching him tighter. “I think I’d like to break too.”

In answer, his hand came to her bare calf and slid up her leg, over her knee, and inside her thigh. Finally, he cupped the silky flesh at her apex.

Her whole body shuddered in response, and she just knew…Max was her forever. Crying out, she bucked into his hand. This felt better than she ever could have imagined, and she wanted more.

* * *

The silky folds of Sophie’s sex were slick with her desire as he ran his middle finger over her. It had been a hellishly long time since Max had touched any woman. His experience was limited at best, having found his few experiences with women to be full of temporary pleasure, but they were ultimately hurtful.

This was different in every way. Sophie knew exactly who he was, knew his weaknesses and his hurts, and she wanted him anyway. She found him worthwhile. His emotional attachment heightened his pleasure in ways he didn’t expect, and his body thrummed with the need to claim her. Instead, he settled the pad of his finger over her nub of pleasure, feeling the shiver that passed through her. He circled the spot, her body tightening and her thighs trembling as she gasped in his ear.

“Oh, Max.”

He smiled into her skin, applying slightly more pressure as he worked her flesh. She softly moaned in his ear, her hips chasing the pleasure. Deep satisfaction rumbled through him. He wanted his satisfaction but hers…it made him feel like a man to know that she wanted him, that he brought her pleasure.

She gripped his shoulders, her fingers pushing into his flesh, her body growing tight, her leg locked around his hips, pushing him deeper into the cradle of her body. He only worked her faster, knowing her finish was close.

And then she broke, her cry filling the room.

He smiled, not stopping, but lightly shushing her. “Hush, sweetheart. We mustn’t wake Abigail.”

“I know,” she half sobbed in his ear, her body slowing. “It was just so…”

“I’m glad.” He kissed her then, slow, and unhurried as she clung to him. His pleasure was of less concern than hers, as he enjoyed her softness. She relaxed onto her back, and he followed, half laying on top of her as he ran his hand up her side, tracing her waist and rib cage. She ran a hand up his back, urging him closer.

“Why is Ironheart going to the Archbishop?”

He lifted up. “I told you. I want to give you the protection of my name. My family.”

She looked at him then, studying him in the dark. “Did something happen?”

How did she know him so well? “Whitehouse is very powerful. I think it best not to underestimate him.”

She nipped at her lip. “So, you’re going to the archbishop so that?—”

“We can marry tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” she gasped, half sitting up. “That soon?”

His gut churned again. He half expected Sophie to change her mind. “We can wait if you need more time to d-decide.”

“No, Max, stop. This isn’t about my feelings for you, I’m asking about the seriousness of the situation.”

He relaxed again. Did she understand how tentative he was in this regard? He’d rather fight all fifty of Whitehouse’s men than have Sophie tell him that she didn’t wish to be his wife. “It’s just a precaution.”

He kissed her again, because, every time she soothed his fear, he had this need to touch her, be close to her. Did she know that she was putting his heart back together? He slid on top of her, her legs naturally parting for him. Her feet and calves locked about his as she kissed him, her hands sliding up and down his back. He propped up on his elbows, holding her head in his hands as he returned the kiss, his thoughts quieting as his need pulsed through him.

Max thrust against her, his cock aching in his breeches. As her tongue tangled with his, her body soft and warm underneath him, he could feel his orgasm building. He wanted to be inside her, but that could wait until they were married. So much of Sophie’s life had been a struggle. He’d not do a thing that might create any complications.

One of her hands slid down to the small of his back and then traced his waist, slipping between their bodies until she cupped his manhood in her small palm, giving him a light squeeze.

It was so perfect, the feel of her, the lightness of the touch. With a grunt he thrust into her palm, an orgasm ripping through him as he spasmed and shook. She held him until it was done, and his forehead tipped down to press to hers.

“Sophie.” He sounded as though he was begging, and he just might be. Because as much as he could be the strength, he needed her so much. Her body pressed to his was like being home for the first time in his life.

“I’m here,” she murmured back. “Right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Neither was he. He lifted her long enough to settle her under the covers before he wrapped his body around hers.

In this moment he knew for certain, that he’d use every ounce of his strength to defeat Whitehouse and make Sophie’s world safe and happy. His fear was replaced with resolve. He was going to dismantle Whitehouse brick by brick. He’d begin tomorrow.