Trapped with the Forbidden Duke (Forbidden Lords #5)

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

“ H ow strange,” Edwina muttered to herself, “to wish for it all to stop for so long, and now that it has, I find I am the one who cannot stop.”

It had barely been a week since she had settled in Stormhold Hall, and she still found herself unable to sleep well. She woke up what seemed like every hour, on high alert for her brother’s night terrors, before she realized that her brother was not there.

Yet, she had dealt with those worries for so long that she still couldn’t let go of them.

Perhaps she didn’t want to.

Perhaps she had gotten so used to handling everything that she now didn’t know how not to listen out for any signs of distress.

Climbing out of bed, Edwina thought that a walk would help clear her mind and tire her out. In the early stages of his addiction, when her brother had returned home lucid enough not to pass out quickly, Edwina had tired herself out by staying awake with him until the sun crept over the rooftops of London.

Now, there was no Nicholas, and that absence dug into her like a thorn.

Tying her robe around her nightgown, she left her room. Strangely, she noticed that the Duke’s door was slightly ajar. Lifting her hand, she considered knocking, before hurrying away from the door upon hearing a creak from inside.

No, she was not quite brave enough for that encounter yet.

Navigating the hallways, Edwina found herself approaching the library. She noticed that the door was open and spotted a light coming from inside.

The floorboards creaked beneath her feet, and she winced.

Who was in there, if the Duke had been in his room? A maid, perhaps, doing some late-night cleaning?

Edwina sighed and entered the library… only to stop when the sight of the Duke stunned her.

He was dressed down in a way she had not seen since that night she found him bare-chested outside Nicholas’s rooms in Montgomery Manor. His shirt was untucked from beneath his breeches and mostly unbuttoned.

Her mouth ran dry at the sight, and she could not tear her gaze away from the expanse of muscle quickly enough.

“Edwina,” Lucien breathed, and her gaze snapped up to his piercing green eyes.

He stood, but she was already stepping away. She heard footsteps hurrying after her.

The library door clicked shut, and she spun around angrily to find her husband closer than she had realized.

How had she forgotten just how he towered over her?

“Yes?” she bit out.

“I…” He paused, inhaling deeply. His jaw clenched. “I only wished to say goodnight. I will not disturb you.”

He made to move past her, but she blocked his path.

“I do not have the plague, you know,” she said, her words clipped. “If you come near me, you will not catch anything. Yet, you avoid me as though you think you will.”

“It is you who has hurried away from me,” he pointed out. “I was merely mirroring your actions. I thought you did not wish to be around me.”

“I am not the one who has been sneaking down hallways or changing paths abruptly to avoid you.”

Lucien’s eyes searched her face. She noticed that, despite the fire in them, he appeared tired.

“What have you been doing these last few days?” Edwina asked, studying him further, if only to prevent her eyes from flicking to his partially bare chest.

Already, her palms were sweating, knowing that he was partially bare and so near her.

“That is none of your business.”

“I overheard you speaking with your solicitor.”

“My business meetings are not your concern, Edwina.”

“I am your wife.”

“In name only.”

“Is that the only way you wish to take a wife?” she murmured, tilting her head back to look him in the eye.

Warning bells went off in her head. She had attempted to tease him twice before and had suffered the sting of rejection, but she could not help herself. Not when he looked like that. Not when he gazed at her with the same longing he once had in the parlor of Montgomery Manor as his hands slipped beneath her skirts. Not when he had pulled away from their kiss and had looked utterly wrecked, unable to fight his desires.

“It is the only way you wish to be taken as a wife, is it not?” he replied.

“You assume. Have you ever asked?”

Lucien paused before gazing coolly at her. “Should I have?”

“I do not understand.”

“Would I have received an answer that changes anything between us?”

“Perhaps. You kissed me before we were wed,” she whispered, hurt and confused. “What has changed?”

“I do not have to explain myself to you.” Lucien’s words were clipped, and he looked skyward before meeting her eyes once more. “Do not… Do not toy with me, Edwina. I do not have the means?—”

“Then give in to whatever it is you want.”

“Do you know what it is you truly ask for?” His question lingered between them.

Before Edwina could tell him that she had thought of how his body had felt against hers ever since that day she had sat astride him, his kisses making her see the very heavens and stars, he backed her up against the wall.

Her back hit the stone roughly, and she bit back a yelp. He grabbed her wrists in one hand, keeping her anchored to him. A heady thrill went through her as her breath left her lips in shaky bursts.

“Answer me,” he pressed, lowering his face to hers. She could not look away from his lips. “Do you know what it is you have asked for?”

“Yes,” she whispered, trying to arch into him, but he kept his body away from hers.

He laughed breathlessly, a short burst of noise that did not make her feel embarrassed but aroused.

“Edwina, I will only claim you when you truly crave me. When you are so sick with longing that you cannot take it anymore. When the only tremors coursing through your body are ones of pleasure and not trepidation or a nerve-soaked sense of duty. When your dreams are filled with images of me pinning you to my bed, I will truly claim you. You are not ready. Not yet.”

“Who is to say that I have not been having such dreams?” she breathed.

Her heart pounded in her throat, and everything in her body was alight in a way it had not been on her wedding night.

“Because I know how you look when you’re so aroused that you cannot think of anything else.” His words were soft caresses, drifting over the shell of her ear, and she shivered. “And I know how you look when you are fulfilling a duty you think I am expecting. I will not put you through that.”

After a moment, she realized what he was doing. He was riling her up, testing her limits, to see if she would match his fire with her own.

“Who is to say that I do not crave you as you crave me? Who is to say that I do not wish to be toyed with?”

“The night of our wedding… you did not want this.”

Rising on her tiptoes, Edwina leaned in, her lips brushing his jaw. Lucien stiffened against her.

“It is true that my hands tremble, husband, and it is true that I grow nervous, but you do not get to assume the desires I have since kept in my dreams at night, when the candles are out and my bed is too empty. The desires that have plagued me ever since our kiss, when my body reacted to the way your hands slid over me, fueled by your weakness for me.”

“Edwina.” It was both a warning and a sound of desperation.

“Does it upset you, Lucien?” she asked, the darkness and quietness of the night emboldening her now. “To know that you have a weakness for my body? Is that why you have avoided me?”

“ Edwina ,” Lucien growled as he pressed his body against hers, not leaving an inch of space between them.

With one last desperate push, Edwina undid the last button on his shirt and met his eyes. “Toy with me, Lucien.”

Without wasting another moment, Lucien ground his hips against hers, and she tugged on his shirt, pulling him in. Their mouths crashed, and her breath was stolen by his lips closing over hers.

Lucien kissed her roughly, his hands releasing her wrists to capture her face. His teeth grazed her lower lip—a hard show of his pent-up desire—before his kisses turned slightly softer when she welcomed him into her mouth.

His tongue brushed hers, and she shivered beneath his touch, aching for more. She felt greedy, the days of avoidance heightening the desire she had not let herself feel in favor of thinking of her wifely duties.

But now that desire blazed through her.

She gasped when Lucien gripped the back of her thigh and hitched it higher. Then, he took her lips in slow, deliberate kisses. Edwina felt like she was free-falling, and she did not even care if he would catch her if she crashed into him. Yet, she knew he would.

Lucien made a rough noise in the back of his throat and pressed his lips to her neck. “Say that you want me.”

“I do,” she gasped when he dragged his tongue up her neck.

He shuddered against her. “Say the words.”

Edwina struggled to keep her wits about her as her eyes closed, her fingers sliding into his hair. Auburn strands spilled over her pale fingers, and she tightened her grip.

“I want you.”

“Again.”

“I want you.”

“Keep saying it.”

“Heavens,” Edwina breathed as he kissed his way down her throat and nipped her collarbone, nudging her robe off her shoulders so it fell and gathered at her elbows. “I want you, Lucien. I-I need you.”

He was kissing down her chest, right over her thin nightgown. He growled against the fabric, and for a moment, she wondered if he would tear it off her body. Her stomach fluttered as she considered it. Perhaps he would have, had they not been in the hallway.

Instead, he straightened to take her mouth again as he wrapped her leg around his hip. It left her open in a way she had never been before, and the vulnerability of being spread made her tremble.

“I am ready,” she whispered.

“Are you now?” Lucien quirked an eyebrow, his lips twitching with amusement. “And you would have me claim you right here, in the hallway?”

Inch by inch, his hand slid up her thigh, pushing her nightgown higher. Edwina’s face burned, her breaths short.

Every gasp and moment was soaked in need, in anticipation.

Lucien rolled his hips against her mound, and her legs quivered at the feel of him straining against his breeches. She reached for him, her palm pressing against his torso, feeling every muscle flex beneath her touch.

“When I claim you fully, my wife,” he purred, his lips grazing the edge of her cheekbone, “it will be in my bed, where I will be able to keep your scent in my sheets long after you have let me drive you to completion over and over.”

He closed his eyes, nosing at the spots on her neck that smelled of jasmine.

He likes it , she realized.

Edwina tilted her head back, giving him better access, feeling him groan against her skin as he chased the scent. He lost himself—his hips ground wildly against hers, the motion almost bruising yet utterly welcome. She gasped, tightening her leg around his waist.

“And what about now?” she asked. “Do not tease me so by sending me back to my chambers again.”

Barely a moment passed before Edwina found her front pressed against the wall, and Lucien put his hands on her hips. He gave a low, warning growl as he parted her legs with his own.

“I would not dream of it,” he murmured.

Her wits scattered in the air as he slowly bunched up her nightgown in his hand, only to slide his other one underneath it. She pressed back, aching for him—aching for something. The very thing she had craved since that day in the parlor.

Her breath caught as his fingers slid higher and higher until they brushed her soft inner thigh.

“And if I touch you here,” he murmured, nipping the back of her shoulder, “will you be satisfied?”

Before Edwina could answer, his fingers slid against her heat. Her breath left her in a gasp, and without quite knowing what she was doing, she ground her hips back against him.

“Heavens, you are soaked,” he muttered in awe.

“Did you think I was fooling you this whole time?” she asked, pushing back against his hand.

“I just… I did not think you?—”

“I do,” she cut him off.

Without warning, his hand was in her loose hair, tugging her head back. His mouth slanted over hers as a rough noise tore from his throat, right as one finger slid into her. Edwina fought to control her breathing, her body, the raging desire that threatened to burn everything—including her sensibilities.

“Oh, Heavens,” she breathed into his mouth as he slowly slid his finger in and out of her, only to repeat the motion.

Her forehead was pressed to the wall as she scrabbled for purchase, for anything to hold on to. It pushed her backside further against Lucien, and he cupped her boldly as he continued to slide his fingers in and out of her heat, drawing it out as much as he wished, until she could barely keep quiet.

“I want to hear you,” he told her. “I am the Duke of Stormhold, and you are my Duchess. Do you truly think I care if we are heard?”

“It… It is improper,” she moaned as he slid another finger into her.

A choked noise tore out of her, and heat that she did not know could feel this good shot through her. Her entire body was trembling, unbearably hot, and if she had not been pinned between her husband’s body and the wall, she would have wilted to the ground already.

“What is improper, wife , is how easily you spread yourself open for me.”

Edwina realized that she had, indeed. Her legs were parted, and her back was arched to allow him better access to her core.

“Do you enjoy having your husband’s fingers pleasuring you so?” he demanded, the palm of his hand grinding against her mound.

She was losing herself, spiraling into a pleasure she had not known existed. Being like this, being taken apart in such a way, was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

Lucien curled his fingers deep inside her, deeper than she had thought possible. All she knew was the onslaught of pleasure shuddering through her in waves that she could not stop.

Her body was overwhelmed in the best way possible.

“Answer me,” Lucien urged.

“Yes,” she cried out before she clamped a hand over her mouth, but he was quick to pull it away.

“I told you, I do not care who hears you.”

And then he was sliding his fingers in and out of her faster, punching stilted moans out of her.

She ached for him. If this was only his fingers, and she was already dizzy with pleasure, what would other parts of him feel like?

He put a hand on her stomach, and his fingers slid further down to toy with another sensitive spot. A spot that made her scream as she jolted in his arms and fell backward.

His fingers did not stop. The waves of pleasure kept rolling over her, and a lustful, drunk giggle fell from her lips, as though she had indulged in several glasses of wine.

“Lucien,” she moaned. “Lucien, please.”

“Please what , Duchess?”

His hand moved faster, and she could not keep a grip on her wits. She gripped his wrist. Not to stop him—no, never—but to steady herself.

“Oh, Heavens, Heavens , please do not stop.”

“I have no intentions of doing such a thing.”

He kissed down the top of her spine, his teeth bluntly grazing her skin, and pumped his fingers in and out of her. She was whining, pleading in his arms. She writhed against him, able to feel his long, thickening manhood pressing against her backside through the layers of their clothing. She rolled her hips, torn between wanting to feel more of his length and wanting to feel more of his fingers.

“Do you feel it, Edwina?” Lucien murmured against her cheek. “Do you feel that ball of pleasure building inside you?”

“Yes!” Edwina groaned. “I feel—feel like I will burst apart.”

“Good,” he told her. “Let it take you.”

“I— but ?—”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Never.”

He took her chin in his hand, meeting her eyes. “You are safe with me.”

He did not look away from her, not as she nodded, and not as he curled his fingers inside her and pumped them into her, drowning her in pleasure that she could not even voice. Her lips parted, silent moans tumbling from them right as her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body began to shake.

“There you go,” he murmured. “Let go, Edwina. Do not fear it.”

And so Edwina tried to let herself embrace that ball of pleasure—until it exploded. Her body shook violently as she reached the peak of her pleasure, her climax thundering through her.

A long, torn noise escaped her, and Lucien kept pumping his fingers into her even as she shook and shuddered with pleasure.

Edwina gasped, over and over, her hips bucking to both ride out the full waves and seek more.

She trapped his wrist against her body and the wall and ground against his fingers until the tremors stopped.

When she was done, she fell forward, leaning against the wall. Her body quivered, short spasms that she would be concerned about if she did not already understand what was happening.

“You did very well,” Lucien murmured, turning her to face him.

He kissed her until she came back to herself. Dazed, she chased his lips with her own as he pulled away.

“You are trembling.”

“I am well,” she whispered. “I am… very well, in fact.”

Her whole body felt exhausted, drained in a new, pleasurable way.

“Good,” he said, meeting her gaze meaningfully. “Because that is only a brief taste of what I am going to do to you.”

“Tonight?” she asked breathlessly. “I may need a moment to?—”

“No,” he growled. “And that is not me rejecting you. I am taking care of you. Not tonight, no, but another. I will come to claim you, Duchess, and I will not keep you waiting for long. But for now, I want you to rest. Allow me to take you back to your chamber.”

Edwina nodded.

During the walk back to her chambers, she felt as though she was floating several inches above the ground.

Lingering in the doorway to her room, she met Lucien’s eyes. Lucien, who was still aroused and had not demanded anything of her in return for driving her to such an earth-shaking climax.

He noticed her looking and smirked. When she shifted her focus to his face, he raised an eyebrow. “Goodnight, Edwina.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered, blinking in surprise as he pulled away, already loosening his breeches.

As she closed the door, she imagined how he might touch himself in his room—how he might one day teach her to touch him and drive him to the same heights of pleasure.