Chapter 12
Twelve
The sun was setting behind distant hills when Alexander decided to stop the search. Anything could have happened to the foil between the yard where Esther had lost her game and his house. Someone must have stolen it.
He sat next to Esther on the sofa in his parlour overlooking the sea. The red clouds were reflected in the water, giving the illusion a large flock of red crossbill birds had landed on the sea.
She sat with her shoulders hunched, her hands folded in her lap.
He brushed a curl from her face. “You shouldn’t be sad.”
“You lost your precious foil because of me. I’ve always followed the rules and listened to Mother my whole life. The one single time I try to do something wild ends up in one disaster after the other. It would be bad enough if I were the only one involved, but to lose your foil is unforgivable.”
“It wasn’t a complete disaster.” He caressed the curve of her cheek. “I found you. That’s more precious than anything in the world.”
A side of her mouth curved up in a shy smile. “I’m happy to hear that.”
The dying sun hit her eyelashes and made them sparkle. He dipped his head and paused. She parted her lips and inched closer.
He kissed her slowly, teasing her lips with the tip of his tongue.
She placed her soft hand on his cheek and drew him closer.
The kiss felt both new and familiar at the same time, as if kissing her were the most natural thing he could do.
But there was nothing familiar about the emotion fluttering in his chest.
She shivered at the touch of his tongue against hers as he deepened the kiss.
He broke the kiss and shared his breath with her. “That didn’t seem like a disaster.”
“No, but I don’t think I deserve it.”
He feigned agreement. “Then you should give it back to me.”
She pressed her mouth against his hard, and a groan rumbled in his chest. He held her face with both hands as she opened her mouth.
The silkiness of her skin was irresistible. He ran his hand down her neck, pausing on the swift pulse beating under her jaw, and caressed her breast before stopping on her waist.
She breathed harder. He pulled her closer until she sat on his lap. He wanted to kiss her again, but instead, he stared at her, at her golden eyelashes brimming with sunlight and her lips flaming with passion.
“I really like you, Esther,” he whispered, stroking her hair. No matter how many times she fixed her chignon, a few wayward curls always escaped and rebelled against the constriction. Just like her. “I like your spirit, determination, and kindness.”
“I like you, too, Alex. You’re kind and patient.”
He slid a hand under her skirt and caressed her leg. “I like your legs.” He paused over her thigh. “Perfect shape.”
She laughed. “How do you know what shape they… Oh, right. You saw me half naked.”
“The more I think about last night, the less I think it was a disaster. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.” He touched her inner thigh, smiling as she trembled again. “Would you like me to go on?”
“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate, and her breathy voice was another thing he liked about her.
He kissed her again, and she pressed herself against him, parting her legs. When he slipped past the slit in her drawers, she sagged against him with a loud sigh.
“Is it too much?” he asked.
“Yes, but in a good way.” Her breath fanned on his neck.
He kissed the tip of her nose as he rubbed her until she muffled a scream by pressing her mouth against his shoulder.
“That was wonderful, too.” She snuggled closer to him.
He kept caressing her back and legs, feeling her warm skin under his palm. She shifted her position until she straddled him. The change sent a shock through him.
“What are you doing?”
She moved her skirts out of the way until her thin drawers and his trousers were the only things separating them.
“I’m following your advice about me doing what I want and not always worrying about the rules.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “What do you think?”
“Well, I—” A groan left him as she rolled her hips, tormenting him.
“Yes?” The minx smiled.
“Shouldn’t we wait to be married?” He sounded weak to his own ears.
“Isn’t that a rule we can decide to ignore?” She rolled her hips again, and a bolt of lightning made of pleasure went through him.
A craving crawled through his chest and wanted to get out. He wanted her. His thoughts were scattered around without logic. Maybe he should listen to her. Maybe she was right. Another groan escaped him when she dragged a hand down his chest to the falls of his trousers.
“Esther…” Hell, her touch was too good for him to speak.
“I’m tired of doing everything my parents ask me to do. I want to feel more. I want to live more, and I can’t think of a better man than you to have new experiences with.” Heat swirled in the depths of her eyes, and it was contagious.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, but if you change your mind about your proposal—”
“I won’t. I only changed my mind about a long engagement. I want a short one.”
She kissed him. “If you change your mind, I won’t begrudge you. This is something I want for us, a moment for us to forget the rules and be ourselves. Will you share this moment with me?”
“I will.”
She drew in a breath and fiddled with the falls of his trousers, and that was when his control snapped. While she was busy, he unfastened her gown. The sweet moment became a chaos of frantic hands and sloppy kisses as they unbuttoned each other’s clothes just to shove the fabric away.
He paused when she remained in her chemise with her gown gathered at her waist. He ran a hand over her lovely breasts and teased her nipples to hard peaks. She arched her back, biting her lower lip. When he closed his mouth around her nipple, she gripped his shoulders hard.
Then she moved her hips back and forth, and just like many other things that had happened with her, they naturally found a rhythm. She took control of their bodies and inched over him. He helped her, holding her hips and savouring every delicious inch of her.
She paused only to kiss him savagely, thrusting her tongue in his mouth and moving up and down. He was about to die and be born again. No wonder that the French called the lovemaking release la petite mort—the little death.
She panted quickly, and he followed her over the edge. When she muffled her scream on his chest, he pulled her up. He held her tightly, sharing his heat with her.
“I will never change my mind,” he said among pants. “You’re my duchess.”
When her breathing returned to normal, she kissed his cheek. “I’m starting to think this holiday wasn’t a complete disaster, either.”