Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Her hands rose to his shoulders, and she held on as if she were a shipwreck survivor clinging to a piece of driftwood. He scooped her up effortlessly into his arms, cradling her against his hard chest.
She kissed him, pouring all of her pain, sorrow, and longing in an attack on his lips. She pushed her tongue into his warm mouth, exploring him with each lick, savoring the taste of brandy and something that was uniquely him.
She was intoxicated by him.
She knew that their shared suffering was a physical thing, something that connected them in a way nothing else ever could. They were tethered. They were kindred spirits, connected for a reason she did not know.
All she knew was that she needed him. She needed more.
“I am sorry,” he whispered in her ear, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled back just enough to look down at her.
“I ken,” she replied, her voice soft. “Me too.”
He kissed her again, a deeper, more lingering kiss as he rubbed his nose against hers.
“I was half-mad with fury when you left me tonight,” he growled against her lips, his breath hot, his voice quivering with restraint. “You drive me to the edge, Elspeth. I burn for you. I cannot think, cannot breathe for wanting you. You undo me.”
“I ken,” she repeated. “I enjoy unravelin’ yer perfectly curated facade.”
He drew her closer, closing the space between them, while his right hand curled possessively around the swell of her hip, guiding her into him.
Each kiss, each caress, was deliberate, an unhurried demand, as though he were asking, Will you yield to me? And every answering brush of her lips, every tremble of her fingers against him, was her silent consent.
He tore his mouth from hers, his breathing ragged with restraint, hot against her lips.
At last, he lifted his head, his eyes boring into hers, searching, testing, waiting.
“Elspeth,” he growled, his voice rough with need.
“If we remain here, I will take you on this damned settee where anyone might walk in. I will not have you ruined like that.” His hands tightened on her waist, possessive, trembling with the force of his control.
“Come with me. To your room. Now. Before I forget myself entirely.”
She simply nodded, too aroused for words.
“You are trembling,” he whispered as he carried her out of the drawing room and toward the stairs.
She rested her head against his shoulder. “It has been a long night. So many ups and downs, I daenae ken which way to look.”
“Let me guide you,” he said as he carried her up the rest of the stairs and into her room, the door creaking softly behind them.
He gently laid her on her bed and knelt beside her, his hand stroking her hair as he delicately loosened a ribbon. Her hair fanned out in perfect ringlets on the pillow.
“Are you cold?” he asked, pulling the duvet over her.
“No,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Me blood is on fire for ye, Hugo. I am surely nae cold.”
He held her hand tightly.
“Just stay with me,” she begged, her voice barely audible.
“Say no more.” He pulled the duvet back down and looked down at her, licking his lips. “You are the most exquisite creature I have ever seen.”
“Stop, Hugo,” she said, covering her face with her hands. “Daenae say things ye daenae mean.”
“Look at me, Elspeth,” he demanded, his voice low, almost feral.
“I do not waste words. I never have. When I say I want you, it is the only truth left in me. You haunt my mind, my blood, my sleep. I burn for you. And God help me—” His thumb brushed her swollen lip, his gaze searing into her own. “All I want is to taste you again.”
She pulled her legs up, unable to restrain her excitement as her body trembled harder. She craved him and yet felt so unsure. She was unsure of herself, of what was happening between them.
He looked down at her, and she felt as if he would devour her if he could.
I want him to.
“Show me that beautiful body,” he purred as he began taking off his clothes at a painfully slow pace that made her hang on his every move.
“I am nae feelin’ very confident,” she admitted. “Unlike ye…”
“Do not make me beg, Elspeth,” he groaned as he got off the bed and stood beside it.
He paused for a moment, then strode toward the bed in only his pants, which hung low on his tight hips.
“I will if I have to. I will get down on my knees right here in front of you. Is that what you want? Do you want to make the powerful duke beg for it, darling?”
“I want ye—I want ye to take me,” she whispered, again bringing her hands to her heated cheeks as she felt the embarrassment of her admission. “All I want in me life is to lead me own destiny. But when I am here with ye, all I want is for ye to do what ye want with me.”
“You cannot fathom what you do to me,” he rasped, pressing his hand against the bulge in his trousers. His eyes burned into hers, hungry and unrelenting. “Every inch of you is my undoing. You are my wickedest fantasy made flesh.”
He descended on her in a rush, his hands urgent, almost frantic, tearing at the delicate fabric of her gown until the silk gave way.
She gasped, breathless, unable to keep pace with him, so she yielded—let herself be handled, possessed, adored. She wanted nothing more than to vanish into the heat of his desire, to lose herself entirely in the hunger blazing in his piercing eyes.
Her gown fell in tatters on the bed. She caught her breath, a wild laugh slipping out despite the pounding of her heart.
“Yer Grace,” she whispered, her voice trembling with nerves and mirth, “ye have just destroyed the Duchess of Greystead’s gown.”
His eyes roamed over her half-naked body, unrepentant.
He growled low in his throat. “Then the Duchess of Greystead shall have another. The finest Paris can provide. Tonight, nothing will stand between me and you.”
Before she could even draw another breath, her chemise was gone, and she found herself completely naked on the bed.
The air felt cool against her skin, yet heat pulsed furiously between her thighs, pooling until she was slick with want, shocked at how quickly he had undone her.
Her gaze roamed hungrily over him. The breadth of his shoulders, the sculpted ridges of his chest, the taut lines of muscle rippling with every breath.
The faint moonlight carved shadows on the hard planes of his abdomen, tapering lower, guiding her eyes to the place she had only dared imagine in her dreams.
Unable to stop herself, she slid a trembling hand down her stomach, seeking the ache in her core. But before her fingers could bring relief, his larger hand caught hers, firm and unyielding.
“Not like that,” he growled, pinning her wrist to the mattress. His eyes blazed, scorching and possessive. “You will not touch yourself when I am here. I will do it.”
He pulled her wrists above her head, pinning them there with effortless strength as he lowered himself over her. His mouth traced a burning path along her throat, lightly nipping the delicate skin, until he reached the swell of her breasts.
He lingered there, teasing her mercilessly, his tongue circling one stiff peak, then the other, while his hand cupped and kneaded, claiming her softness. His moan vibrated against her skin, and the sound made her arch into him, her hips straining for contact she was denied.
“Not yet, my lass,” he murmured against her breast, his voice rough with need. “I will have you feel everything I feel for you. Every bit of it. Again. And again. And again. Tonight, this is yours. All of it. All of me.”
“Oh,” Elspeth cried as he trailed his lips down her tummy to her sex. “But I want ye, all of ye.”
“You will do as you are told,” he chastised, before he licked her slit slowly, as one would a delicate dessert.
He licked her again, adding more pressure, moaning into her, and then rose and looked down on her. He licked his lips and winked at her.
“Ye are the devil,” she whispered.
“Perhaps I am. But you are the sweetest thing I have ever tasted, Elspeth,” he purred. “I will not stop until I have had my fill. Do you understand?”
“Aye,” she moaned as he dove back in.
“Aye, what?”
“Aye, Hugo,” she whimpered.
He licked her, lapping up her arousal until he made his way to her throbbing bud. He sucked and played, never rushing and yet with an urgency that made her feel as if she were on fire. He then slid a finger inside her with a rhythmic pulse. Her hips bucked up to meet his perfect thrusts.
“You unravel me,” he rasped. “You are mine. Do. You. Understand. Me?”
“Aye!” she gasped as he continued working her, adding another finger.
“All of you are mine, Elspeth. You are so tight. Even this,” he said as he scooped her wetness with another finger and spread it around her rosette.
He began stroking the most private part of her, a wave of embarrassment washing over her as her walls clamped down on his fingers.
“Ye cannae like that,” she cried out, tears springing to her eyes. “It is all too much for me, Hugo. How can this be good for ye?”
“You will not question me, Elspeth,” he growled. “Not here or anywhere else. You will take it like a good girl. Let me give you what you want.”
“Ah!” She let go, allowing him to use her. “Why does that feel so good?”
“Because I am doing it to you, darling,” he murmured. “I will always know what you need.”
He slowly teased her rosette, pushing his finger in slightly as he worked her with his other hand.
A part of her wanted more, but she was afraid of what that would mean and how it would feel. She was impossibly aroused and even more confused.
“There will be more time for this later,” he groaned. “I’ll make sure you are good and ready when the time comes, for all of it.”
He pulled back, his hard body on full display on top of her as he looked down. He took his hard cock out of his trousers and began stroking himself.
“Do you see what you do to me? Look at this.”
“Aye,” she whimpered, reaching for him. “Can I touch ye?”
“Not right now. Tonight is about you. We’ll do as I see fit.”