Chapter 20
Whitmore Estate was elegant as ever when they returned. Candlelight flickered in the windows, drawing her eye.
The carriage rolled to a halt. Aurelia rose from her seat, and although Percival offered his hand, she ignored it.
She stepped down, expecting to feel a wave of relief at being home. However, her chest burned. The incident at the park lingered in her mind.
Her husband’s sharp words had cut her family deeply. The fact had gnawed at her for the whole ride back.
Her jaw clenched. She had tried to swallow it on the way home, but it lingered like wine on her tongue, heavy and impossible to ignore.
Her gaze flickered with hurt. Percival, of course, noticed. He always noticed. His blue eyes flicked over her face as they stepped into the manor. But, as always, he didn’t ask. He let the silence reign, as if daring her to speak.
By the time they reached her chamber door, he offered a slight bow. The gesture was so perfectly measured that it made her pulse quicken with irritation.
When he turned, she resisted the urge to speak. But the moment he took a step forward, she snapped.
“Is that all?”
Her voice was sharper than she had intended, but she didn’t care.
Percival stopped, his hand resting on the doorframe. Then, slowly, he turned back to her.
“Pardon?” He narrowed his eyes just a fraction.
Aurelia scoffed, then stepped closer, her chest heaving. “You think this is how one re-enters society? By berating my family as if they were children? By speaking for me as though I were mute?”
His brows drew together, and a frown deepened the lines of his face. “They disrespected you,” he reminded her, as though she hadn’t witnessed it. “I will not allow that.”
She laughed so hard that his brows rose slowly in confusion, especially as the sound was bitter, almost trembling.
“Allow?” She cocked her head. “You are not my keeper, Percival.”
“No,” he said smoothly, though there was a warning under his tone. “I am your husband, and if you do not claim your place as my duchess, then I will do it for you.”
The words struck her like fire and ice at once. Her lips parted with shock, fury inspiring her next words.
“So you admit it,” she hissed. “This isn’t about me at all.
It’s about you.” Her voice cracked with emotion.
“About keeping your title polished and your wife spotless, so no one whispers about you. You don’t defend me out of care.
You defend me because I bear your name, and you can’t stand the thought of being embarrassed. ”
Silence fell between them. His frown deepened, his gaze locking onto hers with startling intensity. He didn’t speak right away, simply studying her as though the heat in his stare could burn the thought out of her mind.
She had done it again. Testing him. Taunting him. Driving him mad.
“Is that truly what you think of me?” he asked, his voice low.
Aurelia swallowed thickly. She knew that tone. Yet, she refused to back down.
“Yes,” she whispered, jutting her chin stubbornly even though a huge knot had formed in her stomach. “Why else would you be so quick to silence them? You don’t trust me to stand on my own.”
“You think I did it for my own pride?” he rasped. Her gaze lowered, and she saw his hands curl into fists at his sides. “That I silenced them because I feared being embarrassed?”
“Isn’t it true?” she challenged. “You were so quick to cut me off because you didn’t believe in me. You don’t believe in me. I embarrass you, don’t I?” Her voice trembled slightly.
His chest rose and fell with a heavy breath. Her words had cut deeper than she meant, and the hurt on his face made her almost wish she could take them back.
But it was too late.
When he took a step forward, his pull was undeniable. But she swallowed hard, refusing to be intimidated. She had not been pleased with the way he had scolded her parents. They were nobles as well. He could have at least shown them more respect.
“If you believe I act out of vanity,” he murmured, “then you understand nothing about me.”
Aurelia faltered at those words. Her anger faded. Not because of what he had said, but the way he had said it. As though something had wounded him deeply.
She wanted to keep arguing. She wanted to keep pushing back, to let him know that she didn’t need him to stand over her like a shield, that she wasn’t weak. Yet, she feared that if he came closer, her heart would betray her.
“Don’t twist this. Don’t act like a victim.” She cleared her throat, masking the tremor in her voice.
She tried her best to remain fierce, to remind herself that this was Percival. The man who wanted to run away from her. He had been ignoring her for the past few days, but didn’t hesitate to act like the perfect husband in public.
“What a show off,” she muttered, her thoughts slipping through. “You only do it because I am your wife. Because you would not stand the shame if I faltered.”
He said nothing. His eyes only darkened, the storm gathering in their blue depths evident.
That look alone made her heart race. She was caught between being furious and unsettled. She wanted him to snap back. She wanted him to lose his damned control.
“Why won’t you say something?” she pressed, her voice thick with emotion. “Why don’t you claim you are not some furious god trying to fight my battles after treating me like a forgotten prisoner?!” Her voice rose now, sharp as a knife.
But underneath it all, her heart whispered a certain truth she didn’t dare voice. She wanted him to be proud of her, to see her strength and still want her, still stand beside her.
And yet he said nothing.
Her frustration grew. His silence was worse than any insult.
“What now? Afraid to talk? Why are you looking at me like that?” she demanded, her voice shaking slightly.
“Because,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I am—” His eyes slowly fell on her lips, “deciding if I should argue with your stubborn mouth… or silence it.”
A breathless gasp escaped her lips. His words made her stomach flip violently, and a thrill rushed through her veins.
She lifted her chin to glare at him, but he moved forward with deliberate slowness, like a predator cornering its prey.
Something about his proximity made her want to lose control.
“You…” she trailed off, now that he was standing so close.
She took a step back, and he followed, dangerous and unrelenting. Eventually, her back met the wooden door, trapping her successfully before his brooding figure.
“Go on,” he coaxed, standing like violet-drenched steel before her. “Shout at me again.” He leaned to brace his arm beside her head. “Tell me how I wound your ego. Tell me that I do not believe in you. Say it, Aurelia.”
Her throat tightened. His nearness was unbearable. His breath fanned her face, the heat of him seeping through her gown. Every nerve in her body was tingling.
“You cannot,” he whispered, his mouth so close that she felt his breath brush her cheek. “You cannot, because you know your words are false. You know what I am.”
“I know,” she whispered back, “that you do not trust me. That I… That I can never be enough. That I can never be like her. Like the late—”
But she didn’t finish. She couldn’t. His eyes flashed with an emotion that left her trembling. She knew the meaning of that raw fury.
“You think I compare you?” he growled. “To someone else?”
Her lips parted in shock, scrambling for an answer. But before she could utter a word, his hands wrapped firmly around the delicate column of her throat. Not enough to hurt, but enough to stake a claim. To remind her of the power he held over her, the power she let him have.
Aurelia gasped softly, her pulse fluttering against his palm. She pressed her thighs together and looked up at him helplessly.
“Listen to me.” Percival’s voice was dark. “You are my Duchess. Mine. And if you dare think otherwise, if you dare believe you are anything less, I will make you forget such thoughts.”
Her breath stuttered at his words. She was unable to look away from the fury in his gaze.
“Do you hear me?” His grip tightened just slightly, and it made her shiver.
“No,” she uttered with a faint shake of her head.
She still managed to be stubborn.
When he tightened his grip further, a moan escaped her lips, breathy and shameless.
The sound broke something inside him. His fingers trembled around her throat, and he clenched his jaw. Without a second thought, he leaned in and took her mouth in a rough, hungry kiss.
The kiss stole her breath, making her press her chest against his. But it was brief. He pulled back quickly, and she sagged against the door, her lips swollen, her breathing ragged.
“That…” she trailed off, dazed. “That is not proof.”
His eyes darkened further, fury and desire warring within them.
“Careful,” he warned in a low growl.
But it was not enough to silence her.
“Show me,” she taunted, the words falling from her lips like sin. “Prove it, Percival.”
The growl that tore from his chest was primal. He dipped his head and dragged his mouth down her throat. A shaky breath escaped him before his teeth grazed her skin, then nipped it. A moan spilled out of her.
Unable to help it, Aurelia put her hands on his shoulders, unashamedly desperate.
“You tempt the devil himself,” he muttered against her skin, his lips trailing down the slope of her collarbone.
Aurelia arched into him, wanting more of everything he was offering to her.
“Then ruin me,” she breathed shakily.
Let go of that damned control of yours.
His groan was deep and raw before he closed his mouth over her breast through the thin fabric of her gown. His tongue licked her nipple, sucking until the fabric became soaked, until she was writhing and moaning his name all at once.
“Percival.”
The sound nearly undid him. His restraint was crumbling to nothing.
With one impatient tug, he tore her bodice, revealing the thin linen chemise clinging to her breasts. Then, with an insane hunger, his lips wrapped around the swollen peak, sucking, tasting, devouring.
“Say you are mine,” he growled against her breast.
“No,” she gasped, trembling against him. “I… I will not.”
His hand slid down even lower, bunching her skirts as he went. When his fingers pressed between her thighs, finding her already slick with arousal, he couldn’t help the groan that escaped him. Her knees trembled at the first touch, a whimper falling from her lips.
“You are soaked,” he said darkly, curling his fingers just enough to make her gasp. “And yet you deny it so boldly.”
Her head fell back against the door, her nails digging into his shoulders. “You flatter yourself…” Her words came out too weak, sounding like helpless whimpers.
His fingers pressed harder. “Then tell me to stop.”
Without warning, he slid one finger inside her and curled it, making her shake violently.
Cries tore from her lips, and she bit her lower lip, as though trying to suppress them. But his fingers were deliberate and unrelenting. He pressed harder into her.
“Tell me.” He moved his mouth close to her ear, his voice raspy. “Say it, and I will do as you say.”
But she couldn’t. She could only whimper, her hips bucking helplessly against his hand.
Suddenly, his finger stopped inside her. It made her almost cry out in frustration, tears pricking her eyes.
“You can’t tell me to stop, can you?” He stared deep into her eyes.
He could see it. His withdrawal was torture.
“Now, promise me you will do as I say. Promise me you will act like the duchess I want you to be.”
When her eyes flashed with fire and she opened her mouth, he kissed her, silencing any protests.
“Promise me,” he growled against her mouth.
Her body was aching terribly now, every nerve screaming for release. His fingers remained between her legs, taunting her.
When she realized how powerless she was, she nodded. “Please,” she moaned. “Please… don’t stop…”
He smirked against her lips, then withdrew his hand entirely. She nearly sobbed at the loss.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice thick with hunger. “Promise me you believe that I compare you with no one.”
“Yes…” Aurelia relented in a desperate whisper. “I promise. Just… don’t stop.”
Her surrender was his weakness. His finger dove back into her, rougher, faster, curling deep. She shattered instantly, trying her best to spread her legs as wide as possible, wanting to give him enough access. He crushed his mouth to hers again, and she moaned against him.
Her body convulsed as pleasure consumed her. She had ached for this moment. She had longed for his touch, for him to pleasure her even in the slightest way.
When his thumb rubbed her clit, she shattered. But he was quick to swallow her cry with his lips, devouring hers, owning them until she slumped against the door.
“Percival.” She cupped his face, the sound of his finger sliding in and out of her filling the air.
He was driving her to yet another climax. She was going to explode any moment.
When pleasure crashed over her again, he moved his lips to her ear.
“Mine,” he whispered fiercely as she trembled in his arms. “Always mine.”