Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“How would you know, Sophia? You’ve not been a duchess for very long.
Nor are there any written instructions on how best to be a duke.
” He cocked his head. “And before becoming a duchess, you were merely the far too direct, thumb your nose at society, much too forthright daughter of Lord Canterbell. I’m the only one brave enough to stand my ground with you.
I’m told the other gentlemen lacked courage. ”
All true. Every word. “I found them unintelligent.”
“But not me. Not when you ran out into the Perswick gardens with the most debauched duke in London.” He leaned forward.
“Which means you’ve more than a bit of wickedness in you, Your Grace.
At any rate,” he motioned to the soap sitting on a chair beside him.
“I require my back washed.” Roxboro fixed a flat, arrogant stare on her.
“No. I do not care to be dictated to.” She trembled, clutching her skirts, knowing she would comply. There could be no repeat of what had transpired before. Allowing such a thing would…doom Sophia. She hadn’t confessed to him and—
“Not another word, Sophia.” He slapped the edge of the tub. “You will address me as Alexander when we are alone. Which I intend us to be,” there was a thread of menace in his tone. “with increasing frequency.”
A tiny bit of vulnerability flickered in the shimmering green, the streaks of silver flashing at her.
I’ve hurt him by staying away.
That knowledge that she possessed the power to harm such a magnificent being had a tremble go through her. Her heart took a small leap before she forced it down. Roxboro would feel differently later.
Sophia came around behind him and picked up the soap. “Fine. Demanding, petulant duke.” Her eyes widened as she looked down.
Dear lord, I can see…well, it is larger than I imagined.
“Shoulders first,” Roxboro commanded. “You forgot arrogant.”
“I think that to be given.” She picked up the cloth and dipped it in the bath. “You’re put out with me.”
The shoulders tensed. “I am.”
She rubbed a good amount of soap on the cloth and drew it over the breadth of his shoulders.
How unfair that one man had been gifted with such startling looks, a title and great wealth.
Though Sophia thought the Lord had a sense of humor, because he’d also bestowed a great deal of clumsiness on Roxboro. Enough to keep him humble, perhaps.
Taking a seat on the stool at his side, Sophia glanced into the water. A mistake because—well, his cock bobbed back at her.
“I thought we had come to an agreement, of sorts.” Roxboro shut his eyes. “Don’t you dare miss a spot.”
Absently, Sophia drew the cloth over his arms and shoulders, all the while her attention fixated on his cock.
Yes, she’d caught a glimpse, once or twice after that first bath, but…
he’d been ill and—honestly, Sophia had made sure it was covered.
Roxboro had been sick. She hadn’t wanted the distraction.
“This avoidance of each other must stop, as amusing a chase as it has been.” Reaching back, he took Sophia’s hand, flattening her palm across his chest. “Don’t make me yell through the window for you again.” The words were gentle. “You’ll upset Barstow.”
“Roxboro—”
“Alexander. I need you to address me as Alexander.” His hand pushed hers more firmly into his chest. “Please. I—nearly dying—well, your view of the world changes. Oh, I realize that almost dying is something of a hobby of mine. Usually accidental. Sometimes for my purse. And all those instances took place when I was foxed…so not entirely unexpected. Oakhurst might be there to laugh at my misfortune. The society pages would write of my latest brush with injury. But this time was different because there was someone who cared whether I survived and fought for me.”
“Lord Damon—”
“Bears me a great deal of affection. As do Rose and Violet. But none of them would ever sit by my bedside and read to me. Mop my brow. Bring me comfort. I think the last person who did so was Aunt May when I had a terrible cough one winter.” His brows drew together. “Laugh with me and—” The words halted.
“You are what?” she whispered.
“Not alone,” he rasped. “Because you are here.”
Sophia looked down to Roxboro’s hand, holding hers to his heart, realizing what he meant.
Oh. Her heart expanded sharply, leaning towards his.
“More importantly, I desire you. Greatly. Perhaps more than you can comprehend and definitely far more than I should.” Roxboro moved her hand from his heart to his stomach, then still lower, until Sophia’s fingers caught in the thatch of hair surrounding his cock, which was now…
so stiff the tip pointed directly at her.
The green of his eyes glinted up at her, the heat, unmistakable. And longing. So much of it.
Her breasts grew heavy and taut with arousal, because now Sophia knew exactly what desire felt like. The sensation spilled along her mid-section to sit throbbing between her thighs until she pushed them together.
Roxboro’s free hand lifted from the water, looping around Sophia’s neck, dripping water and staining her dress. He brought their mouths close, mere inches apart before his tongue flicked out, tracing along the seam of her lips.
Sophia whimpered.
“Sophie,” he whispered her name against the corner of her mouth. “A bad start does not mean that we cannot have a good ending.” He kissed her carefully, his lips lazy and sensual, full of promise.
A sound left her. Soft with surrender.
Sophia dropped the cloth with a plop into the water. He pushed her hand further, encouraging her to touch and explore. His skin was slick with soap as her fingers slid along his stomach, daring to come close to his cock.
“Yes,” he groaned. “My terrible bride.”
The desire between her and Roxboro plucked insistently at her skin, reminding Sophia that it was there, no matter how unlikely. She wanted to give herself over to it. And him. This feeling is real, her heart whispered. Why have you been avoiding this marvelous—
Oh, yes. Nearly forgot.
“There is something I must tell you.” Sophia almost wept at having to push away from him. Here was Roxboro, shocking her with his sincerity which made her own deceit all that much worse.
“And there is a place you must touch me,” he returned in a silky tone. “No talking right now. None. I don’t want to hear a word unless you are screaming my name as you climax. Or giving me specific instructions on where to place my mouth.”
“Alexander.” She tried to force her confession out, but the words refused to come though she’d practiced them in her mind often enough.
Coward.
“Are you always so direct in such matters?”
“Yes, I am,” Roxboro answered. “Now, this is my cock. There are other names for it, but I like that one best. But if I’m truthful,” he grabbed her hand once more, positioning her fingers over the hard length, silky and heated beneath the water.
“You may call it anything you like as long as you place your fingers just so.”
“Ann told me to call it a cock.” At his look, she said, “My maid. Ann. I—not specifically your—male anatomy—but in general.” Sophia attempted to sound…confident, even with her cheeks burning.
“I’m glad to know Ann is not peeking at my cock.” A wry smile pulled at his lips. “When I’m asleep. Now, wife. I am yours to do with as you like.”
“I don’t know what to do. My mother told me to lay on the bed and obey you.”
“Hmm. We’ll get to that presently.”
Fingers curling around him, Sophia tested the size before stroking gently down his length. “Like this?”
“Sophie.” Roxboro’s mouth on hers became more demanding with each stroke of her fingers beneath the water. His large body trembled, sending ripples across the bath water as her thumb rubbed along the tip, dipping into the seam at the top. A growl came from him.
“Is that wrong?” she whispered.
“Nothing you could possibly do is wrong.” Roxboro’s hand tightened over the top of her fingers, showing Sophia exactly how to caress him.
“More.” He nipped the side of her neck. “Harder.” His mouth found the slope of her neck, biting gently until she gasped.
Then his lips found hers once more, kissing Sophia as if his life depended on it.
Tongues twined together. Breaths mingling as Roxboro groaned into her mouth.
He stiffened. Held her hand with a forceful grip as he jerked beneath the water.
“Sophie,” he gasped. Hips thrusting up, forcing his cock further into her hand, Roxboro found his pleasure.
He was beautiful when he climaxed, though Sophia had never witnessed such a thing before. A feeling of power surged through her. She had given him such pleasure. Not some courtesan or a barmaid at a tavern. But Sophia.
Roxboro’s eyes were closed, lips parted as he panted softly. “Well, imagined I would last longer considering I’m a notorious libertine, but I’ve been dreaming of you, Sophie.”
“You dream of me?”
“I do. Mostly wicked things.” He winked.
“I’m going to get out of this tub before I completely wrinkle, because I’ve been soaking for some time.
I spent so long waiting for you, my terrible wife, that the footmen had to bring me more hot water.
” Roxboro stood, water sluicing off his chest, stomach and along the globes of his muscular backside.
Rather splendid considering he doesn’t ride.
Taking up a towel, he dried himself, while a smug smile crossed his lips. “You look warm, Sophie. I’ll need to get you out of your dress as soon as possible. I don’t want you to…swoon in the heat.”
Wretch.
“No—” She shook her head and pulled back from the tub. “I need to tell—”
“Yes,” he said in that ducal tone that had her humming inside.
“We are consummating our marriage. Now. Today. Admittedly, having not done so previously is mostly my fault, but your avoidance hasn’t helped matters.
But as much as I’ve enjoyed the bath and your attention to my instructions on how best to bathe me, I have other plans. ”