Chapter 9
“What are you doing here?”
Peter sat up straight in his bed and stared at Miss Fitzroy.
He shook his head subtly, attempting to dismiss what he was sure must be a dream.
He had not laid eyes on Miss Fitzroy since she had left him in the shed during the late afternoon.
She had once again skipped dinner, so he had assumed that he would not see her for the rest of the night.
Yet here she stood, in his bedchambers.
She wore the same day dress that had fitted her beautifully in the afternoon hours, but her hair tumbled in cascading waves around her shoulders.
“I have come to… to speak with you,” she whispered as she closed the door behind her and strode across the room.
“Indeed?” Peter rolled out of bed, allowing his bare feet to touch the plush carpet.
Tonight, he wore only a long shirt, one that fell almost to his knees. He briefly considered slipping into a pair of breeches to make Miss Fitzroy more comfortable, but then dismissed the thought.
This is my room. She has slipped in here uninvited. Let her feel what comes naturally.
Lavinia clutched a candleholder in one hand. Because of the way the light illuminated her face, he could see that she was astonished by his near-nakedness.
“I just wanted to say…” She breathed deeply. “I wanted to ask…”
Her supple, full lips only excited him. He wanted to own her, to ravish her. He wanted to feel her so badly, and her deep breaths did not help him.
In three quick strides, Peter crossed the room. He snatched the candleholder from her hand and placed it on the table. Then, his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against him.
Just as he had anticipated, she gasped loudly.
“Ask me anything,” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “Whatever you want to know, whatever you wish to feel, I will oblige you.”
He felt her large breasts heave up and down with every breath. He could not wait to see what was hidden beneath the silk fabric that hinted at her curves. He wanted to think that she wanted it too, but he knew she couldn’t have known what ran through his head.
“I want… I need…” she whispered, her warm breath brushing his face, and it almost melted him.
Peter closed his eyes as he heard her pant the words. She sounded so sensual yet so innocent. And that was his cue; he knew he couldn’t hold still any longer.
He inhaled her scent, the same scent that lingered after any time he spent in her presence. She smelled like flowers with a hint of vanilla—so sweet and so feminine.
“What do you want me to do, Miss Fitzroy?” he almost growled.
He wanted to hear her beg, but he also wanted to grant her requests. He wanted to tease her, yet he wanted to pleasure her.
Miss Fitzroy did not speak for a moment.
“I…” she moaned.
Peter almost lost it. Her voice felt heavenly in his ears. He could not wait to hear more, to hear her moan his name.
He felt the longing in every part of his body, and he wanted her to know that. He looked into her eyes as he ground his hips against hers, letting her know how much he wanted her. He felt glorious as she gasped upon feeling his hard member press against her.
“Speak, Lavinia. Tell me what to do next,” he whispered in her ear. He felt her shiver as he gently nibbled on her earlobe.
“Kiss me,” she mumbled, as if she had lost her other words.
“Is that a proper way to ask a duke for a favor?” he teased.
He saw her jaw tick as she gritted her teeth. He smirked.
Miss Fitzroy took a deep breath. “Please, kiss me, Your Grace.”
At that, Peter obliged.
Lavinia stared into his eyes, full of longing, but before she could make out their color, his full lips crashed onto hers. She felt his hands wander.
She could not name the sensations he was making her feel. She never knew her body could feel such wonder. His fingers traced along the swell of her hips, moving upwards and then stopping before he could reach her breasts.
Her frustration rose at his obvious teasing—she wanted to feel him more. She wanted him to touch every inch of her as much as she wanted to feel every inch of him.
Her hand reached for his chest, her heart racing, feeling nervous at the slightest touch. However, she was new at this, and she was unsure how to respond. She wanted to reciprocate, but she remained unsure if it was appropriate or if she was allowed.
Suddenly, she felt him freeze. Or did he stop?
“Peter.” She uttered his name with desperation.
“Mmm,” he moaned.
Her mind flashed to places she hadn’t explored before at the sound.
She wanted to ask him to carry on, but there was something in her conservative nature that forcefully stopped her from asking for more.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded.
But Lavinia only remained silent.
He moved his lips away from her neck. She felt her frustration grow, and there was only one thing she could do to feel him once more. She knew she needed to ask.
“Please,” she begged.
She stared into his eyes. His hands began to feel her again. She shivered as they pressed into the small of her back.
“Please what?” he prompted.
Lavinia knew that she had to swallow her pride and say what she wanted.
“Please, do not stop.”
The Duke smirked, then he leaned forward and devoured her lips. Lavinia kissed him back, wondering if she was doing it right. But she was not hearing any complaints from him, so she was increasingly confident that he was feeling what she was feeling as well.
Their lips moved in sync, as if they were separate pieces of a puzzle that found each other once again.
She felt sweat drip down her back, soaking her dress.
Everything had become warm. There was a spot between her legs, near her core, that felt moist, and her lower abdomen pulsed with a dull, throbbing need.
Lavinia had known about kissing for so long, but she had never known that it could be so magical. She never knew that someone’s touch could send her to places. She had never imagined that she would be able to feel it herself.
She could never put into words how bewildering the press of someone’s lips against her own could be. The fear of making a mistake, and the pleasure that came and churned into bliss.
How could one’s lips ever make someone so happy?
She broke the kiss and stared at the Duke. When she saw the way his pupils dilated, she felt as if icy water was being poured over her.
What am I doing here? What have I done?
She panicked at the thought of being caught in the Duke’s room. She suddenly remembered the conversation she had with Lady St. Vincent, Mrs. Caulfield, and her mother regarding the Duke. She felt the jitters in her stomach.
“I must leave at once, Your Grace.” Lavinia turned away from him and flung the door open.
Her heart pounded hard in her chest. She did not know what to make of her predicament.
She wanted to experience passion and romance, but she was sure the Duke did not have the same things on his mind. He meant to seduce her, to kiss her senseless, to—
A sigh escaped her lips. Then, she pushed herself away from the Duke’s room and ran to her bedchambers.