Chapter 9 #2
He huffed out a rueful laugh. “I suppose I am. She drives me mad sometimes, but she’s always looked after me and cared for me and I don’t want to hurt her.
” He raked a hand through his hair, frustration lining his face.
“That’s why I feel so guilty for not giving her this marriage she wants so badly. ”
Justina squeezed his forearm again, sympathy warming her chest. He was an honorable man, and a loyal son. It was no wonder he was so conflicted.
“It is commendable that you care for your mother’s happiness so much,” she said quietly, “but, Gregory, there must be limits. You cannot give her what she wants if it goes against what you want. I’m sure she will come to understand that someday.”
He gave her a small smile. “I hope you’re right. My mother is a naturally stubborn woman, but I suppose anything is possible.”
Justina chuckled. “My mother was a stubborn woman, too.”
“Was?”
She nodded. “Scarlet fever took her and my father nearly ten years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
She’d loved her parents very much and missed them every day. Her mother was small but strong-willed, supportive and loving, always humming an off-key tune. Her father was more reserved, less emotive, but wise and kind-hearted with warm mahogany eyes.
“Speaking of wants,” Gregory said, his gaze on hers, “what is it that you want, Justina?”
The question took her by surprise, and instinct urged her to sidestep it, and give him a teasing half-answer instead.
But another part of her wanted to open up to this man, to share her innermost desires, her dreams for the future.
“I want to be happy,” she answered simply, though such a want was anything but simple.
“And what does happiness look like?”
She drew in a deep breath and shook her head. “I do not know. When Phillip was alive, I hoped for children, and I still do. Whether or not I will have them remains to be seen.”
The first year of their marriage, she and Phillip had tried for a baby with no luck, and then he became ill and all attempts ended as he grew weaker and sicker with the disease.
She hoped the issue with conceiving did not lie with her, but she wouldn’t know unless she married again and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for that.
“Do you want to marry again?” Gregory asked, as if reading her mind.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I honestly don’t know what I want from the future. Right now, however...” She slid closer to him and looped her arms around his neck. “I want a kiss from a handsome duke.”
She was finished with talk of marriage and future desires. She wanted to live in the moment, this moment, and enjoy her time with this man she was growing to care for more than she’d ever thought possible.
Shoving all thought aside, she kissed him hard, threading her fingers through his hair as she molded her lips to his. His arms clamped around her and he swept his tongue inside her mouth, licking deep.
Justina’s blood heated with every touch of his hands on her body, though she hated that she was clothed, hated even more that he was clothed, their skin cruelly separated by layers of silk and linen.
“Take off your coat,” she demanded, her fingers already reaching for his lapels. She couldn’t have him naked, but she would happily settle for a state of undress.
Gregory hastily removed his coat and cravat then tossed them across the carriage before tugging her into his lap.
She straddled him, yanking her skirts out of the way, and hissed when her core brushed the hard ridge of his cock through his trousers. She rocked against him, her hands gripping his shoulders as she tormented herself with the rough slide of linen against her most sensitive flesh.
“God, Justina, have a care,” Gregory panted, his voice rough as gravel.
Oh, how she loved the way he said her name when he wanted her.
“What is it?” she teased, grinding against him. “Does this not feel good?”
He grunted. “It feels too good. You’re driving me mad.”
“Shall I stop then?” She nipped his earlobe with her teeth then trailed a line of kisses down the column of his throat, inhaling the scent of spicy soap and warm, male skin.
She licked his collarbone, satisfying the craving to taste him, all the while grinding against him.
“God, don’t stop, Justina,” Gregory pleaded. “Never stop.”
Justina kissed him, reaching between their bodies to undo the buttons of his falls. His cock sprang free and she took him in hand, giving his length a long, sure stroke.
He let out a strangled groan against her lips as he tugged at the bodice of her gown, freeing her breasts. He cupped her as she stroked him, palming her, his thumbs grazing her aching nipples until she could scarcely breathe.
“I need you,” he rasped. “I need to be inside you. Give me your cunny, Justina.”
Though his words set her afire, she couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. Clucking her tongue, she eyed him coyly. “Your Grace, what would your mother say?”
He huffed out a half-laugh half-groan. “Please don’t talk about my mother right now.”
Grinning, she kissed him as she lowered herself onto his cock, a groan escaping her as she took him inch by slow inch.
“You feel so good,” he whispered against her ear before trailing hot kisses down her throat.
Gripping his shoulders, she began to move, slowly at first then more frenzied as desire coiled tighter and tighter, spurring her on.
Gregory gripped her hips and met her thrust for thrust, his fingers digging into her flesh in a way that drove her wild.
The first wave of release struck her hard, and she clenched around him, her head snapping back as she moaned his name.
Gregory swept her off his lap and onto the seat, covering her mouth with his as he pumped into her again and again before pulling free and spilling his seed on her thigh.
He leaned down and kissed her, then pulled back and gazed into her eyes. “You’re incredible,” he said gruffly. “And incredibly beautiful.”
He cupped her cheek and Justina’s heart squeezed at the tender caress and the warm admiration shining in his eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispered, grateful when he looked away and collected the cravat he’d tossed aside earlier, using it to wipe her clean.
No further words were spoken as they snuggled up close on the seat, and it was only a few minutes spent in his arms before she drifted off to sleep with her head on his shoulder.