Chapter 30
“Iam yours, am I not?” Joanna could not help but grin as she decided to toy with him a little more. “I believe you promised to find me a husband when the Season is over. Therefore, I belong to my future husband, don’t I?”
His expression darkened into a menacing look that would probably have the rest of the ton quaking with terror. But it only filled her with delight.
“Of course, I am sure his property will not be as nice as Blackwell,” she said.
“But that hardly matters. I am used to more modest living arrangements anyway. I have been told that what matters most between husband and wife is strength and endurance. So I hope you can find me a husband who can keep up with me.”
He lowered a hand to her leg, where he grabbed a fistful of her skirts. “You should not push me like this, little mouse. You are playing with fire.”
“Yeah? Maybe I will enjoy getting burned.” She smiled up at him.
He growled as he shoved her back so she was lying on her back on the table. She only had the time to prop herself up on her elbows to see him shove her skirt up to her waist. The cool air touched her skin. The feeling of being so vulnerable to him was overwhelming.
He rested his hands on her bare thighs, gripping them tight enough to bruise as he leaned forward to kiss her.
His mouth was hot and urgent as his tongue found its way into her mouth.
She moaned in response as her body started to shake.
The feeling of him was completely overwhelming.
All she could think about was his musky scent, the way his lips felt against hers, and his bare hands on her thighs, holding her still.
His mouth broke off from her own, and he kissed a trail of fire from her lips down to the crook of her neck.
“You have the power to make a man go mad, Joanna,” he whispered in her ear.
“I pride myself on control in all aspects of my life. But something about you makes me want to abandon all sense as soon as possible.” He licked her earlobe, and her entire body shook with the force of pleasure that shocked her entire system.
He growled in response to that. “You are mine, Joanna. All mine.” One of his hands started to move upward on her thigh as he whispered urgent words in her ear.
“It doesn’t matter that other men want you, or even if you look at them.
None of them will ever be able to make you feel like this.
You will always know, in your heart, that you belong to me, and me alone. ” Then his hand was between her thighs.
Joanna cried out as he touched her most intimate area. She tossed her head back in ecstasy, but he wasn’t satisfied. His fingers moved over her wet folds to find the sensitive little pearl in between them.
Joanna had only dared to explore herself between her legs a few times in the dead of night because it made her feel absolutely wicked. But even the meager pangs of pleasure she managed to stir up within herself could not compare to the fire that Evan was igniting within her.
He watched her closely, drinking in her expressions like a man possessed, as he stroked carefully. He seemed to know just what to do to drive her to madness. “Come on, Joanna,” he said. “Give in to me. You know that’s what you want. You know you belong to me.”
With one more swipe of his thumb, pleasure exploded through her with more force than a windstorm. She cried out as her entire body shook. She stared up at him without actually seeing him. Instead, she was only able to focus on the waves of ecstasy cresting over her.
He kept his hand on her sex until the waves finally started to subside.
Then he removed his hand and stepped back.
“You look absolutely stunning when you surrender to me,” he said.
He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked off every evidence of her sweet nectar. The sight of it made Joanna whimper.
“I… I didn’t know it could feel like that,” she said, her voice shaking.
He smiled. “It can feel like that with the right partner.”
She moved to get off the table, but her body felt like it was a million pounds. Joanna set to work putting on her jewelry and gloves again, to make sure there was no evidence of what they had just done.
Now that the warmth of pleasure was starting to fade, she felt cold. Tendrils of loneliness crept up inside her, and she cursed herself for her foolishness. How exactly was she supposed to guard her heart and let him give her unimaginable pleasure at the same time?
A knock on the door startled her. She looked at Evan, whose appearance was as impeccable and unruffled as ever. “Enter,” he said, sounding absolutely bored.
The door opened, and the footman entered with the same unreadable expression as before. “Her Grace and Mr. Swinton have returned from the theater, Your Grace.”
“Thank you,” Evan said, nodding. After the footman left, he looked at Joanna ruefully. “It appears our evening is winding down to a close, my lady.”
She glanced at the clock and panic seized her chest when she realized the time.
It was after midnight. “Oh, my goodness! I need to leave immediately or my parents will wonder where I am. Goodnight, Your Grace.” She hurried out of the room.
With some luck, she would be able to avoid Peter and the dowager duchess and get a carriage back to Clifford Manor.
She hurried down the stairs and made it almost to the entrance when she heard a shout from behind her. “Miss Thorne!”
She turned to see Peter jogging to catch up with her. He looked a little flustered.
She blushed and quickly gave him a curtsy. “Good evening,” she said. “I hope you had a pleasant time at the theater.”
“I did. And I trust you had a pleasant dinner with my brother.”
Her cheeks burned brightly. She wondered if Peter knew what she and Evan were up to. It was scandalous enough for the two of them to have dinner alone with each other, not to mention the wicked games they played later…
Now is certainly not the time to think about that!
Peter smiled at her cordially, as if it was a normal occurrence for young ladies to be running out of his brother’s house. “His Grace told me to get you home safely. Do not worry, Miss Thorne. I promise to be completely discreet.”
She smiled gratefully. “Thank you, sir.” She would much rather have Peter escort her home than try to find a carriage on her own at this hour.
The estate’s personal carriage was still in front of the house, along with the driver. Peter smiled cordially at the man. “I am afraid we have one more stop tonight, Charles. Clifford Manor.”
“Very well, sir,” the man said, nodding. He helped Joanna into the carriage before Peter climbed in. A moment later, the carriage started to move.
Joanna leaned back in the seat, feeling quite tired. She looked out the window, watching the streets go by. Peter stayed quiet instead of pushing for conversation. Perhaps he was just as content to watch the scenery as she was.
Not five minutes later, it began to rain. Drops of water fell from the sky to make the street glitter in the lamplight. She remembered what Evan said about disliking the rain. “His Grace is in the library right now, isn’t he?”
Peter seemed to startle at the sound of her voice, and then he raised an eyebrow at her. “He told you that?” he sounded incredulous.
“Well, he told me that he goes to the library when it rains, so he doesn’t hear or see it. He said he detests the rain. Is it not true?”
“No, it’s true,” Peter said. “The rain is his least favorite thing, and he will go out of his way to keep away from it. It is just not something that he goes around telling people. He must feel close to you.”
Joanna lowered her head shyly. She would not know how close she truly was to the duke. Sometimes, he was a difficult man to read. “I would not say that, Mr. Swinton,” she said quietly.
Peter studied her, almost as if he was seeing her in an entirely different light. She had to resist the urge to squirm under his speculative gaze. “Why does His Grace dislike the rain so much?”
The man grimaced and looked away for a moment before sighing.
His eyes met hers once again, and they were filled with unimaginable sadness.
Then he blinked, and the look was gone. The emotional turmoil left Joanna reeling.
Whatever happened, it affected Peter almost as much as Evan.
“It’s not my place to tell,” he said. “Perhaps he will tell you one day.”
She smiled softly and shook her head. “Unless he plans to tell me before the end of the Season, then I am sure I will never know. But no matter. I don’t have the habit of sticking my nose in other people’s personal business, and I should not start now. I am sorry I asked.”
He smirked. “You think you will not see my brother after the end of the Season?”
Joanna swallowed. She had not realized her slip-up when she said it off-handedly.
But Evan had stayed true to his word about keeping their business arrangement a secret.
He had not even told his own brother. “I am afraid the duke and I have been deceiving you and the rest of the ton. We do not have a real courtship, and it will end with the Season.”
Peter nodded. “I expected as much. My brother is very resistant to the idea of marriage. He gets to enjoy the Season without our dear grandmother arranging dates for him, and you get to re-enter society.”
Joanna looked down. “It is more than party invitations,” she said. “His Grace has been very generous with me. My sister has her debut Season next year, and thanks to your brother’s generosity, she will have a proper Season.”
She felt ashamed admitting her family’s obvious financial troubles out loud, but Peter simply smiled kindly at her. “I am glad to hear it. I must say, I believe my brother is smitten with you. Otherwise, he would not have gone through so much trouble for you and your sister.”
Joanna’s brow furrowed. “Didn’t you just hear me? The courtship is a ruse!”
He chuckled. “Yes, I heard you. But I know your private dinner tonight was part of no deception. He truly cares for you, Miss Thorne. And I am overjoyed to see him so happy. I think the two of you are a good match.”
A lump formed in Joanna’s throat. She tried to swallow it away, but to no avail. “This might be true, but it is still going to end,” she said, her voice husky with sorrow.
Peter shrugged as the carriage pulled to a stop outside Clifford Manor. “That depends on you and my brother, doesn’t it? There is no need for it to end if the two of you wish otherwise.” He inclined his head at her. “Goodnight, Miss Thorne.”
She nodded as the carriage door opened, and the driver came out to help her down. “Goodnight, Mr. Swinton.”