Chapter 16 #2
The duke stood alone near the stone balustrade, the moon carving the sharp line of his jaw, the shadows settling around him like a cloak he was born to wear. His head turned at the sound of her footsteps, and his eyes found her instantly.
He did not move as she approached, though the tension that rolled through him was unmistakable. When she reached him, he glanced down at her dance card and stilled.
“Falchester,” he muttered, and something dark flickered over his expression, a quiet, lethal displeasure.
Without asking, without even pretending to ask, he reached for the card, drew a line straight through Falchester’s name, and wrote his own in its place.
“Your Grace!” Isabella gasped.
“Yes?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.
“You cannot do that!” She protested.
“I already have,” His gaze lifted, locking onto hers with unnerving intensity.
She snatched the card back. “You cannot meddle in my life like this! You have no right—”
“I know,” he cut in sharply. “I know I have no right.”
His chest rose, breath ragged, as if something inside him had finally splintered.
“But I cannot stop myself.”
The admission shocked her into silence, and he took one step toward her.
“You have burrowed into every corner of my mind, Isabella. Every quiet moment, every waking thought. I cannot escape you. I cannot think. I cannot breathe without you intruding…”
The beat of her heart thundered in her ears.
Cassian swallowed hard. “You have no idea what you do to me. What I imagine—” He stopped abruptly, dragging in a harsh breath. “What I cannot allow myself to imagine.”
“Then… tell me.” Isabella’s lips parted.
His jaw clenched almost painfully.
“Lady Isabella—”
“What do you imagine?” she asked softly, innocently.
His eyes darkened. Something wild and restrained tore through him. “You do not understand what you are asking.”
“Then explain it,” she whispered. “Why do you push me away so fiercely?”
He looked at her as though the answer itself tormented him.
“Because I am not good for you. I… There is a darkness in me. A darkness that a woman like you shouldn’t be exposed to.”
“What does that mean?”
He inhaled sharply, as if her nearness made breathing an effort. “It means I do not fare well with women who challenge me. Or tempt me. Or buy me thoughtful gifts that undo me.”
Her pulse stumbled.
He stepped closer, shadows and moonlight wrapping around them both. “It means I fail, every time, to remain honorable. Especially when it comes to you.”
“And do I look,” she murmured, “like a woman who would be afraid of such darkness?”
He shut his eyes for a heartbeat, pained and undone. “No.”
She reached for him then, not touching, just close enough to feel the warmth between them. “Cassian.”
His eyes snapped open.
It was the second time she had spoken his name so freely, and its effect was immediate. The first had been during their kiss, and the sound had almost made him come undone.
His restraint shattered.
He closed the distance between them slowly, with the quiet inevitability of a storm descending.
“Isabella,” he whispered, stepping so close she could feel the heat of him, the scent of him, the wild turmoil he no longer hid. “You want to know what I imagine?”
Her breath trembled. “Yes.”
He reached up, his knuckles brushing the side of her jaw, feather-light but devastating.
“I imagine,” he said lowly, “how your breath would sound when I kiss the base of your throat. How you’d lean into me… without thinking.”
Her knees weakened.
“I imagine the way you’d tremble,” he went on, “when I trace my hands down your waist. How soft you would feel beneath my palms.”
Isabella’s pulse hammered.
“And I imagine,” he said, voice dropping, “how you would look if I pushed you against the wall behind you, how your lips would part, how your body would arch, how you would—”
He stopped suddenly, jaw locking so tightly she thought it might crack.
She swallowed.
“Cassian… what if I…?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “What if I would like that?”
Every muscle in him went taut. She could see it by the way a vein suddenly appeared in his neck and the stiffening of his jaw.
Slowly, almost reverently, Cassian stepped forward, and her back brushed the cold stone of the terrace wall as she, too, willingly took a step back.
He lifted one hand to brace beside her head, caging her in.
The other hovered at her waist, not yet touching, as if he was held back by the last thread of restraint he possessed.
“Isabella,” he said hoarsely, “if you keep speaking like that—”
She bit her lip, eyes shining in the moonlight. “Then what?”
His breath faltered. “Then I will not stop.”
His hand finally settled on her waist, warm, firm, undeniably possessive. She inhaled sharply at the contact, and his eyes dropped to her lips like a man starved.
He leaned in.
And their lips crashed together. The kiss was nothing like the first. This one was fierce, consuming, shattering. He kissed her as though it was with all the frustration he had swallowed for weeks.
Isabella melted into him, her hands gripping his coat, pulling him closer, closer still. His arm curled around her waist, drawing her sharply against him, and she gasped into his mouth.
He groaned—deep, low, tortured.
His lips trailed to her jaw, to the sensitive place beneath her ear. She felt the heat of his breath, the dangerous intent in every movement of his hands.
“God help me, Isabella,” he groaned painfully against her neck. “But I cannot stop.” The longing in his voice was all too tortured as it echoed the hungry consent in her heart.
Isabella had never heard a thing like that in her entire life. She shivered under his touch, her body coming alive in a way she never thought possible.
His lips trailed down her neck, her chest, until he was on his knees with her skirts gathered in his large hands, the fabric bunched in his fists.
“Cassian, what—”
“Let me show you,” he whispered like a prayer to her, and without hesitation, he lifted her skirts and quickly worked his way up her thighs.
Isabella shivered, although she wasn’t sure if it was the cool winter air or Cassian’s tongue that caused it. His tongue tantalized her flesh, which sent currents of desire through her.
“You taste so sweet,” Cassian moaned from beneath her, and the sheer wantonness of it all became her undoing.
Under the overwhelming pleasure, her legs gave out, and she slipped, but Cassian caught her, chuckling darkly.
“Hold on to me.”
And she did, gripping the short locs of his soft hair as he drove her mad with desire. His tongue flicked and caressed in even strokes until she felt as if her body would explode.
“Oh, Cassian,” she cried out softly as she pulled his hair slightly, earning herself a groan that sent shivers down her spine as she pushed his head deeper between her thighs.
How had she lived her life without knowing such pleasure existed?
Her body bucked the faster his tongue went, setting her body in a rhythm until it gave a surprise jerk, and then her legs turned to liquid.
What was that?
She breathed heavily as she leaned her head back against the wall and allowed Cassian to support her weight. Every muscle in her body tingled as the explosion continued to carry her away.