Chapter 9
Cora paced back and forth in the library, furious that Damion wasn’t there yet. How dare he order her to meet him and then be late? The blasted man was driving her mad. She pressed her lips together, remembering seeing him with Lady Clark.
Truthfully, it didn’t matter. Christopher was going to ask for her. Cora wanted that and had her entire life. It frustrated her that even with her goal being so close, her mind was on Damion. The lessons were the cause of all of her confusion.
The door clicked open, and she turned. He entered dressed only in his shirt, pants, and boots. He’d discard his cravat at some point. His informality in her presence should have outraged her, but it felt normal. No. No. No. She would not fall for Damion.
“Good evening, Cora,” he said, walking to a table and pouring himself a brandy and her a wine.
“Why am I here?”
“You appeared upset earlier,” he stated.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I was overcome with excitement because Christopher kissed me.”
He took a large gulp of his brandy. His eyes flared with anger. “Overcome?”
“Yes,” she said, taking a sip of her own wine.
It had been nice and wonderful, but the actual word “overcome” was probably a stretch. Honestly, she knew it was. No, the kiss that still lingered in her mind came from the man standing in front of her. How many ladies had he made just as breathless? At least, Lady Clark she bet.
He placed his drink on the mantel of the fireplace and stepped toward her. “Bellamy may be who you want because of some irrational idea of how you think things should be but admit he doesn’t inspire passion in you.”
She slammed her wine down. The red liquid sloshed as it hit the surface of a small side table. This man thought he knew everything. “He inspires a passion in me that you would never understand.”
He glowered, moving toward her. Cora stepped back as he advanced until her back smacked the wall. Damion pressed his hand against the wall near her head. “You long for him? He makes an ache flare between your thighs?”
Cora’s eyes widened at his words. He smirked at her and leaned closer. “When he walks by, you fantasize about your body pushed against his? You long to have him buried deep within you?”
She swallowed. No one had ever spoken to her in such a way. And to her horror, an ache bloomed in her lower half. This man was such an unwelcome distraction. She’d been foolish to ask for his assistance.
Lying, Cora bit out. “Yes. It is something so pure and heartfelt a man like you would never understand it.”
He touched his mouth to her cheek and leaned his body along hers. She forced herself not to moan. “It is shameful to hear such lies on your lips.”
Their lips were only a breath apart. Her anger and desire warred with each other. She should tell him goodbye and leave. Her tongue darted out and ran across her lower lip.
He groaned, “Why are you such a temptation?
Cora didn’t respond because his lips were on hers—demanding and hungry.
She should hate his touch, but her entire body spurned such a thought.
No, she felt desired and needed. She wouldn’t think about what that meant.
Rational thoughts and his touch were too much.
She slid her tongue into his mouth, taking what she wanted.
He gasped with delight and pressed himself harder against her. Her most feminine area became more heightened with wanton need. Damion broke from their kiss and dropped his mouth along her throat. She tilted her head back and allowed him to feast on her.
He murmured. “Tell me you don’t crave this, Cora. Tell me you don’t think of me when you are alone at night, and I will walk out of this room right now.”
She gripped his arm, unable to fathom him leaving right now. He chuckled darkly, but she was too fixated on needing him to be angry. He yanked at the tie of her wrap and pushed it off and away. His fingers clutched her nightgown and slowly pulled it up.
The cool air hit her legs, and she kissed him. Their mouths mashed together as one of his hands slid along her bare hip. Was she really bare waist up right now in front of Damion? She didn’t care. He leaned forward more, dipping down and pressing his shaft still in his pants between her thighs.
Cora saw stars. God, why did this feel so good with him? She ground into him, needing more of the sensation. Still, he moved back a little, and a whimper escaped her.
“You, my sweet Cora, are meant to be brought to the heights of pleasure,” he said.
Cora didn’t know what that meant, but she wanted it. Right now. His hand slid closer to the apex of her thighs as her hips rocked. He went back to kissing her throat as his fingers reached her quim. He applied pressure, and she whimpered, pleasure shooting across her stomach and downward.
Her eyes locked with Damion’s. She expected to see victory on his face, but instead all she saw was tenderness and desire.
Something wanton and moving filled the space around them.
He applied pressure to her sensitive nub with his thumb, and she cried out.
Cora wanted more. Quietly, Damion said, “You must be quiet, my Cora. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she said as his thumb continued to stroke her.
Her hips bucked under his touch. Damion slid two of his other fingers in her, and she pushed her back against the wall. The ache throbbed within her. “Damion, I need more.”
He withdrew his fingers from her wet center and lifted Cora, wrapping her legs around him.
His cock still in his pants pressed against her quim.
She moaned and he thrusted. Cora tilted her head back and reveled in the sensations coursing through her body.
He continued to grind into her. The ache was so heightened. “Please, more.”
His thrusts quickened, and Cora wondered what it would be like to have him truly deep within her. She wanted that. Clinging to him, she almost cried out loudly during his next thrusts. Damion covered her mouth with his, drowning out the sounds.
The throbbing in her lower half reached a heightened precipice and then exploded.
She broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and tilted her head against the wall.
The ache now pulsated through her entire body.
She’d never felt anything like it. Cora's eyes connected with the man who’d given her so much pleasure.
It wasn’t Christopher but Damion—one of London’s most wayward dukes.
Confusion filled her. Damion released her legs and stepped back.
They both attempted to catch their breath as desire and need hung heavily in the air.
She should have been horrified by their actions, but the only thing she felt was a deep, hungry longing to be in his arms again.
Damion cleared his throat and said, “Cora, I took that too far. I will do the right thing by you.”
She flinched at his practical words. Cora wouldn’t be the second woman Damion married that he didn’t love. “No.”
He frowned at her. “Cora, don’t be foolish. I pretty much fucked you.”
“But you didn’t. I want to marry someone who wants a wife. Do you want that?”
“A man can change his mind.”
She smiled sadly at him before grabbing her wrap and putting it on. “Not from one moment.”
“Cora—”
“I must go. Please don’t worry about me. This was a bit of madness for both of us. You want your freedom, and I want to be married to my family friend.”
His eyes darkened at her statement. “You don’t want him.”
Cora’s eyes watered. “I also don’t want a proposal from a man because he believes he is honor-bound to do so.”
Damion shook his head, but she didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Good night, Damion.”
Cora rushed down the hallway, up the stairs, and into her bedroom. She flopped down in a wingback chair in her room. What had she done? She closed her eyes, and the pleasure she had felt in Damion’s arms coursed through her.
Cora’s eyes flew open. She wouldn’t dwell on Damion even if he offered marriage.
He didn’t want another wife. Still, now, she wasn’t so sure she could wed Christoper either.
Not when she knew she could feel so much more for another.
She sat in the chair, pondering what it meant that she had such an intense connection to the Duke of Blythe.
***
Damion stood in Stanton’s study, waiting for his friend. He’d asked the butler to fetch him. He wanted to formally tell Stanton that he planned to court Cora. He would be surprised but Damion hoped accepting.
He’d stayed in the library long after Cora departed the previous evening. Somewhat in shock but also confused about all that transpired with her. He’d never felt so strongly about another woman. Even now, his body craved hers. It wasn’t just a physical thing.
Still, he’d bungled a proposal between them. She seemed upset when he asked. He would do better. Damion wanted to for her. Stanton walked in, taking him away from his thoughts.
“I have failed, my friend. I haven’t found a single lady to court.”
Damion said, “Take your time. You will know when it is right.”
Stanton sighed. “I fear I’m being too picky. Well, at least, my mother will get one marriage out of this party.”
Shock filled him. “Did your sister accept Bellamy’s offer?”
“Almost. They are meeting on the terrace. He intends to propose to her. My mother is beside herself with excitement.”
Why did it feel like Damion’s heart was shattering? He knew why. He wanted Cora for himself, and it wasn’t just desire. His heart wanted her. Damion swallowed hard. He wouldn’t dare think the word love. Not when the lady was preparing to choose another man.
“Will she accept?”
A bark of laughter escaped Stanton. “She has been waiting to wed Bellamy for so long. I was skeptical about the match, but he assured me that he only wants her. Cora has always loved him, so I suppose it has all worked out.”
Selfishly, Damion wanted to tell Stanton he compromised Cora so he could have her. Still, he was a better man than that. He’d already forced one lady to marry him who loved another. He wouldn’t do it again.
Stanton plopped down in his chair behind his desk. “What did you want to speak with me about?”
“I’m leaving. Something came up in London. Can you have your staff return my things to the city?”
His friend frowned. “Can I offer my assistance?”
The absurdity of Stanton’s question almost made him laugh out loud. No, he couldn’t help Damion. He’d fallen for his friend’s sister, and she planned to marry another. Damion was a fool, but he still wouldn’t stand in the way of Cora’s happiness.
He’d done that to Lily. Damion had been unaware of his deceased wife’s feelings when they wed; he couldn’t say the same about Cora. No, she’d been honest since the first moment they met in the library. She wanted Bellamy. “No. It is nothing serious. Thank you.”
“Well, let’s have drinks when I return to London.”
Damion walked to the door but turned back. “I think you are wise to wait for the right person. Stay the course.”
Stanton grinned. “Thank you.”
He strode down the hallway and couldn’t help stepping into the drawing room where the windows overlooked the terrace. A few people milled around. At first, he didn’t spot Cora or Bellamy, but then he caught sight of them standing off to the side.
His heart twisted because she stared up at him with a large smile. Had he already asked? Damion wanted to storm onto the terrace and demand Cora marry him, but he didn’t. She should choose whoever she wanted.
Bellamy laughed at something she said, and Damion turned away. He headed toward the front door but stopped when he reached the butler. “I must leave. Stanton said my things could be sent at a later date.”
The man bowed. “Of course, Your Grace. I will ensure it all makes it back to London.”
Damion hurried to the stables, needing to leave the Stanton Country Estate as quickly as possible.
Honestly, he needed to escape from the impending betrothal of Cora and Bellamy.
He couldn’t be a witness to the announcement.
Damion was a damn fool because he’d fallen for Cora and not even realized it.
He reached the stables and asked a stablehand to ready his horse. Damion paced as he waited, ready to leave. He gritted his teeth, wanting to snap at the workers to hurry, but knew it wasn’t their fault. Finally, his horse was ready.
Damion pulled himself up on his ride and galloped away like the hounds of hell chased him. In truth, he was fleeing so he wouldn’t interrupt Cora’s much-wanted betrothal and tell her to choose him.