The Duchess Diaries: The Bridal Pleasures Series (24 page)

“How did you get in the house?”

“Your—”

He clapped his hand to his head. “Don’t tell me. Let me take a wild guess. It was Shelby.”

“Yes, but—”

“Two hours, you say. For what? Let me guess again. You think that in two hours you will be able to talk me out of the duel tomorrow.”

“If there is any way—”

“Try it. Do your best.” He reached out and unfastened her cloak. “Convince me. But bear in mind that my butler will be upset if there isn’t a duel tomorrow.”

Her eyes clung to his. “I don’t want blood to be spilled over me. Is that unreasonable?”

He lowered his head to hers. “Dearest, would you feel better if I promise to shoot him in a part of his body where the wound will not show?”

“I…” She threw her arms around his neck and drew his head to hers.

Despite his anger at her motives, he found himself aroused by her inexpert attempt at seduction. He felt his cock thicken uncomfortably in his trousers. The blood in his veins came to a boil and surged. The dominant male in him would take anything she offered, delaying conscience for another day. The pleasures of the night reigned for now.

“Gideon, please,” she whispered against his mouth. “For the sake of decency—”

“Decency is the last thing on my mind. And on yours, it appears.”

“It’s dangerous for you to duel.”

“Not as dangerous as it is for you to be in the position you are right now.”

“Then I—”

“No. You’re here now.”

His mouth absorbed her involuntary cry as he drew her down against him on the carpet. He harbored the softer curves of her breasts and belly against his body. For a moment he simply reveled in her captivity, in the sultry heat that rose from her skin. She gave a tentative push of her shoulder against his. He gripped her buttocks, and his body went hard. He shifted, raising his knee to nudge her to his thickening shaft.

“Gideon?” she whispered, her mouth slipping from his.

She hadn’t even lifted her head when he turned her onto her back and with indolent deliberation unhooked her cloak and then the front of her gown. He swiftly stayed the hand she raised to shield her breasts from his scrutiny. He lowered his head and drew one tender nipple at a time between his teeth. She made a sound in her throat that destroyed his control and set his fiercer instincts loose.

“You came here to make a case, Charlotte.” He reached down to raise the ruffled hem of her dress. “I think I should hear your pleas before I decide what I’ll do next. If I can still think in a few moments, that is.”

She smiled the dreamy smile that unfailingly disarmed him. “You’ve been drinking brandy,” she murmured as his hand climbed from her ankle and past her knee. “I can taste it on your lips.”

“I’m dying to devour you,” he said, lifting her dress up past her rounded belly to expose her silky triangle of hair. His fingers slid up her thigh and parted her plump flesh. Her moisture glistened upon his hand as he played her with shameless enjoyment.

“Oh.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, a sob escaping her. He smiled. She turned her head and closed her eyes, her back arching in a pose that made his heart race.

“Raise your knees,” he said quietly. “And open your legs for me. What did you want to tell me?”

“I…can’t remember.”

His body clenched, every muscle wound tight, as she obeyed, the fire’s glow highlighting the warm hollow that drew his fascinated gaze.

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” she whispered, her hips slowly rotating in a sensuality that sent his pulse soaring.

“But I’m not,” he said, positioning himself at a perfect angle between her upraised legs. From here he could study her slightest response. He eased one finger at a time into her soaked heat, his blood flaring, a river of fire racing through his veins.

Her belly tensed. She pressed her knees together to fight his invasion, then slowly yielded to his demand. “Delicious,” he said, his eyes heavy-lidded with unconcealed encouragement as he savored her, concentrated his every sense on forcing her complete surrender.

“Decadent,” she whispered, twisting at the waist in a bid to interrupt his play.

He shook his head, and her grasp loosened; her eyes locked with his in a small war he would not let her win. He drew in a slow breath. The perfume of her desire intoxicated
him. He raked his thumb through her wispy curls to tease her where she was most sensitive and responsive to his touch.

He watched her intently. The pressure built inside her. He saw her hips twist, her belly contract. The pink tips of her breasts darkened to deep rose, tempting him beyond what he could resist. He lifted his other hand to tug and twist each nipple, deliberately heightening the havoc he inflicted on her.

She shuddered, spreading her legs even farther apart to ride his hand, gasping as he flicked his thumb faster. “I can’t,” she whispered brokenly. “It’s too much, Gideon.”

“I know,” he soothed her. But it wasn’t enough for him.

“I want…I want…” she said, moving her hips now in time with the relentless caress of his thumb.

“I know,” he murmured again. “I know what you want.” His rod strained and pulsed in rampant demand. He summoned his will and focused his skill on unleashing her senses. She was so close he could feel her muscles tensing in the silent torment that heralded release.

God help him. Her sobs punctuated her broken exhalations of breath. She lifted her hips and a powerful lust blanketed his awareness. Soon. Soon.
Now
. His thumb moved faster. She wasn’t in control; he was. His fingers penetrated her folds, drove so deeply into her warmth that he felt the cresting pleasure of her climax as if it were his own.

He closed his eyes, lowering his forehead to her knee. The part of his mind capable of thought took note that she was wearing plain cotton stockings, a testament to the fact that she needed no adornments to reduce him to a primitive state.

He stood, breathing hard, willing his body to settle down. He was afraid to touch her again. He was hesitant to even look at her. He stared into the fire. The thought of taking her maidenhood would keep him awake for the rest of the night. He might as well not even try to sleep. Whatever she had hoped to accomplish by coming here hadn’t worked.

She sat up. He glanced back instinctively and realized that she hadn’t drawn her chemise over her plump breasts or rehooked her bodice. She looked tousled and…just like the unrestrained temptress of a few moments before.

“What are you thinking?” she whispered, her eyes climbing from his boots to his face.

“That I need to sit in a cold bath until my b— my body turns blue.”

“You’ll stimulate your blood by cold bathing this time of night,” she said.

His gaze dropped to her breasts. “I doubt a bath could be more stimulating than you.”

“Have you reconsidered the duel?” she asked, and he’d be damned if she wasn’t deliberately planning to provoke him by not even pretending to shield herself from his scrutiny.

He laughed. “No. All you’ve done is convince me that I don’t want another man anywhere near you.”

She looked chagrined. “Well, I will have to try another tactic. A more persuasive one.”

“I am persuaded more than ever that you need protection against men like Phillip, if not like me.”

“You mean you let me act like one of your trollops and had no intention of changing your mind?”

“Basically.”

“That is unconscionable.”

“Probably.”

“You led me to believe that if I distracted you I could influence your decision.”

“I never said any such thing, darling. That was your intention, not mine.”

“Well, you certainly led
me
to believe you were enjoying yourself.”

“I was. Immensely. I could have enjoyed myself that way for the rest of the night. But you see, despite your charm, I will fight a duel in the morning, and if I feel like a ravenous beast right now, I doubt my mood will improve before dawn.”

“Sit down on the couch, Gideon.”

He stared at her, his brow furrowing at her deep tone of voice. He remained motionless. He watched her hand drift down to her breasts, her tapered fingers touching the tip of her nipple.

“Please,” she said with a siren’s smile.

“Why?” he asked, almost dropping to the floor to beg for mercy.

She shrugged. If she had decided to lecture him, he would retaliate by pretending to fall asleep.

“Fine,” he said tersely. “I’ll sit. But I’m not of an attitude to pay attention.”

That was what he had thought.

Charlotte had set her mind on seduction. But after what he had just done to her, she was more than a woman on an unselfish mission. She was a woman giving herself to her desires.

It was daring to perform an act that she had seen only
in a picture on a man of Gideon’s expertise. He might mock her unskilled efforts.

And hopefully she would change his mind about the duel.

But if he liked it, she was one step closer to proving that he was not marrying the reserved maiden she had been when they met. She would come to this marriage fully prepared to satisfy his needs. And hers.

She slid to the floor, balancing on her knees, her hands lifting to slide down his chest to his stomach. His head jerked back. She was unsure how to go about unfastening his trousers, but at her hesitant try, his face darkened in disbelieving comprehension and he took over the task himself.

She watched avidly as he eased his pants down over his narrow hips to the tops of his boots. He was hard and well sculpted and beautiful.

His phallus rose thick and straight from the dark hair that grew beneath his flat belly. “Go on,” he said, his breath a rasp that sent shivers through her. “Touch me.”

She lifted her hands to wrap her fingers around the base of his organ. He sat forward, staring down at her, his face incredulous, dark with elemental desire.

“Are you going to take me in your mouth?” he asked in a raw voice.

“Hmm.” She sighed, and very gently leaned closer to lick the entire length of him from the base of his engorged shaft to its head.

“Jesus God,” he said, his hips bucking at the exquisite sensations that inundated him. He had never felt or seen anything as erotic as her soft pink mouth closing around the crest of his cock and sucking him for all she was worth. He slid to the very edge of the couch, jerking involuntarily
when she took him even deeper into her mouth. He closed his eyes; then he opened them. He wanted to see her sucking and circling back to the knobby tip of his erection.

She was beautiful. He stared at her down-bent head, her hair flowing to her rounded breasts and her swollen nipples.

“You’d better stop now,” he warned her, tempted to thrust and let her swallow him whole. Where had she learned this? Was she a natural wanton at heart? He hoped so. What more could he want than a wife who was as sensually adventurous as she was caring and untainted and…sweet?

“Am I doing this the way you like it?” she whispered, and gave him no chance to reply before resuming her welcome assault and bringing him to the brink.

“I like it so much I am going to come in your mouth if you don’t stop,” he said, his belly drawing tight.

But she didn’t. And he allowed her to continue, losing all sense of time.

She kept up the blissful agony, and the tension inside him kept building, intensifying. She must have sensed it. Her lips closed tightly, her tongue flicking, and she drew at him harder, faster. And then he knew it was too late to stop.

He spread his thighs and closed his eyes, climaxing in spasms of helpless release that he was afraid would never end.

But they did. The act had drained him. It had also invigorated him. It filled his body and soul with a satisfaction, a rightness, that he had not known he could feel.

And it was more than gratitude for a sexual act. It was a sign that she would go to any lengths to please him.

“Thank you,” he said, putting his head back and breathing out a sigh. “I will sleep well tonight.” He fumbled back with his hand and found a clean handkerchief in his vest pocket. He unfolded it and slowly forced himself to move.

She quietly made herself presentable and smoothed back her hair. “I’m glad,” she said. “You can sleep through the morning. I’ll have Devon—”

He leaned toward her. He gently wiped the side of her mouth and chin, staring into her eyes. “You will do nothing of the sort. I’m fighting that duel, and nothing is going to stop me.”

“The pair of you should sit down over coffee and hammer your differences out like—”

“Charlotte, sweetheart, do I tell you how to conduct your etiquette classes? Do I suggest that you teach the language of the fan in a manner that gentlemen, aside from Sir Godfrey, can understand it?”

“True gentlemen
do
understand it.”

“Maybe I’m not refined at heart.”

“Refinement is an art that requires practice.”

“Teach me at a later time,” he said quietly, unable to stop looking at her.

“Then my visit tonight was a mockery of your respect for me.”

“I assure you, nothing I did was to mock you.”

“My female charms have failed to persuade you.”

“On the contrary, your female charms are the reason I am fighting this duel.”

“And there is nothing I can do to stop you?”

“Not—” He cut himself off, turning his head. “Hush a moment. Did you hear anything at the window?”

She listened for a few moments. “It’s probably only
rain. The window looks a little steamy, from what I can see of it.”

“Well, I don’t wonder why.” He pulled on his trousers and strode to the window to look through the curtains. “I swear it wasn’t rain I heard. But I do see Devon’s carriage waiting down the street. I shall hand you back to the meddlesome rogue and warn him that if he brings you out again at this hour, he will regret it.”

They quickly dressed. Charlotte walked with him to the door, hazarding a resigned look at his profile. “Well, at least you might sleep through the night. I won’t catch a wink. I should have realized it wasn’t your body that demands satisfaction. It’s your dangerous pride. Will you promise to be careful?”