The Duchess' Desperate Deal, page 17
He could spend all day, every day of their holiday, locked in this room, making love to her. But the funny thing was, as much as he enjoyed making love to her, spending time with her out of bed was just as enjoyable. With Hannah, he wanted everything. All her moments, all her facets.
And that was the biggest surprise—and the biggest danger—of all.
CHAPTER 32
THE DAYS BY THE SEA had the contradictory quality of drifting slowly and flying by too fast. Hannah mused as she affixed a hat on top of her head. She couldn’t believe it had been a week since their arrival. A blissful week of days filled with walks by the shore, picnics on the cliffs, and glorious lovemaking. They were going on an excursion today. Gabriel had gone out to arrange for a curricle to take them there.
With every passing day, she was more at ease with him. They had fallen into this comfortable routine, almost like domestic bliss, where they fell asleep in each other’s arms and woke up together. Made lazy love in the morning sunshine, bathed together. They would help each other get dressed. Well...sometimes. Other times the help was counterproductive as they ended up tearing each other’s clothes off. But it was fine, for they had nowhere else to be. No expectations put on their time.
All her cares and troubles seemed worlds away. As if nothing existed but Gabriel and her. This moment. She felt happier than she had ever been before. And paradoxically, the happier she felt, the more anxious she became. Time was running out. This idyllic interlude would end soon. She and Gabriel would have to part ways. Return to their real lives. How could she bear it?
How could she go on without him? And yet, she must. For Harold. For the child they might have conceived. For Gabriel, even. He was being incredibly generous. Caring. Always ensuring her comfort, her pleasure. Protecting her against everything. Taking care of her.
It had been so long since she’d had someone to rely on. In the early days of her marriage, Harold had been her rock. But little by little, over the years, as his health declined and she took on more responsibility, their roles had shifted. She had not realized how burdened she was until Gabriel had taken charge. With him, she didn’t have to think, to plan, to make decisions other than for her own enjoyment. He took care of the rest. Capable, efficient. Solid.
But this situation was so unfair to him. He deserved a real partner. A real relationship. He should be thinking about finding a wife and having children he could call his own. Not be embroiled in this deception with her. The pain that lanced through her heart at imagining Gabriel with another woman was a sign of how far she had fallen.
A familiar knock on the door heralded the arrival of the object of her musings. Yes, she had come to recognize even the staccato rhythm of his knocks. He always did it in a particular pattern. One rap, followed by three shorter ones. Did he know he did that, or did he do it unconsciously? It was one of the myriad small, apparently insignificant details about him that she had become so dear to her.
“We could leave when you are ready. I had secured a curricle, but the innkeeper assured me it is better to simply walk there. It is not far. Just a fifteen-minute promenade along a coastal path.”
She stood from the small vanity and turned to face him. “That sounds lovely. Let’s go.”
“It might be a bit chilly with the wind blowing over the cliffs. That’s the reason I wanted to take the curricle, but Mr. Marlowe assures me it will be more of a nuisance than a help.”
She laughed. “My coat is warm, and I am perfectly capable of a fifteen-minute walk.”
“In that case.” He offered his arm and together they left the inn behind to walk along the path that cut through low cliffs. He carried the picnic basket on his other arm.
They walked for a while in comfortable silence, neither feeling the need to talk. That was another surprise. How they could simply be. When they spotted the gigantic rock formation called Durdle Door, they started descending towards the beach through a steep set of stairs cut into the face of the cliff. She slipped, her heart lodged in her throat with fear, but Gabriel was there, holding her safe, keeping her from falling before her brain even had time to react.
“These steps are treacherous,” she breathed, still nonplussed.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Duchess.”
“Why do you call me duchess?” She was genuinely intrigued. He used her name often, almost as often as he gave her endearments. And yet, he persisted on sometimes using the formality of her title.
He shrugged. “I guess I need the reminder. Can’t let myself completely forget who we are and our proper places.”
She studied him. The words were said without bitterness, and yet she heard the pain. A pain that echoed in her own heart.
“I understand. This place, this time, feels almost magical. Far removed from our normal lives.”
“Yes. But the real world is waiting. Our real lives will intrude soon enough.”
“How soon?” She was afraid to know. As long as she didn’t know the exact day they were to depart, she could ignore it. But she was no coward. She had to face reality.
They had reached the beach, and he took his time to respond while they selected a spot to sit near the rock wall. Here they were in the shadow of the cliff, but at least the rock provided some protection against the wind. The beach was deserted. It seemed they were the only lunatics who thought to walk on the beach in December.
“In five days,” he finally replied.
“Oh, I see.”
So soon! She wanted to cry. Couldn’t they stay here an entire month? But of course not. She was being silly. Christmas was coming soon. She needed to be back at the abbey by then. Not to mention she was concerned about Harold. She had telegraphed him the day after their arrival, to inform him where he could find her, but still...
“I wish we could stay longer.” His tone was laced with regret. “But I’ll find a way for us to continue seeing each other. Maybe you could visit my estate at Christmas?”
She shook her head. “I doubt Harold would be able to travel.”
“Of course,” he said, turning away. Busying himself by taking the blanket out of the basket and laying it on the sand for them to sit.
“I’m sorry. Was it terribly gauche of me to mention Harold? I don’t know how to approach the subject, or even if I should. This is all so far out of my scope–”
Gabriel took one of her hands. “Hannah, you should feel free to talk to me about anything. There’s no forbidden subject between us. Besides, I do want to talk about the duke. He is...” He hesitated. She thought he was about to say the duke was his father, but then he finished, “He is the man who sired me. I want to learn more about him.”
“Thank you, Gabriel.”
“For what?” He looked genuinely puzzled. As if he didn’t understand what a precious gift his open attitude was to her.
“For putting me at ease. For giving me the freedom to speak my mind. You can ask me anything you want as well.”
“Anything?” he asked, and there was a hint of a tease in his stormy eyes. Eyes that looked so much like the sea on this winter morning.
Her lips twitched in response, dispelling the rioting emotions of the moment, as was no doubt his intent. “Well, you can ask. I can’t promise that I will answer.”
“Yes, you will,” he said, helping her sit on the blanket and sprawling next to her. “I will get you to tell me all your secrets.”
She laughed. “I have no secrets. At least none that you don’t know. My life has been exceedingly dull until we embarked on this adventure.”
“Everybody has secrets.”
“Do you have secrets?”
His mouth held a sardonic twist as he replied. “My dear, I am a secret. My whole life, my very existence, is a shameful secret.”
“Not for Harold, I don’t think. He kept the secret because he thought it was the best for you. But I know he is proud of you, as he should be.”
Gabriel shook his head, as if to deny the oblique compliment. “Tell me about him. What ails him?”
She let the subject go. “It’s his heart. He has chest pains, the doctor calls them angina pectoris. He’s been having them for years, but they are more frequent of late. And he suffered an apoplexy a few months ago. He hasn’t completely recovered.”
Gabriel nodded somberly. “How much time do doctors think he has left?”
“They say it’s difficult to predict. He could have another apoplexy and die tomorrow. Or he could linger on for a few years in a slow decline. But Harold thinks he doesn’t have much time.”
“I wish I had known he was my father sooner. Years ago, when we first met. I wish I’d had more time with him. Without this between us.”
“By this you mean our relationship?” She heard the defensiveness in her tone.
He noticed as well. He didn’t miss much. His hand extended towards her face, caressing her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over her lips.
“I don’t regret our relationship. I never will, no matter what happens. How can I, when having this time with you, however long or short it might be, is the best thing that’s ever happened to me?” There was naked vulnerability in his eyes. He was letting her in. Showing her some emotion he dared not give name to. Neither did she.
“But I do regret the nature of it. I regret this strange situation that puts each of us in a separate corner of a triangle. I don’t wish for the duke’s death. I...care about him. And yet, he’s standing between me and what I want most in the world. It is so deucedly difficult.”
She lowered her gaze. She couldn’t bear to witness his pain. The desperate yearning warring with guilt that also found an echo in her heart.
“I’m sorry, Gabriel.”
He tugged her against him, held her close to his chest. “Don’t be. You have nothing to apologize for. I suspect you are as much a victim of the circumstances as I am. And are just as torn.”
CHAPTER 33
GABRIEL AWOKE TO HUMID heat, pleasure, and darkness encasing his turgid flesh. He grappled with consciousness for a few moments before realizing what was going on. They were in their room. At the inn. Only the fire illuminated the chamber. The bedsheets lay discarded, exposing their naked bodies to the night and the overheated room. Or maybe that was just him? Judging by the dim light, the sun had not risen yet. But a part of him obviously had.
Light sucking, followed by a gentle lick, almost had him jumping out of the bed as unadulterated ecstasy spread through him like a tidal wave. His body responded without thinking, groaning, grabbing her hair, his hips pumping into her mouth, before reason asserted itself. What was she doing? He had never asked her to do this for him. Oh, but it felt so good. Her sweet mouth, inexpert and tentative as it was, produced more pleasure than the practiced seductions of the most experienced lovers.
“Hannah, wait. What are you doing?” he rasped, leaning up on his elbow, pulling her head up. Striving for some semblance of control.
She looked up to meet his eyes, and the sight of his swollen cock inside her mouth was almost enough to make him come on the spot. With an iron will, he held himself in check. She pulled back with a delicious, torturously slow motion. The head of his cock popped out of her pursed lips with a wet sound. She licked those lips.
Fuck.
“The book described the act,” she replied a little bashfully. “There was even an illustration. It was intriguing. I woke up, and you were hard.” A small shrug. “It seemed like the perfect opportunity. You don’t enjoy it?”
The uncertainty in her voice tore at his heart. “Enjoy it?” He snorted. “You were a moment away from having my enjoyment spilled in your mouth.”
Her eyes grew wide with what he thought was horror, but the words that came from her were, “Yes, please.”
He fell back with a groan. How could he resist that plea? Why would he, when his cock was throbbing, angry at having its pleasure interrupted? Because he wanted to come inside her, not in her mouth, that’s why.
She took his gesture as surrender. The next moment, her hand fisted around his cock and her hot mouth descended upon him again, drawing an excruciating curse from his throat.
“Fuuuuck, Hannah. I can’t resist you. That feels so damned good. That’s it, darling, take a bit more. Cup my sack, roll them gently in your palm...yes!”
She took instructions like the apt pupil she was. Her tongue pillowing his shaft, curving around it, then licking a place on the underside of his cock that had him seeing stars. He would lay odds she had never done this before, and yet, God help him if she ever became more adept. What she lacked in experience she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Her clever hands and mouth played him with innate skill, drawing embarrassing, incoherent sounds from his throat.
His body strained, leaning into her heat, his hips pumping with a rhythm of their own, his legs widening, tensing, lifting him off the bed. He was afraid to reach for her. Afraid that his ecstasy would turn him careless, that he would grab her too hard, handle her too roughly. So he fisted his hands on the bed’s iron headboard, holding on for dear life like a man in agony.
But such intense pleasure couldn’t last for long. His body could not bear it. He felt his release climbing down his spine, creeping up his legs, converging at his bollocks.
“Hannah, let go,” he panted.
She didn’t even slow down. Her hand moved faster upon him, her cheeks hollowed, and she sucked harder.
It was almost upon him, too powerful. He couldn’t hold it back. With equal parts thrill and horror at his absolute lack of control where she was concerned, he surrendered to the orgasm that seized him. Spouting embarrassing feral groans as he erupted.
He felt more than heard her little yelp of surprise as his seed jetted into her mouth. He opened his mouth to apologize, but the apology turned into a moan of ecstasy when, without hesitation, she swallowed his seed with a little satisfied moan.
“Bloody hell, Hannah.” He threw an arm over his eyes as he drew big gulps of air, fighting for composure.
His little lioness crawled over to lie beside him. He tucked her warm body against his chest, and she curled against his side.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered, something akin to wonder at a new discovery in her tone.
“Didn’t know what, kitten?”
“The pleasure to be found in pleasuring you.”
Oh, if she hadn’t slain him before, she certainly did now, with her words.
He lifted the arm from his eyes, turned to her, and holding her gaze, he replied, “Now you understand why I insist on pleasuring you. The pleasure I experience when I make you fall apart in my arms... it makes me feel like a king, like a conqueror.”
“I didn’t understand why you insisted on pleasuring me that way. I thought you were only being noble.” At his bark of laughter, she playfully hit him in the chest. “Very naughty of you, to deny me the same pleasure until now.”
He turned with her in his arms, rolling them so that he was on top. “You forget the purpose of us coming together. If I am to get you with child, I must deposit my seed in your cunny, not in your mouth. As delightful as this act was, it served no purpose.”
She frowned at him. “It did if it brought you pleasure.”
“I could have found the same fulfillment between your legs. Admit it, it was a waste.”
“I will admit no such thing.”
“Were you not the one who once tried to strip the act of pleasure? You just wanted my seed and to be done with me.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. Why was he stirring up old hurts? Because she had devastated him with her selfless act. He felt exposed and defenseless.
But she didn’t rise to the bait. Placing her soft palm on his cheek, she gazed into his eyes. “I was wrong. I’ve thought about that, and it mortifies me to think I was so foolish. So selfish and insensitive. How could I have ever thought I could remain unmoved while sharing my body with you?”
Damn. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s the truth. At first, I was only thinking about conceiving, but I have come to see mutual delight as a worthwhile pursuit.”
“Whereas I, at first, was thinking only of pleasure. But now, I want to get you with child.”
“Well of course—”
“No, you don’t understand. Not because of the deal. I want my seed to take root in you.” He placed a hand over her stomach and tenderly rubbed it. “I want to see you swell with my child and know that I put a babe in you. I want to make you mine in the most primal, most elemental way.”
With that, he parted her legs and plunged inside her. Her eyes widened at the invasion.
“Fuck, you are so wet. Tell me, my naughty duchess, did it arouse you to drive me mad with want?”
“Yes!” she moaned, widening her legs to take him deeper.
He slid another inch. Her flesh parted and relaxed around him, welcoming him. He thrust all the way in, burying himself to the hilt in her sweet warmth. Losing what was left of his sanity in the feel of her.
The room was brighter now. It still rained outside, but beyond the clouds, the sun had risen higher on the horizon, bathing the room with silvery light. He pushed up from her, sat back on his heels and gazed down at the place where they joined.
“How beautiful you look with my cock rammed to the hilt inside you. I love to see you like this.”
Her only response was a mewl of desire. But a response was unnecessary. Thunder boomed outside as, grabbing hold of her hips, he positioned her and held her steady for his punishing possession. She was no passive recipient. Digging her heels into the mattress, she rose against him, moving with him.
It was desperate, savage. Bodies straining, reaching for the same destination. He grabbed her hands in his. Leaning over her, he held them above her head as he devoured her mouth, feasted on her breasts. She was panting, sobbing with the need for release before he gave it to her.
