Duke in Darkness (Wickedly Wed Book 1)

by Nicola Davidson

  “You don’t know…what you’re saying. I’ll mark you. Use you. Not once, over and over. Until you’ve taken…every drop…of my come.”

  “I’m a grown woman and know exactly what I’m saying, thank you very much,” she replied, sounding highly affronted. “Now. Perhaps less chatter and more, um, how did you say…fucking?”

  Pert. Little. Minx.

  “So be it,” Gabriel snarled, and tightening his grip around her waist, he jerked her off her feet and unceremoniously carried her from his chamber to hers.

  With one hand he yanked back her sheets and quilt, then deposited his duchess in the middle of her bed. She braced her hands behind her and stared defiantly up at him, those pretty pink nipples tempting him immeasurably, before boldly parting her thighs. “I’m waiting.”

  He sucked in a ragged breath, excitement making his blood pound. Yet he couldn’t risk her touching him. He was far too on edge, too unstable, too raw. “Take off your chemise.”

  Lilian instantly obeyed. Seconds later he’d torn the garment in half, and used the two pieces to bind her wrists together, and secure them to the bedpost. Christ. What a decadent and erotic sight, his duchess naked and waiting for him, restrained, nipples rock-hard, and thighs spread to reveal that crisp golden bush and the pink of her cunt. Not like a proper lady. Like an eager lover.

  “Now?” she said softly.

  Gabriel leaned down and took her face in his hands, capturing her lips in a brutal, possessive kiss. “Now…we begin.”

  Knowing there were no words comforting enough, and that she couldn’t hold her husband or stroke his hair, she had instead offered her body for his pleasure. Only time would tell whether it was the best or worst thing she’d ever done.

  Lilian swallowed hard, her lips tingling from Exton’s kiss as he knelt on her bed between her spread thighs, and unfastened the buttons to release the fall of his breeches. A proper duchess would never permit such behavior. Being stripped bare. Having her wrists bound and secured above her head with a section of torn chemise. Yet she couldn’t even claim this as a selfless act of altruism, where she dutifully submitted only for her husband’s sake. The truth was far more shameful: she wanted this.

  Wanted to be taken.

  Something wild and wicked had sparked inside of her when she’d removed her dressing gown and nightgown in Exton’s chamber as he watched. The desire that flared in his eyes, banishing the bleak despair, had given her the confidence to be even bolder and bare her breasts. Never had she felt so seductive, than standing there, half-naked, with her husband’s hungry gaze practically devouring her and his cock tenting his breeches. And then, when he’d said those forbidden, naughty words about wanting to fuck, rough and hard like a soldier…

  Well. She wouldn’t even require oil. Already she was embarrassingly hot and damp between her legs.

  “So beautiful.”

  His rasped words made her feel beautiful, and his fierce gaze, the way his jaw clenched, as though she held the allure of a Siren.

  Lilian squirmed on the bed, actually aching to have him inside her. While the flap to Exton’s breeches hung down, his male part was still tucked to one side, bulging and wetting the fabric, and she shot him a curious glance. “Are you going to, ah…”

  “Not yet. I’ve waited far too long…to taste your nipples.”

  Her eyes widened. Exton greatly admired her breasts, she knew that, but he wanted to put his mouth on them? “I…er…”

  “Arch your back,” he growled, as he leaned down, bracing one hand on either side of her body. His size, the way he loomed over her, his barely-leashed lust, should have been frightening. Indeed, her heart pounded. But all she could think about was the sinfully delicious things he might do. He’d shown in the past how skilled his fingers were. Now he wanted to use his lips and tongue?

  Lilian obeyed his order, shivering as he exhaled and a puff of breath danced over her right breast. “L-like that?”

  “Mmmm. Look how pretty your nipples are. So pink. So hard. I’m going to…make them harder,” he finished, before lashing the taut peak with his tongue.

  A jolt went straight to her mound. “Ahh!”

  Exton nodded to himself. “Sensitive.”

  Then he engulfed her entire nipple in his hot mouth, and she couldn’t think at all. The suction, oh Lord, the rhythmic, forceful suction of his lips as his tongue lapped and darted and his teeth scraped would send her straight into madness. Dampness became wetness between her thighs as moisture trickled from her burning center, and she wriggled and shifted, enticing him to penetrate her and ease the pulsing ache.

  Just when his ministrations verged on the point of pain, he moved his head, rubbing his cheeks against her soft flesh of her breasts so the slight prickle of his jaw rasped her skin and left dark pink patches on her ivory skin.

  I’ll mark you.

  Lilian whimpered, her hands tugging against her bonds, wanting to run her fingers through his hair as he teased and tormented her nipples. Wanting to wrap her arms around him when he took her rough and hard like a soldier did, as he’d promised. But Exton merely laughed at her futile efforts, a low, dark chuckle, and moved to her left breast. Sucking. Licking. Biting.

  “I need…” she gasped, her hips lifting in brazen invitation to remind him of her willingness, her craving to have him inside her.

  “Poor duchess,” Exton murmured, rasping his jaw against her collarbone before nipping her shoulder, hard. “What’s wrong? That tight little cunt…aching to be fucked?”

  The shocking words, the brief, intoxicating flash of pain as his teeth marked her skin, left her quivering. Her husband had said he had no control, but what he said and did demonstrated something quite different. While moisture had seeped through the fabric of his trousers, he hadn’t so much as glanced at his cock. No, his concentration remained entirely on her. And now he had worked his way back down from her neck to her breasts, to again suck her too-tender, swollen nipples.

  “I-I need…” Lilian repeated, in desperation. “Down there.”

  Exton shifted on the bed, bracing his weight on one side as his other hand trailed over her belly, the curve of her hips, to stroke the hair between her legs. Yet maddeningly, he didn’t part the hair to stroke her slick flesh, or the throbbing nub at the top that he called her clitoris. “Here, Lili?”

  Just for a moment, the shortened version of her name startled her. Only her mother had ever called her that; Grandmother said pet names were vulgar. Yet it sounded so right from his lips, and she sank deeper into the wicked fantasy of being a colonel’s lover. Lilian must be a proper and decorous duchess. But Lili could give her hot blood free rein, and be wanton and daring and naughty, exactly the woman to be taken hard and rough by her soldier.

  Her lips curved in a small smile. “Yes. Touch me…sir.”

  A primitive sound rumbled in his throat, and he shuffled further down the bed so he crouched between her legs, his face directly above her mound. Then he rested on his elbows and curved a hand under each of her thighs, restraining them as effectively as her wrists.

  Oh God. What on earth did he mean to do now?

  Her husband’s glittering onyx gaze locked with hers. “Watch.”

  Helplessly obedient, Lilian could only pant as he blew softly on her nether curls, the cool puff of air ruffling the crisp hair, but offering no respite for her soaked, musky-scented center.

  And then, with just his fingertips, he parted the curls and exposed her most private parts. Now she couldn’t look. It was too carnal, too forbidden a sight: delicate pink folds slick with spicy dew, Exton restraining her spread thighs, his mouth just inches away from her clitoris.

  She closed her eyes. A sharp nip to her inner thigh jerked her back, and Lilian shuddered as again he mastered her with that flash of pleasure-pain, tempting her with the promise of a powerful orgasm.

  “I said watch,” he growled, before exhaling across her center again.

  “Too much,” Lilian moaned, as wet
ness dripped onto her inner thighs. “I can’t.”

  “You will. And…beg for it.”

  Oh God!

  Chapter 12

  He’d never been more aroused in his life.

  Gabriel suppressed a wince as his agonizingly hard cock leaked more drops of seed onto his ruined breeches. It would be so easy to just thrust himself deeply into Lilian’s soaking wet cunt and mindlessly fuck her like he’d wanted to from the moment she had begun undressing in his chamber. And yet he didn’t. Because right here, right now, offered an opportunity. If he could hold off his own climax until his duchess submitted fully to him, if he could break her with pleasure until she pleaded for it, then he would regain a position of power, regain the precious control and discipline that had been sadly lacking from the evening so far. Perhaps even find some sort of peace.

  Christ, it would be difficult though. Lilian looked the very portrait of erotic debauchery, with her bound wrists, dark red, swollen nipples jutting obscenely from her jaw-rasped breasts, and pearly juices dripping from her center and decorating her inner thighs. His senses were drowning in the spiced honey fragrance of her, and the thought of coating his lips and tongue in it, having her taste in his mouth as her cries of pleasure echoed through the chamber, excited him beyond belief.

  But if she wanted that, she would have to beg for it. Exactly the way he instructed.

  Continuing to hold her in his very secure grip, Gabriel kissed her inner thigh again. “Are you watching?”

  His wife whimpered. “I like…”

  “Yes?” he said languidly, pressing another open-mouthed kiss to her warm flesh, this time near her hip.

  “I liked it when you c-called me Lili. No one else d-does.”

  Gabriel blinked at the entirely unexpected response. But his surprise was quickly followed by a fierce jolt of possessiveness.

  Because you belong to me, duchess mine.

  My Lili.

  “Is that so?” he said softly, rewarding her candor with a fast tongue-flick to her clitoris.

  “Exton,” she wailed.

  Darkness swirled. No. He loathed being reduced to a title, all those around him acting as though he didn’t exist as a man anymore. Of rules and proclamations that didn’t help a damned thing. “I have a name,” he snarled. “Use it.”

  “I am,” she said, her brow furrowing.

  “Not my title. My name.”

  Lilian hesitated, and he could practically see her mind whirring in unison with the rise and fall of her breasts as she panted for breath. This reluctance to address him by his first name was no doubt something else he could thank her bloody damned grandmother and the ton for.

  “My name,” he repeated, trailing his lips across her inner thigh, reveling in her choked moans and the way her hips bucked, urging him back to ease her aching cunt.

  Under no circumstances would she receive that reward. Not until she obeyed. His cock might explode but she would surrender everything to him before he fucked her, no matter how long it took. And yet the longer she paused, the more the darkness, the urge to lose control and give in to his base urges tore at him.

  Just do it. She doesn’t want the intimacy of first names. She doesn’t want you. Not really. Why would she want a scarred, broken man who embarrasses her in public? What do you have to offer apart from the title?

  Gabriel shook his head against the heavy, suffocating thoughts. To distract himself, he kissed her inner thigh again, darting out his tongue and licking a tiny circle on the soft, silken flesh.

  Lilian quivered. “Ohhhh…”

  “Yes, Lili?” he said, hating the faint, pathetic hope in his tone, even as he attempted to further convince her by alternating licks with tiny nips and leaving faint red marks. “Something to say?”

  His wife jerked against her bonds, her heels digging into the sheets as she attempted to break his hold and rub her soaked cunt against his mouth. “I…please…”

  “Please what?”

  She sobbed. “Please…Gabriel.”

  Relieved victory surged through him with the force of a spring tide, rendering him almost lightheaded. “Say it again,” he commanded, unable to be a benevolent conqueror, not when he’d waited so damned long, and his name sounded so perfect from her lips.

  “Gabriel. Gabriel…”

  He inched closer to her swollen center, letting his chin brush her bush. “What do you need, Lili? Your clitoris sucked? Your cunt licked? My tongue inside you? Tell me.”

  “All of that,” she said hoarsely. “I need what you said…”

  “No. Tell me. Tell me exactly, or you get…nothing.”

  Lilian shuddered, then she looked at him, her gaze soft and yielding. “I need…m-my clitoris sucked. And…and my c-cunt licked. Your tongue inside me. Please, please Gabriel. I need it very b-badly.”

  Joy and lust coiled together inside him at a second victory over propriety, almost tipping him over the edge into orgasm. Now Lili would get her reward.

  Parting her bush with his fingertips, Gabriel plunged his face between her legs. Then he fastened his lips around her clitoris and sucked hard. She screamed, her hips jerking with the violence of her climax, but he gave her no quarter as he licked his way down her fragrant center and pushed his tongue inside her. In. Out. In. Out. The way he would very shortly be doing with his neglected and hugely engorged cock. Soon she came again with a wild cry, and he welcomed the trickle of spicy-sweet juices into his mouth, instantly addicting him to her unique and delicious flavor. “A second orgasm? My wicked duchess…is greedy.”

  “Gabriel,” she said weakly, her eyes dazed as her body shook with the remnants of powerful pleasure. “You…” she said tilting her head down in the direction of his erection.

  Flexing his limbs to prevent cramping, he went up onto his knees, and carefully pulled his stone-hard cock free of his trousers. Hell. It was sticky with seed, and so sensitive, it almost hurt to touch. “You need me…to fuck you, Lili?”

  Please say yes.

  “Like a soldier,” she said, nodding. “Like a colonel. Please.”

  Thank Christ for that. He had to be on the verge of erupting like a damned geyser.

  Slowly, so slowly, Gabriel penetrated her with just the engorged head, a groan of ecstasy escaping as her scalding hot inner walls melted around him. Unable to hold back a moment longer, his cock surged to the hilt inside her, and he began thrusting and withdrawing, each time deeper and harder. Encouraging Lilian to wrap her legs around his waist, he gripped her hips to assist his plunder, his need brutal and ungovernable.

  “Can you feel me?” he rasped. “How deep I am?”

  Lilian tilted her hips, her legs like a vise around him. “More.”

  “So tight. Stuffed full. Come for me, sweet. That’s it. Want to feel your greedy cunt…milking my cock.”

  His wife screamed again, her head thrashing on the pillow as her channel pulsed around his cock, and the bedpost creaked as her bound wrists strained. Forcing his cock further in, Gabriel let out a low roar as the intense pressure that had built and built at the base of his spine exploded into the pure ecstasy of climax, and his seed gushed inside her in vicious, wracking spurts.

  Utterly boneless, Gabriel collapsed on top of her. Just for a few moments, knowing she couldn’t see his scars thanks to his shirt and breeches, knowing her bound wrists prevented any accidental touching. Lilian felt soft and warm under him, her silken skin damp with perspiration, her heartbeat rapid as she attempted to catch her breath. Even the thought of withdrawing his cock from its blissful haven was unacceptable.

  “Oh my,” she whispered, cheeks flushed. “So that is how…”

  “A soldier fucks his woman,” he finished for her, reaching up to twist a lock of her hair around his finger and brush her jaw with it. “And it’s never, ever…once.”

  Lilian moaned, her cunt fluttering around him, her nipples stabbing hard against the fabric of his shirt. “Yes. Oh yes.”

  When Lilian awoke to the rays
of a weak sun high in the sky, she was alone.

  Despite the fact that she’d woken the exact same way every morning since she’d been judged old enough to leave the nursery, for the first time it felt wrong.

  Incredibly lonely.

  How could Gabriel have left without so much as a farewell, even a kiss, after what had happened in this bed? The wicked things he’d made her say. Begging him to kiss her nipples and lick between her legs. Begging him to take…no, to fuck her. All while she lay spread out for him, naked and bound, not like a proper duchess, but a pirate’s captive.

  A soldier’s woman.

  It had been so very naughty. As she’d fallen deeper into the fantasy, his control, his orders, the way he’d introduced those delicious sparks of pain to enhance her pleasure had been unbearably exciting. Yet even though she’d completely submitted to him, had obeyed his every command, called him by his first name, and welcomed him inside her body not once, or twice, but three times…he hadn’t stayed. Sometime in the night he husband had decided she was no longer of use to him, and had left her without a word.

  Sitting here alone in her bed, sticky and sore between her thighs…that delight when he’d called her Lili, the intimacy when he’d lay on top of her and played with a lock of her hair, seemed so very far away. Now she just felt like a pair of shabby, unwanted boots.

  Miserably, Lilian glanced across the room. The bedchamber somehow held no warmth, even though a fire burned brightly in the hearth, and a thick quilt covered her. If she weren’t so desperate to use the chamber pot, she might well remain in bed all day. Eventually, she shoved the sheets and quilt away, and hurried from the bed to relieve herself. On the way back she passed her looking glass, and froze.

  “Good heavens,” she mumbled, her mood sinking further at the near-unrecognizable and disheveled naked woman staring back.

  Her unbound hair looked a tangled mess. Her lips and nipples puffy and swollen. And while the marks didn’t hurt, her skin was covered in raw, red patches, and fingertip sized bruises. The previous evening she’d reveled in the evidence of Gabriel’s possession, his jaw rasping her breasts, the wicked nip of his teeth, the way he gripped her hips as he’d teased and tormented and taken. But now, in the cold light of day, without reassuring words or a smile to bolster her spirits after the unfamiliar and overwhelming sexual excesses of the night, she just looked tawdry. Used. Unattractive.