Duke in Darkness (Wickedly Wed Book 1)

by Nicola Davidson

  His cock thrust against her hands. “You may.”

  Keeping her gaze locked with his, Lilian darted out her tongue and lapped away the drops, surprised at the salty earthiness of them on her tongue. Odd, but not unpleasant. Wanting more, she continued to lick the head of his cock, then very daringly took it between her lips.

  “Yes,” he groaned. “Suck me. And touch yourself. I want to watch you…stroke your clitoris. Finger that tight little cunt.”

  Shocked at the order—not even when bathing had she dared to explore her own body in such a manner—Lilian hesitated. “Ummm…”

  “Now.”

  Quivering at the wonderfully stern command, she took his cock a little deeper into her mouth, and at the same time, slid her right hand down to her mound. Parting the crisp hair, she brushed a fingertip over her throbbing clitoris.

  Oh God.

  It was almost too much sensation. Gabriel’s hot, hard cock in her mouth, dripping seed down her throat. His lusty, avid gaze on her, flicking between her lips and breasts and core and making her feel so beautiful and sensual. Her wayward fingers wet with her own juices, learning the secrets of petal-soft folds. And yet her hot blood reveled in the freedom to be curious. The freedom to be wicked with the man she loved.

  “Stop, Lili. Stand up.”

  For a moment she thought she’d done something wrong, until Gabriel cupped her face and kissed her fiercely. Her lips, her cheeks, her neck, as though he couldn’t decide which he wanted most. Then his hands dropped, one to her left breast, where he tweaked one aching nipple, while the other hand trailed down over her belly to cup her mound.

  Lilian’s head fell back as he expertly toyed with her slick, tender folds. “Mmmm.”

  “So wet. Tell me what you need.”

  “I need you, Gabriel. So badly. Your arms around me, your mouth on mine. And your cock very, very deep inside me.”

  His indrawn breath was harsh. “To hold you. Kiss you. Fuck you hard.”

  “Yes,” she said, tilting her hips in blatant invitation, unable to bear a minute more of his languid teasing. “Colonel.”

  “Respectful. Good,” he praised, as he leaned down and flicked his tongue across her lower lip before nipping it, making her burn, making her clitoris throb in envy. “But you don’t get to come…just yet.”

  Lilian moaned. “What must I do?”

  “Go and brace your hands…on the end of the bed. Legs spread. Eyes down.”

  Even in the coolness of the bedchamber, her body was a furnace about to explode. Her cheeks were flushed, a light coating of perspiration made her skin glisten, and between her legs, hot, fragrant juices dripped onto her inner thighs. But Gabriel would make her wait. Make her beg for his tongue, his fingers, his cock. Break her with pleasure.

  A soldier’s woman wanted it that way.

  Just when she was ready to disobey and turn her head, his big hands clamped around her hips, moving slowly to cup her ample bottom. Then he gently parted her nether cheeks, and she gasped. Would he kiss her there again, in that forbidden, intoxicatingly sensitive place?

  A low cry tore from her throat. For it wasn’t his tongue spreading wetness around, but his thumbs. Delving between her legs, coating themselves in juices, and returning to gently circle her back entrance. A lifetime of rules said that she should halt him at once. Yet each time he circled, each time he pressed as though he meant to penetrate her there, a sizzling jolt of dark, compelling pleasure shot straight to her core.

  “Gabriel…” she gasped.

  “Yes, Lili?”

  She spread her legs further apart to offer him easier access, so he might fully introduce her to this deliciously naughty act. But he continued to tease her, around, around, press, until a frustrated shriek escaped. “Gabriel.”

  “Oh, you want…my thumb in your backside, sweet? While I fuck your soaked cunt…with my cock?”

  Both? Never in a thousand years would she have thought of that. Being penetrated in two places would surely be too overwhelming. And yet every pleasure he had introduced her too had been better than the last…

  “Yes,” Lilian said fervently, panting with need, her fingers flexing on the embroidered quilt of the bed. “I want that. Your thumb in me. And your cock.”

  “Very well, madam wife,” he gritted out.

  Gabriel circled her back entrance with his wet thumb twice more, then he pressed in, firmer than before, and her tight ring gave way. It burned a little at first, but soon it felt good. Very, very good.

  “Mmmm.”

  “You like that?”

  “More,” she begged, as her knees shook and threatened to buckle.

  He laughed, a sound of pure delight. “My duchess is wicked.”

  But Gabriel obliged, and as his thumb eased further into her bottom, he nudged the entrance to her cunt with his cock, coated the head in her slickness, and thrust hard.

  Lilian screamed. It was almost too much, the way his cock and thumb both stretched her, separated and yet rubbing together, but the sweet ache intensified the wondrous pleasure. A cataclysmic orgasm approached like a runaway cart and she wanted it, wanted it more than her next breath.

  “Please,” she begged. “Please let me come.”

  “You beg so nicely, Lili,” said Gabriel as he thrust faster and harder.

  Mindless with pleasure, Lilian’s forehead dropped onto the quilt. “Feels so good when you’re inside me. Filling me so full. And when you come…knowing you might be giving me a child…”

  A primitive growl sounded behind her, and abruptly he withdrew both his cock and his thumb. Lilian cried out at the shocking loss, but seconds later she lay on her back, her husband kneeling between her spread thighs.

  “You really want my baby? Not just duty?”

  “Yes,” she said nodding, so there could be no misunderstanding. “More than one. A nursery full. Sons and daughters with dark hair and dark eyes. Just like their papa.”

  Gabriel closed his eyes briefly, his throat working hard. “Blonde hair and blue eyes. Like their mama.”

  “Or a combination,” Lilian added, smiling at the thought, and just as swiftly as he’d withdrawn, her husband moved and thrust inside her again.

  Rough, untamed soldier.

  “Wrap your legs…around my waist,” he said hoarsely, bracing himself on his elbows. “Hold me tight.”

  Tears of joy spilled down her cheeks as she curled her arms under his and gripped his shoulders. Now he was a hot, brawny blanket, the hair on his chest teasing and scraping her nipples as his cock plundered her, and she sobbed at the raw, intimate perfection of their union. Faster and faster, harder and harder, they rocked and ground against each other as one, until the maelstrom exploded and a violent orgasm wrenched an abandoned scream of ecstasy from her throat. Yet he didn’t stop, just thrust again and again, intensifying the pleasure and making it last and last, until his guttural roar echoed in the bedchamber and his seed gushed inside her.

  Gabriel collapsed on top of her and Lilian clamped her arms around him, stroking his hair, his shoulders, his neck, anywhere she could reach. And in that moment of perfect sated peace, she couldn’t halt the words that again tumbled helplessly from her lips: “I love you.”

  Chapter 20

  Gabriel pushed his breakfast plate to one side, his stomach surely about to burst from the amount of food he had shoveled in. Coddled eggs, sliced rare beef, sautéed potatoes, kippers, toasted bread and butter…

  He’d consumed enough to feed half a regiment. Yet he’d needed it after last night, when his need for Lili had been insatiable, and she had wrapped herself around him, pleading, urging him for more, not just showing him she cared with her body, but with sweet words of love that left him raw and so damned humbled.

  It had meant the world.

  Clearing his throat, Gabriel tried not to wince as every muscle in his body protested. Any great grandfather in England would have more dexterity than him this morning. “Are you free for an outing?”


  Lili paused in refilling her cup of chocolate. “No plans that cannot be postponed. Where do you wish to go?

  “I’m going to take those ledgers back…to Ormsby and Jacobs.”

  “I don’t believe they should be in possession of anything,” she replied, her brow furrowing. “Even if the missing ledger did mysteriously reappear.”

  Gabriel snorted. “Quite.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing at all, my dear,” he murmured, aware of the footmen stationed along the dining room wall. “I’m just full of admiration…for the care taken of it. Looked almost new.”

  Her eyes widened, and she swiftly took a gulp of chocolate. “Indeed.”

  “Indeed,” he echoed, his lips twitching.

  A half hour later, they were settled in his carriage and on their way to the offices of Ormsby, Kane, and Vesper, the pile of various estate ledgers resting on the leather squab beside him.

  “So,” said Lili, her eyes aglow with curiosity. “Tell me everything.”

  It was fortunate that the streets were crowded and busy, so he had ample opportunity to show her the copied ledger, every clean, uncurled page. And confirm that the double entries they had both seen with their own eyes, no longer appeared.

  “They’ve gone to rather elaborate lengths,” he finished, setting the ledger aside with an irritable sigh. “Makes me wonder how many of them…might be involved.”

  “Charlatans,” said Lili with a dark frown. “Who do you think did the copying?”

  Gabriel smiled. Clever woman. “I highly doubt Ormsby or Jacobs…would deign to spend hours and hours…on such a mundane task. I think it must have been a clerk. If we could discover which one…”

  “We might find the original ledger. And have proof of fraud to take before the courts.”

  “Precisely.”

  His wife sat forward. “How will we find the clerk?”

  “I think,” he said, sitting back against the soft leather squab, “It has to be the angel and devil approach. I’ll be the angel, of course.”

  Lili giggled. “Oh, indeed, with your black hair and eyes, and pirate swarthy skin. Wearing a black jacket.”

  “What do you suggest, then?”

  “I will be the angel. All smiles and fluttering lashes, innocent questions and gasps of wonder as they regale me with exciting tales from the filing room. When I have seen similar penmanship on a desk…”

  “I shall sweep in and pummel the clerk…until he reveals the location of the real ledger. What do you think? A good ten percent chance of success?”

  She nodded solemnly. “Even as high as twelve. But I am an optimist by nature.”

  At last the carriage came to a halt outside the offices, located near the Stock Exchange in Capel Court. It was a neat but nondescript building, narrow, three-stories of gray stone with sculpted columns at either side of the wide wooden doors. Scooping up the pile of ledgers in one arm, Gabriel exited the carriage and offered his other arm to Lili, and together they strolled across the footpath and into the building.

  It was surprisingly quiet inside, with rows and rows of small, square desks, each decorated by heavy leather tomes, ledgers and other assorted documents. But there were only two clerks behind the long wooden counter separating the entrance way and office.

  “May I help you, sir?” said one of them in a rather harried-sounding voice as he marched over.

  Gabriel smiled, and the young man visibly swallowed. For the first time in his life, he was actually grateful for his vicious looking scar. Nothing like the facial appearance of a brawler or cutpurse to intimidate a nervous clerk.

  With perfect timing, his wife stepped forward and bestowed a dazzling smile on the clerk. Hell. She really did look angelic. “Good morning. The Duke and Duchess of Exton to see Mr. Ormsby.”

  “Oh! Your Graces…” the young man said, his cheeks flushing as he stared at Lili, clearly already half in love with her. “Forgive me, I did not see your names in the appointment book. What a dreadful oversight. Ah…Mr. Ormsby is out at present, they are all in a meeting.”

  Playing her role to the hilt, Lili whipped out her fan and lightly smacked the clerk on the hand. “Lud, sir. We are only just acquainted and already you are breaking my heart?”

  Gabriel put his hands behind his back and pinched himself, torn between laughing at her theatrics, and wanting to heave the clerk out a window for daring to gaze adoringly at her. “My dear…”

  “No, no,” said the clerk swiftly. “Tis quite all right. Perhaps I might be able to assist? I notice you have ledgers with you?”

  “Impossibly dull ledgers,” said Lilian, pouting. “I’m sure what you do is infinitely more interesting.”

  Good God. This might be more than his stomach could take.

  “Yes,” Gabriel said brusquely. “Estate ledgers. Ormsby is expecting them.”

  “I could take those for you—”

  “No. I will have no hands…but his touch them.”

  “Really, Exton,” said Lilian, leaning further over the counter and batting her lashes. “I don’t know why you must be so…so fussy. They are just ledgers. Silly numbers.”

  The clerk actually patted Lili’s hand. “Quite. Not for a lovely duchess to worry about.”

  His wife sighed. “Perhaps, sir, you would allow Exton to place the ledgers in Mr. Ormsby’s office? Then he knows they are safe and well, and won’t become…unhappy. And you could take me for a short tour. As I said, I’m sure your tasks are most stimulating.”

  Gabriel glowered and brought his hands forward, curling them into fists and flexing them once then twice. The young man turned parchment pale.

  “Of course. Yes. I’m sure that would be fine, Your Grace. Mr. Ormsby would not like it if such an illustrious client was displeased. His office is down that hall, second on the right. I would be delighted to entertain Her Grace.”

  “Very well,” he barked, exchanging a quick, triumphant glance with Lili.

  And the risky, entirely non-strategic plan with a ten-to-twelve percent chance of success, was underway.

  How much longer could she keep up this ridiculous pretense? Not only was the company lackluster, the offices were cold, with a poorly stoked fireplace and small, high windows that didn’t allow a great deal of light in. As most of the employees who worked here were out and about, the iron candelabras dotted around the room weren’t lit. On the whole, entirely unpleasant, which she supposed suited snakes like Ormsby and Jacobs.

  Gritting her teeth, Lilian continued to smile at the clerk, Mr. Dennis. It had become clear that while this young man was polite and eager to please, he had less sense than a turnip and probably wasn’t given any particularly difficult tasks to accomplish. She highly doubted he would have been charged to copy the ledger.

  “Would you care for tea, madam?”

  “That would be heavenly,” she cooed, curling her hand around his upper arm as she peeked around his shoulder to observe the desk they stood next to. Frustration burned. Just like all the others they had passed, the handwritten notes and lists of tasks to achieve in the day didn’t match what they had seen in the doctored ledger. Perhaps she and Gabriel were both wrong. Perhaps Ormsby or Jacobs had indeed done the copying themselves.

  “Do you think His Grace would also?”

  “Oh no,” she said quickly. “It is hard for me to admit, but Exton prefers that ghastly coffee. Without milk, even.”

  “Barbaric!” muttered the young man. “You know, Mr. Ormsby and Mr. Jacobs have both spoken of the, er, eccentricities of the duke. So very different from the previous one. I believe they had a very cordial relationship with him. But it is far more difficult with your husband.”

  Rage nearly blinded her. “What has been said, sir? Please do tell me. You can be sure I’ll not tell a soul, as it is nothing I haven’t seen or heard myself.”

  His face lit up. Ah. It seemed a man didn’t need to be in the upper ten thousand to be a wretched London gossip.


  “Well, the previous duke, as a proper gentleman, did not concern himself with matters of a legal or financial nature. Instead he placed his trust in Mr. Ormsby and Mr. Jacobs.”

  Lilian barely refrained from embedding her slipper heel in his instep. No wonder the pair had got away with their fraud for as long as they had. “Oh, quite.”

  “They didn’t bother with regular meetings, instead, Mr. Norris took care of the correspondence with the stewards and acted as the liaison with this office.”

  She froze. “The butler? How odd.”

  Mr. Dennis shook his head as he neatened a pile of papers. “Not really. The old duke hated secretaries. Tried several, but they never worked out. So Mr. Norris offered to assist. He’s a clever man. Did you know he worked as a clerk in his younger years? No? I couldn’t believe it either, madam. I thought for certain Mr. Norris was born with silver hair and pursed lips and a black waistcoat.”

  “Do go on,” she murmured. Not for a moment had she expected to hear such an interesting tidbit from Mr. Turnip Brain himself. “You know Norris personally?”

  “Oh, we all know him a little bit. His late wife was Mr. Ormsby’s sister.”

  Reeling, she stepped back. How very much clearer it all became when one had possession of the facts.

  Norris, that blasted hateful weasel of a man sat at the center of this, she just knew it. A connection to Ormsby he had never divulged. Access to Gabriel’s library, and present on the day the real ledger had gone missing. His open resentment toward both herself and Gabriel. Well, of course he would be resentful if the fraudulent schemes he had been undertaking with several of the stewards and Ormsby’s knowledge, suddenly came under scrutiny. Prior to her arriving, Gabriel had probably been too ill with his sleeplessness, painful injuries, and nightmares of France to pay close attention to what Norris did on a daily basis.

  It made her want to do exactly what Gabriel had done at the Castlereagh ball, and give someone a bloodied nose.

  How dare they. How dare they.