Griffin Stone: Duke Of Decadence (Dangerous Dukes Book 3)

by Carole Mortimer

  It had become sheer torture for her to be so much in Griffin’s company these past few days, and at the same time so aware of the barrier of formality he had erected between the two of them. To be aware of his deliberately avuncular attitude towards her.

  A deliberation that had not been present in those glittering eyes just minutes ago when Griffin had looked at her so hungrily.

  Were her own feelings, her emotions, sure enough at present for her to know exactly what she would be doing if she were to meet the fire she believed she had seen in his gaze?

  A mouse, he had called her, when in truth the only reason for Bea’s quiet these past few days had been in the hopes of making her presence here more tolerable for him, to make herself less visible, so that she appeared less of a burden to him.

  Whatever her station in life might have been before her amnesia, Bea knew with absolute certainty that she could not possibly have been a mouse. Griffin had also called her a woman of fortitude, and Bea did not doubt she was a woman of determination and resolve. Anything less and she would not have survived her abduction and the beatings, nor would she have managed to secure her own escape.

  However, it was clear now that she would be gone from here soon, one way or another.

  Away from Griffin.

  She might never see him again!

  She was not a mouse, and she would not have Griffin think of her as such, but was instead determined he would see the strong and capable woman she knew herself to be.

  A woman who knew exactly who and what she wanted.

  Chapter Eight

  So much for his claim that he needed to work, Griffin acknowledged several hours later as he sat sprawled in the chair behind the desk in the library, a single lit candle on his desktop and the glow of the fire in the hearth to alleviate the darkness of the room behind him.

  He had removed his jacket and cravat from earlier, several buttons of his shirt he’d also unfastened for added comfort, his thoughts ranging far and wide, before inevitably coming back to the exact same subject.

  Bea.

  His fingers clenched on the arms of his chair as he once again pictured her as she had looked in her bedchamber earlier: her hair slightly dishevelled, her cheeks flushed from the tears she had cried, her eyes dark with hurt, the swell of her breasts softly rising and falling as she breathed, her arms long and slender, hands and fingers delicately elegant. Hands he ached to have touch and stroke him.

  She was desire incarnate!

  A desire that was slowly but surely eating into Griffin’s very soul, and driving him out of his mind.

  ‘Griffin?’

  Griffin turned so quickly in his chair at the unexpected sound of Bea’s huskily soft voice, when he had been thinking of her so intensely, that he was in danger of falling out of it!

  He almost did as he took in her appearance. She was framed in the doorway; her hair loose and silky about her shoulders, and she was wearing only her nightrail, with a thin silk robe over it and a matching belt fastened about the slenderness of her waist.

  Griffin stood up, as was his custom when a lady entered the room, his brow lowering into a glower as he felt his body react instantly to Bea’s appearance, and even more intensely than the uncomfortable and throbbing ache at dinner.

  ‘What on earth are you still doing awake at this time of night?’ His voice was husky as he tried to temper his tone, recalling how he had upset her when he had spoken to her harshly earlier.

  She stepped into the room and closed the door quietly behind her before moving further into the shadowed library, the corners of the room completely dark. Only Griffin, his hair tousled, as if he had run his fingers through it several times in the past few hours, stood out in stark relief against that darkness. The unfastened shirt at his throat revealed a hint of dark hair covering his muscled chest.

  Her chin rose determinedly before she lost her nerve and turned on her heel and fled. ‘Has Pelham retired for the night?’

  Griffin continued to glower. ‘I believe so, yes.’

  She nodded. ‘I waited upstairs in my bedchamber after my bath until I believed he might have done,’ she informed him softly.

  His eyes narrowed warily. ‘Why?’

  Now that she was here, face to face with this physically mesmerising man, Bea was starting to wonder that herself!

  It had all seemed so simple up in her bedchamber earlier. She would take a leisurely bath, wait for the household to go to bed before then going downstairs to seek out Griffin, with the intention of tempting him into kissing her again. With the intention of showing him she most certainly was not a mouse. Here and now, faced with the sheer masculinity of the man, she felt decidedly less confident.

  What did she possibly have to offer a man of such sophistication and self-confidence as him? A man, a duke, who only had to snap his elegant fingers to have any woman he chose?

  In her present loss of memory, homeless, friendless state, absolutely nothing.

  Her nerve completely failed her. ‘I have been afraid to fall asleep these past few nights because of the nightmares that occur when I do.’ She drew in a deep and ragged breath.

  Of course, Griffin acknowledged with a wince, he’d noticed these past few days, during their hours spent together in the library, that she occasionally dozed in her chair beside the fire. As if, he now realised, she had not slept at night.

  ‘Would you like me to sit with you again until you have fallen asleep?’ he suggested gruffly.

  At the same time as he wondered if he was capable of being alone again with Bea in her bedchamber without making love with her. Or, more likely, once again suffering the tortures of hell as he tried to resist the urge to do so!

  Her hair moved silkily against the soft swell of her breasts as she shook her head. ‘I want—’ She drew in a deep breath and began again. ‘I should very much like it if you were to hold me in your arms again.’

  He was doomed. His fate writ high in the heavens, as the man who had absolutely no defences when it came to the innocence of the very woman he was supposed to be protecting.

  He cleared his throat before speaking. ‘That would not be a good idea, Bea.’

  She eyed him curiously. ‘Why not?’

  Griffin clenched his hands together behind his back. ‘Please just accept that it would not.’

  Bea studied him from beneath lowered dark lashes, easily noting the slightly fevered glitter in his eyes, and the flush high on those sharply etched cheekbones. There was a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw, and the width of his chest rapidly rose and fell as he breathed. ‘I should like it very much if you did,’ she insisted softly.

  He eyed her impatiently. ‘What are you doing?’ he barked even as his hands came quickly from behind his back as she hurtled across the room and into his arms.

  Her arms were about his waist as she burrowed into the comforting hardness of his chest. ‘I feel so safe when you hold me in your arms, Griffin.’

  Safe? Griffin echoed the word incredulously.

  Bea felt safe when he held her?

  It was the very last thing she was when his body reacted so viscerally to the feel of the warm softness of her body nestled so closely against it. He was a man of flesh and blood, not a blasted saint!

  As the swell of his arousal testified.

  Bea sighed her contentment. ‘This is so very nice.’

  His gaze sharpened with suspicion as she looked up at him. Was that a glint of mischief he could see in her eyes? A curve of womanly satisfaction to the fullness of her lips?

  It was, damn it!

  He pulled back slightly so that he could see her face more clearly; yes, he could definitely see challenge now in the darkness of her gaze, and her creamy cheeks were flushed. ‘Bea, are you playing a game with me?’

&nbs
p; ‘A game?’

  Griffin wasn’t fooled for a moment by her too-innocent expression. ‘A dangerous game.’ He nodded grimly.

  ‘Dangerous?’ she echoed softly, her fingertips playing lightly across his chest.

  ‘Very dangerous,’ he assured her firmly as his hands moved to grasp the tops of her arms to hold her firmly away from him. ‘I advise that you leave here now, Bea, or suffer the consequences,’ he warned.

  Heat and caution waged war within Bea. The heat of the desire she felt for Griffin, to be closer to him. And the caution of realising that the man who now stood before her was not that same easy companion of the past few days. Or the gentleman who had pledged to protect her until her true protector could be found.

  This Griffin was not a gentleman at all, but was instead pure, predatory male. A man who was rakishly handsome and wholly sensual, his gaze now feasting hungrily on the firm swell of her breasts visible above her nightrail and robe.

  Perhaps she did have something to offer him, after all?

  Bea moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue before she spoke slowly. ‘I believe I will choose the consequences.’

  ‘Then you are a reckless fool!’ Griffin grated even as he pulled her into his arms and his mouth laid siege to hers.

  Bea groaned her satisfaction as she gave herself up to the savagery of his kiss, eagerly standing on tiptoe as she moulded her body against his much harder one.

  Her hands moved up his chest, feeling the soft hair visible there, lingering for several seconds, caressing that silkiness, as he moaned softly. She then slid her hands over the muscled width of his shoulders, her fingers becoming entangled in the darkness of the hair at his nape as the heat between them intensified and grew.

  Bea whimpered low in her throat as Griffin now widened her stance to grind the hardness of his arousal into the inviting softness between her thighs, drawing her breath in sharply through her nose as he touched a part of her that caused the heated pleasure to course wildly through her veins.

  She was lost in a maelstrom of emotions as his mouth continued to devour hers, even as his large hands restlessly caressed the length of her spine before settling on her bottom as he pulled Bea in even closer. The rhythmic stroking of his arousal now sent heated pleasure through the whole of her body; her nipples were full and aching, and between her thighs was swollen and warm.

  Reckless fool or not, Bea didn’t want Griffin to stop. She wanted this pleasure to go on and on. To lose herself utterly, in both Griffin’s arms and his unmistakeable passion.

  Griffin wanted all Bea had to give. His hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts and the soft pad of his thumbs caressed the swollen and sensitive tips. Bea’s passion, Bea’s pleasure, every inch of Bea’s body.

  Her kisses revealed the first, her groans, as he caressed her breasts showed the second, and the third—

  Griffin pulled back abruptly to draw ragged breath into his starved lungs as he looked down at her with heated eyes. ‘You should go back to your bedchamber, Bea. Now!’

  Her hair was tousled, her eyes heavy with passion, cheeks flushed and feverish, her lips swollen from their kisses. ‘I would rather stay here, with you.’

  ‘It will very shortly be too late for me to stop, Bea.’

  She looked up at him searchingly. ‘Do you want to stop?’

  What he wanted was this woman’s body spread naked before him, so that he could kiss and taste every inch of her, from her head to her toes!

  He clenched his jaw. ‘No, I do not want to stop.’

  ‘Then neither do I,’ she assured him gently, her gaze continuing to hold his as her fingers moved purposefully to unfasten the two remaining buttons of his shirt.

  His breath caught in his throat as she pulled his shirt free of his pantaloons before sliding it slowly up his chest. ‘You really are playing with fire, Bea,’ he gave her one last, growled warning.

  She smiled up at him impishly. ‘Then at least I shall be kept warm!’ She pulled his shirt up, removing it completely. Her eyes were hot and devouring as she gazed at the muscled bareness of his chest before tentatively touching. ‘You truly are magnificent, Griffin!’ she breathed wonderingly as she smoothed her hands across his chest and over his nipples.

  Her words, and her touch, caused Griffin’s desire for her to rage out of control.

  He had no memory of when a woman had last desired him for himself, and not because of his title or because she was being paid to want him. A sad state of affairs, indeed, but he had felt too raw after Felicity—

  No!

  He would not think of Felicity now.

  Why should he think of her when there had been such an impenetrable coldness to his wife? A coolness he already knew Bea did not share.

  Bea was warm—so very warm. She was responsive. Even now the hard berries of her nipples throbbed heatedly against the soft pads of his thumbs. And the scent of her arousal teased and tempted his senses, a mixture of honey and earthy, desirable woman.

  Perhaps he should spare a thought for the man Michael, the man she had called for in her sleep.

  Griffin saw no reason why he should consider him when Bea seemed bound and determined not to!

  ‘Are you sure this is what you really want?’ Griffin knew he was the one who had to be sure; he had to know that Bea wanted him as much as he desired to make love to her.

  ‘Very sure,’ she answered without hesitation.

  He gave her one last searching glance, seeing only sincerity in her expression, before taking her hand and drawing her over to the warmth of the fireplace. He came to a halt and turned to face her, his gaze deliberately holding hers as he unfastened the robe at her waist before slipping it from her shoulders and allowing it to drop onto the rug on which they both stood.

  She wore only her nightrail now, a diaphanous garment easily penetrated by the flickering firelight, and revealing every dip and curve of Bea’s body as Griffin gazed down at her hungrily. Her breasts were full and tipped by ruby red and swollen berries, her waist slender above the womanly flare of her hips. Dark curls nestled temptingly between her thighs, and her legs were smooth and shapely above slender bare feet.

  Bea sensed that Griffin hesitated still, not because he did not want her—the evidence of that was all too apparent in the tenting of his pantaloons—but because he was, after all, a gentleman, even in his desire for her.

  How lucky his wife had been to have such a considerate husband. To have such a wonderful man in love with her. To be so privileged as to possess the care and devotion of such a man.

  The desire Griffin now felt for her might only be a shadow of the emotions he had once felt for his dead wife, but surely it was enough?

  Bea would make it be enough!

  She continued to look into his eyes rather than down at her own body as her hands moved down to take hold of her nightgown. She slowly drew the material up to reveal her calves, then her thighs. The blush deepened in her cheeks as she raised the garment to her waist and saw Griffin’s eyes darken, his heated gaze fixed on the V of silky ebony curls between her thighs.

  ‘Higher,’ he encouraged tightly.

  Bea’s hands trembled as she slowly pulled her nightrail up over her waist and breasts, her legs starting to shake as she heard his harshly indrawn breath as she removed the garment completely, dropping it down beside her robe as she stood naked before him.

  ‘How beautiful you are,’ he murmured as he sank to his knees in front of her, his large hands cupping both her breasts as he drank in his fill before slowly leaning forward to suckle one of her aching and engorged nipples into the moist heat of his mouth.

  Bea reached out to grasp his bared shoulders as sharp pleasure engulfed her. She was afraid her legs would no longer support her if she didn’t. His chest was bathed in firelight, warm and dry bene
ath her fingers, and she could feel the play of muscles beneath his skin as Griffin caressed her.

  Bea had never dreamt that such pleasure existed as that created by the complete intimacy of having Griffin on his knees before her, his bared flesh beneath her caressing fingertips, her aching nipple in his mouth.

  The pleasure intensified as he now drew hungrily on her swollen berry, the fingers and thumb of his other hand stroking and squeezing its twin, and sending waves of heated pleasure coursing through Bea’s body straight down to between her thighs.

  Soft moans began to penetrate the silence of the room, and Bea realised they were her own as one of her hands moved to clasp the back of Griffin’s head, her fingers becoming entangled in the dark thickness of his hair as she held him to her, never ever wanting this pleasure to stop.

  Wanting more.

  But having no idea what more there was.

  Griffin looked up at Bea as he felt her restlessness; her eyes were closed, long lashes resting on flushed cheeks, her lips parted slightly as she breathed raggedly, her throat arched in pleasure as she thrust her breasts forward.

  He lightly caressed her waist as he slowly released her nipple from his mouth.

  ‘Griffin!’ She looked down at him, need shining brightly in the feverish glow of eyes.

  He took a few seconds to enjoy the sight of her engorged nipple, so moist and red and swollen from his suckling, before his gaze moved lower, his hands now resting on her hips as he held her in place before him and gently nudged her legs apart with his knees.

  She was so aroused. For him. Because of him. Because of her desire for him.

  ‘Griffin?’ Bea’s voice quivered her uncertainty as she watched his long fingers gently part the ebony curls between her thighs before he once again lowered his head towards her.

  He glanced up at her, so close now the warmth of his breath brushed softly against a part of her that felt swollen and aching. ‘Do you trust me, Bea?’ he prompted huskily.

  ‘Of course I trust you.’ If she did not trust Griffin, then she could never, would never, trust anyone again.