by Stacy Reid
She lifted her head, and he dipped toward her, his mouth conquering. His lips trailed across her cheek to catch an earlobe between his teeth, and he nipped. He grasped the neckline of her chemisette and with one motion, tore open the flimsy material.
Good heavens.
He feathered wet kisses over her neck, down to her collar, and placed his heated wet mouth over a nipple, sucking at it through her shift. The sensation was so sharp she bucked. Everything became a blur as what remained of their clothes were stripped away with haste, and soon they were both naked. He lifted her and strode to the narrow bed, where he tumbled her none too gently. But Adel did not want tenderness. His touch had incited a fever of need in her blood, and she was already wet for him.
They twisted on the sheets, and somehow she found herself, pressing kisses over his chest, down to his stomach, and to the thick length flexing against his ridged abdomen. Desperate to please and drown him in ecstasy, she clasped him and licked around the ridge below his head.
He shouted and fisted the sheets. Pleasure warmed her, and power tunneled though her. Acting on instinct, she licked along his length, before enveloping the flared mushroomed head into her mouth. He growled in approval, a truly lovely sound.
As if impatient for her, he reached down, gripped her hips, and drew her up his body and then flipped her over. His roughness excited her terribly and she moaned.
His heavy weight pressed her down, his hips forcing her legs wantonly wide. He reached between them and slid two fingers over her folds. His fingers moved sinuously over her swollen, wet flesh, and her entire body ached for his possession. He removed his fingers and pressed his blunt hardness to her softness. “You are so wet for me, Adeline.”
She shivered and tried to lift her hips. But she was splayed wide and restrained by his strength. She could only grip his shoulders for purchase. He braced himself up on his arms, flexed his buttocks, and drove his entire length deep in one powerful stroke, surging into her almost violently.
“Edmond!”
His face was stark with need. “So right, so damn tight and perfect.”
He reared slightly and hooked his arms beneath her knees, pushing her legs toward her shoulders.
“Do you know how beautiful you are, Adeline?” he whispered, his voice low and rough.
Then he drove his length into her over and over, shaking the bed against the wall. Lust rolled through her in a dark hungry tide, and she grasped his head, pulled down, and mashed their lips together. His tongue licked sensually at her lips, sliding deep into her mouth, a provocative mimicry of how he rode atop her. He snapped his hips even harder, his pelvis grinding against her knot of pleasure.
Sweet glorious heavens!
Adel found her release, gasping and shaking, never wanting such ecstasy to end. With a deep groan, and a few more rapid strokes, Edmond shuddered in her arms, gripping her tightly.
Their lips parted, and the heavy pants of their breathing mixed with the lash of rain against the window, and the crackle of the fire. The wind howled around the cottage and thunder cracked as the sky lit up with sudden lightning, yet neither of them seemed to notice.
He dropped his forehead to her, the sweat running from his hairline, down her forehead.
“There are days when I shudder in dread at the thought of what might have happened if you had not climbed into my bed, because I would now be wed to another. I’ve never desired another woman as I do you, Adeline.”
Adel choked, unable to speak. His lips curved in his sinfully alluring smile.
Then he pulled from her and stumbled from the bed.
“Edmond! Are you truly soused?”
“Perhaps, Duchess.”
Then he came back over to her and she realized he held his handkerchief. He gripped her legs and tugged her to the edge of the bed, widened them, and cleaned her. A frown appeared on his brow, he shook his head, then his gaze once more traveled to her center.
“You are soft and pink here,” he murmured, tracing a finger over her exposed flesh.
She gasped, wanton heat once again stirring in her blood.
“I want to taste.”
Before she could formulate a response, he dipped his head and glided his tongue over her.
She cried out weakly, her thighs falling apart even wider at his urging. His lips covered her nub and sucked hard. Adel lost her breath. His tongue flicked over her with firm then light strokes, throwing her into an almost violent release. She quaked, panting. He did not let up, but kept sucking and licking until she writhed with bliss.
“You taste sweet…I could feast on you forever,” he said as he rose and flipped her over, drawing her to knees. Her loud cry bounded off the wall as he shoved his thick length into her in one hard move.
“I will never get enough of your taste and the feel of you in my arms.”
Desire curled through her body as his words stroked her.
“You’re stretched so tight around me,” he growled. Then he proceeded to take her with a roughness she had never experienced before, and she gloried in every pounding thrust until she fragmented under the onslaught of such ecstasy.
Provocative words of encouragement spilled from her lips, and the bed groaned under his loss of control. With a muffled shout, he found his own release, and collapsed onto the bed, twisting her so she fell atop him. Seconds later, his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She covered him with the blankets and snuggled down beside him in the tiny bed.
“I love you, Edmond,” she whispered.
Of course he would not respond, for her duke was fast asleep.
Adel had no idea how long she lay on the bed curved into his side, simply listening to his breathing. She shifted and her heart thudded as she felt the wet warmth of his seed pooling along the insides of her thighs. Oh, God, it is too soon. He was not ready for this.
She pushed from the bed on trembling legs, containing her wince at the tender ache between her legs. She hurriedly dressed and he did not stir. Adel quickly collected the card pack and the game. The front of her chemisette was torn, but she ensured her riding jacket covered the damage before she left the cottage, throwing on her cloak to protect her from the last raindrops of the storm. The horse was gone, she assumed it had returned to the warmth of its stables at the onset of the downpour, but Maximus was waiting by the door, his tail thumping when he saw her.
Relief filled her at his presence, and with determined strides, she walked away from the cottage and strode toward the main house, uncaring that mud splattered the hem of her riding habit. Edmond had been so passionate and natural—his caresses, his words, they had been everything she wanted to hear and everything she wanted to hold close. Adeline feared he had truly been drunk, but not insensible. What would he do when he realized he had released his seed in her?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Edmond woke with a splitting head and a curse spilling from his lips. Once again he had passed the anniversary of Maryann and his son’s death in a drunken haze. Suddenly he despised the notion of liquor and vowed then he would never imbibe to drunkenness again. He pushed from the bed and paused, heat and something elusive slithering though his veins. Something was different. He struggled to remember, and fleeting impressions of Adeline crowded his mind.
Her compassionate smile.
The storm in her eyes that darkened to passion.
Passion… Her lips parted in bliss, her body arching to him, wet heat enveloping his length.
The cottage smelled like his duchess.
He frowned and glanced around. There was nothing to indicate she had been there. He scrubbed a hand over his face as the wisp of a dream roiled though his mind. He glanced down at his flaccid cock, which seemed sticky with the release he’d obviously achieved from dreaming of Adeline.
Hell.
He was like an untired youth. But he was grateful the worst had passed. And he had some explaining to do to his wife. It was hard to explain the guilt that had stirred to know Maryann rotted in the ground, and he
was whole, healthy, and without a doubt falling in love with his new wife.
He dressed in a slow manner, mindful of his headache. A few minutes later he exited the cabin to a very dreary atmosphere. When he’d realized it would rain yesterday he had not tethered his horse so that it could return to the stables. It would rain again today. Maximus bounded over to Edmond, getting mud all over his clothes. He chuckled and hugged him around his neck, playing roughly with the great brute. They made their way to the estate, and his steps slowed when he spied Adeline and his girls strolling along a path.
Sarah spied him and with a shriek raced over. He swooped her into his arms, and placed her atop his head, as how his father had done with him many times. His daughter gripped tuffs of his hair for purchase, giggling.
“It is very high from up here, Father.”
Rosa ran over chortling and hugged him. “We missed you, Father.”
“I missed you both, too.”
“Will you come to our tea party in the nursery this afternoon?”
His throat tightened. This was the first time in years that he had received a much coveted invitation to one of his girls’ tea parties. They always held them, even invited his mother, and sometimes, he believed, Adeline, but not him. He’d known he was responsible for their wariness but had been at loss for how to mend the hurt he’d caused with his absence. “I would be honored to be on your guest list today, Lady Sarah and Lady Rosalie.”
They giggled, and his heart jerked in wonder at the beautiful sound.
He frowned when he noted his duchess seemed hesitant. They walked over to her, and he glanced at the basket in her hands.
“The girls and I took a walk, though it was overcast.” She held up the basket. “We picked some berries.”
Why was Adeline wary?
“Forgive me for departing with such haste from town.”
Her eyes widened and a flush climbed her cheeks. “It is of no great matter. I had been missing the girls and the estate dreadfully. I would have liked to be a part of the decision, however, but Lady Harriet explained what precipitated your actions.”
He nodded. “Shall we walk together?”
“We shall.”
They moved toward the house in the distance.
“You’re beautiful.”
She glanced at him, eyes wide, then what he had been waiting for came. A slow smile touched her mouth which was sinfully swollen, as if they had been kissed. Repeatedly.
For a terrible, timeless minute, he could do nothing but stare. The edges of his dream teased his thoughts. “Did you have a pleasant night?”
“Oh yes, I did, thank you, and you?”
“My sleep was restful.”
They said no more, allowing the girls to chatter until they reached the main house. All should have been well, yet Edmond wondered at the disquiet lodging in his gut.
…
Eight weeks later, Adeline was bent over the chamber pot heaving and looking pale. Her maid Meg held the mass of her hair from her face and pressed a cool washcloth to her brow.
“There, there,” Meg crooned as his duchess heaved once more.
Sympathy filled Edmond. Adeline was having a horrible time of it.
“This dreaded puking will pass in a few weeks.”
He felt something freeze in his soul at the maid’s words. This was not some random illness. Edmond’s mind worked with cold logic. This was the second morning she had been retching before breaking her fast, and last night she had flinched when he sucked at her breast. He had even commented they were delightfully larger and his duchess’s eyes had slid away in discomfort. He knew the symptoms, but it made no sense. These past few weeks he had been very careful to always withdraw, even when she tempted him to be reckless.
“Are you with child?” he asked with dangerous softness.
Adeline stilled. Never had he seen her so lifeless, then he met her gaze. They were filled with raw panic. The fear that rose in him was acrid and sharp. With child… How? “How?”
She squeezed Meg’s hands gently and the maid rose to her feet. She dipped into a quick curtsy to him and darted from the room.
Adeline stood, went to the wash basin and rinsed her mouth, then faced him. Her throat worked but no sound came forth, but he was not mistaken in the anger sparkling in her eyes.
Ice crept over him. “I asked you a question, Duchess.”
She squeezed her eyes closed tightly. “You touched me,” she said softly as if that would explain her betrayal.
He touched her?
Please do not stop, Edmond… How you make me burn, but such a wonderful delightful burn.
The tide of the dream rose in his head. The heat, the sheer joy of being buried in Adel, the tightness, the wetness, the comfort…it had been real. A low groan hissed from the back of his throat and rumbled in the room.
“Edmond,” she said on a softly shuddered breath, her eyes glistening with tears. “I know and I understand your fear, but I promise you I—”
“How?” his voice was a hoarse rasp. He knew the night in the cottage was somehow real, but he needed to hear it from her lips. The night that had been haunting his dreams, where deep in the darkest corners of his heart he had been hoping it was true, had been real? The passion he had tasted—never had he feasted on such wonder, such eroticism…and he’d wanted it to happen in the flesh. How foolish he’d been in his desires, forgetting the consequences of his actions.
Her throat worked to swallow. “You rode hell-bent away on your horse and I could not bear the idea of you being alone with your grief. I followed you and…and when you kissed me, I…we…” Guilt filled her eyes, but she tilted her head defiantly. “You consumed me, and I couldn’t resist the pleasures I felt in your arms.”
The challenge in her eyes nearly felled him.
Silence throbbed in the room like a wound.
“Say something, Edmond.”
Somehow the raw metallic scent of blood slinked into the room and filled his nostrils. There had been so much damn blood. Maryann had wept uncontrollably and pleaded with him to save her, save their baby, and he had stood by helpless, useless, and unable to do anything as she tired from the exertion of pushing, weakened from blood lost. He had watched the hope die from her eyes, and only fear had remained. He had done nothing…but watch in cold silence, trapped in his own hell and failure.
“Edmond?”
Adeline’s soft voice drew him back from the dark fraying edges.
She took a step toward him, anxiety clear in her eyes. “Edmond, I—”
“Get out.”
…
The words were like a solid blow to the center of Adel’s chest.
“Are you referring to my chamber or Rosette Park itself?” she asked with a calm that belied the feelings slashing through her veins.
The smoldering rage and contempt in his eyes frightened her.
“You lied to me.”
She lied to me. He’d sounded broken when he’d confessed what Maryann had done.
“I did not.”
“Now I understand your wariness the morning after. Madam, a lie by omission is deception.”
She closed her eyes. “It was not intentional…I slipped from the cottage and returned to the main house. When I saw you later and realized you had not remembered I-I simply did not want your chastisement, so I did not mention that we were together. I never thought I would have fallen with child.”
“Why did you not reject me when I reached for you?” he snarled.
“I tried.”
He jolted…hard. “I raped you?”
Her throat worked. It would be so easy to say he had coerced her, to avoid the heartache about to come. But that would make her such a monster. “You did not,” she said softly.
A hiss of relief slipped from him. “It has been eight weeks since, all this time you knew you had been at risk and you said nothing.”
“In truth, I had no notion how to broach the topic, Edmond. And I only confirmed
yesterday I am with child, and I am not at risk!”
“You will not give birth in this house.”
She flinched. Her gaze captured his, and within his eyes, she saw the absolute truth. He would not yield. The passionate lover she had fallen in love with melted away, as if he had never been, and her cold duke once more stood in his place. “So it is banishment then?” she asked, her lips trembling. She forcefully flattened them, refusing to cry.
“I do not care where you go for your confinement. I have estates all over England and Scotland. Visit any one of them.”
She gave him a fulminating glare. “You are being cruel and unreasonable. I will need my family with me…I will need you.” There…she was laying her heart bare though he had the power to crush it.
“I will not watch you die!” he snarled. “Nor will I subject Rosa and Sarah to the heartache of losing you.”
Her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking. “How arrogant you are. You are powerful and beyond wealthy, Edmond, but it is not you who determines who lives and who dies. Maryann’s death was not your fault, nor was it hers. It was simply death…inevitability, in this one a very tragic passing. I am with child—your child, and you would think to banish me to some forsaken place without the girls?”
He advanced almost menacingly, and she forced herself to hold her grounds. “If I had not climbed on top of Maryann and rutted until she bred, she would be here today,” he said with shocking crudity. “It was my desire for an heir…a thing that seems so inconsequential now, that pushed her to accommodate me every time, even knowing the danger to her life!”
How did he live with such guilt? Adel hugged herself and bit back a sob. “It was not your doing, Edmond. Even though the doctors had told Maryann not to have any more children…it was still her choice not to inform you, and I know why she did it. Not because she was being foolish or stubborn, but because she had hoped for a son and loved you. She wanted to grant your desire, and she hoped all might be well.”
A cold sneer curved his lips. “And is it that similar hope you possess, Adeline? You, who is slimmer, more petite than Maryann and the hundreds of women that die annually in childbirth. Do you hope you will not perish? Do you hope that the hunger I have for you has not consigned you to an early grave? Is that it, Adeline? Simply damnable hope?” His voice was icy with lethal scorn.
