A Duke's Wild Kiss (Kiss the Wallflower Book 5)

by Tamara Gill

  He stepped from the gate, and the moonlight illuminated his handsome features. Her stomach did a flip, and she grinned, excitement thrumming through her blood. Tonight would be fixed in her mind for the remainder of her days.

  At the age of seven and twenty, she was more than ready to be tupped. If she did end her days as a spinster, at least she would have this one night in his arms.

  "Olivia," he whispered as she came up to him. He hoisted her in his arms and kissed her soundly. The fleeting embrace was not enough and only teased her for what was to come. She shivered, reveling in all that he gave her and clutching him close, having missed him since she'd seen him last evening.

  "Come, I have champagne and oysters prepared in my room. We shall have a feast before I feast on you."

  She let out a breath, already feeling the thrum of need he brought forth in her. "I would not think you would want any more food. How was your dinner at the Cavendish’s?"

  "Uneventful and the food unfortunately tasteless, although I do believe that was because my mind was occupied elsewhere."

  He led her through the gardens, slipping them into the house by the terrace doors. Without being seen, they climbed the main staircase, making their way toward the ducal suite. Olivia had not known what to expect from Jasper's home, but she was surprised at the light, homey, and well-appointed rooms that encompassed the home.

  The walls were adorned with light wallpapers and family portraits. There were flowers arranged throughout the common areas and the home smelled of springtime. His hand tightened on hers as they came to a set of double doors. He turned to her, meeting her gaze. "Are you sure, Olivia? There is no turning back from here."

  She hoped he was correct in that estimation. Olivia reached for the door handle and opened the door herself, pushing it wide. Without a word, she pulled him into the room, locking them away from the world, his staff, society's expectations, everyone.

  To hell with all that nonsense. Tonight, she would sleep with a man, give her whole mind and body to pleasure, and the consequences be damned. She'd worry about them tomorrow.

  They stared at each other. The tension in the air wrapped about her, expectation and need riding hard on her heels. She stepped into his arms, taking his lips.

  He wrapped his arms about her, reaching down to her bottom and hoisting her up in his arms. His steps ate the short distance to his bed. He kneeled on the mattress, laying her down. Olivia calmed her breathing as he rolled her onto her stomach, his hands running up along her legs, kneading her bottom before unbuttoning her dress.

  "Jasper," she gasped as he kissed her neck, his fingers frantically working the laces of her corset, and then she was on her back again. With a wicked light in his eyes, he pulled her dress from her, her corset and shift gone.

  His eyes darkened with need, and she squirmed, her breathing ragged as he simply took his fill, his eyes running hungrily over her naked form.

  "So beautiful." He lifted her foot, sliding his hand along her silk stocking, only to pull it slowly off. She shivered at his touch, his ability to quicken and slow their undressing.

  Olivia reached up, pulling at the knot on his cravat. "Now it's my turn."

  "Not yet,” he teased, standing and stripping without shame. His jacket, waistcoat, and shirt discarded on the floor. In his haste, a button flittered to the floor, his breeches wrenched down without heed to pool at his feet.

  Olivia felt her mouth open at the sight of him naked. She'd never seen a man in such a state before, and certainly, this man, who stood before her, was the epitome of absolute beauty.

  Rippled muscles stole across his abdomen, a light sprinkling of hair on his chest. His manhood was erect and large. Heat stole between her legs wet and aching.

  She bit her lip, wanting him inside her. The need that thrummed through her stole any trepidation she had at being with a man for the first time. He would not hurt her. He would only bring her pleasure.

  Olivia reached for him, and then he was there, over her, kissing her into blissful oblivion. His manhood teased her aching flesh, and she could not wait. She had spent years hoping, wanting a husband, a lover. The time for respite was over.

  Olivia reached down and took him in hand, taking the opportunity to feel him again, tease and stroke his flesh. She placed him at her entrance, liking the way he felt there.

  "I do not want to wait any longer, Jasper."

  He stared down at her, almost nose to nose. "Tell me to fuck you. I want to hear you say it."

  She sobbed, not wanting to play such a game and unsure of what the word he wanted her to state meant, but she could gather the significance of it. Olivia wrapped her arms around his back, scoring her nails down his spine.

  "Fuck me, Jasper." She gasped as he thrust into her. Sensation swamped her, stinging pain, yes, but also fulfillment, pleasure, an ache that wanted to be pet and teased until satisfied.

  He moaned her name, kissing her. Olivia lifted her legs, wrapping them about his back as the small hurt subsided, and then there was nothing but pleasure, satisfaction left in its place. She moved with him, pushed, and strove to reach the pinnacle he'd given her every other time they had been together.

  This, however, making love, was different. It was coarser, harder, felt as though she would split in two if he did not make her come.

  "Jasper," she gasped when he pulled out, flipping her onto her stomach and hoisting her bottom into the air.

  "Stay like that," he commanded, pushing on her back when she went to sit up. "Trust me."

  A shiver stole down her spine as he bent over her, kissing her neck and spine. And then he was there again, entering her from behind, filling and inflaming her more than she thought she could bear. She moaned as his deeper penetration teased a special little place inside.

  She was going to die from the pleasure of it all. However would she live without this, without Jasper, when their game was over? She knew she could not.

  Jasper thrust into Olivia with a desperate need he'd never felt before. He wanted to fuck her in every way he knew. She rode his deep, long strokes, fought for her own pleasure, and he'd almost spilled his seed multiple times as her hot, tight cunny wrapped about him like a glove.

  The slap of skin on skin was music to his ears. His balls tightened, pulled up hard against his cock, and he knew he was close. Olivia's muffled moans into his bedding told him she was as well. He increased his pace, hard, deep thrusts, and then she was there, grappling for purpose on the bedding, moaning his name as she convulsed around him.

  "Fuck, Olivia," he panted, letting himself go. He pulled out, spilling his seed over her ass and up her back, using her sweet cheeks to drain him of his pleasure.

  He collapsed beside her, and she turned, grinning over to him, a self-satisfied smile on her lips.

  "That was utterly wonderful," she sighed, shuffling over to lie in his arms.

  He pulled her close, dropping a kiss on her nose. "Let me catch my breath, and we'll go again."

  She slid up against him like a purring cat. "You can do that again? I fear I shall never leave your bed, should you be so clever."

  He chuckled, rolling her onto her back and settling between her legs. His cock twitched, working its way to being hard yet again. "Oh, yes, I can do that again and more. Just you wait and see."

  "Mmm," she replied, wrapping her legs about his back. "I like the sound of that."

  Jasper groaned when she pushed her wet heat against his cock, making him see stars. He liked the sound of it as well as he thrust inside her a second time in as many minutes, losing himself in her and not caring if he never found himself ever again.

  Chapter 15

  One week later, Olivia sat with Athol in her front drawing room that overlooked Grosvenor square. Her friend all but bounced in her chair, excited with some news she wanted to impart. What that news was, however, Olivia had yet to determine as she'd not stopped fluttering about and ensuring everything was perfect before she told her.

  "
Athol, tell me this news. We're alone now, and you have tea and biscuits just as you asked."

  Athol beamed at her from her seat. "It is the best news, Olivia dear. I am engaged. Lord Berry has offered me his hand, and I have accepted him."

  Olivia remembered to smile. At the same time, she tried to hide her shock. "I did not know Lord Berry had taken such a keen interest in you. I thought you had spent time with Lord Dormer when you were in Bath, and do not forget Lord Oglemoore.”

  A light blush rose on her friend’s cheeks before she waved Olivia's questions aside. "Oglemoore has been long over, and Lord Dormer offered to Miss Wilkins last week. Where have you been, Olivia dear? Surely you heard that news during one of your nights out."

  Olivia sipped her tea, having missed all of this news. The past week had been spent sneaking over to Hamlyn's home, spending countless hours in his arms and bed. Enjoying every kiss and touch he bestowed on her. He was a magnificent lover and one she would struggle to walk away from, now that she'd tasted what being with a man like him was like.

  "Olivia, did you hear me? Are you ill? You're splotchy and red," Athol said, placing down her half-eaten biscuit on the small table before them.

  "I'm quite well, the day is warmer than I dressed for.”

  "Well, are you not pleased for me? I am the happiest woman in the world."

  Olivia smiled. "Of course I'm happy for you, dearest, I'm just startled, that is all. I have not heard of Lord Berry's affections toward you before this day. Are you certain he is the gentleman for you?"

  Athol started at her words, a small frown between her brows. "Of course, he is for me. Are you not happy for me? I know that you have not found a gentleman to marry this Season, but I would have thought as my best friend you would be pleased for me, not jealous."

  Olivia stuttered to form a reply. "Athol, that is unfair. Of course I'm happy for you, but you must admit that you've flitted about from Oglemoore to Dormer and now Lord Berry. It does leave one somewhat turned about."

  "I thought you would be pleased." Athol stood, hastily pulling on her gloves. "It leaves Oglemoore free for you now, as you've always wanted. You may think I did not know that you preferred him. And certainly after your disappointment, which you hid unwell in Kent, told me that was the case. You may marry him now, and all will be well." Athol walked to the door before turning to face her. "That's if the marquess chooses you to be his wife."

  Olivia stood, biting back the tears that threatened at her friend’s harsh words. "It is no lie I thought Oglemoore was courting me last Season, and when I heard of him joining Clara's house party, I did hold a small hope that perhaps he would offer for my hand if his feelings were still engaged. But it has been many weeks now that I have not sought his company or his offer. I want nothing at all from Lord Oglemoore just as you do not."

  "So you are angry and upset with me because he chose me over you, and that is why you cannot be happy for Berry and me. I shall take my leave of you, Olivia, and wish you a good day."

  Olivia watched as her friend flounced from the room without a backward glance or apology. She slumped down onto her settee, lost for words. What had just happened? She had not meant to criticize her friend’s choice, but to ensure she was happy with her decision. Marriage was forever, after all. It was not a decision one ought to make lightly.

  A knock sounded on the door, and she gasped, glancing up to see Mary, the Duchess of Carlton, smiling in greeting. "I hope I'm not interrupting you, Olivia. I thought I would call by. I'm out and about making calls, and I saw Lady Athol leave rather suddenly, and I wanted to make sure everything was well."

  Olivia stood, going to the duchess, and pulling her into the room. "You're always most welcome, Mary. Come, we shall have tea."

  They settled down on the leather settee, the duchess studying her most peculiarly. "What happened between you and Lady Athol? You seem out of sorts to me."

  Olivia sighed, handing the duchess a cup of tea. She rubbed her forehead, a slight ache across her brow. "She is recently engaged to Lord Berry, and I merely asked if she was happy with her choice. She's been so unsettled, allowing different men to court her that it is hard to keep up. She accused me of being jealous."

  "And are you jealous, my dear?" the duchess asked, meeting her gaze over the rim of her teacup.

  "Of course not," Olivia denied. "I am truly happy for Athol, but only several weeks ago she was kissing Lord Oglemoore. One week ago, she was being courted by Lord Dormer. One must admit to being skeptical of her decision making."

  The duchess chuckled, setting down her teacup. "Let her have her choice. If she chooses worse than you would have picked for her, that is her own doing. And talking of gentlemen admirers, what is new with you, Olivia? How is the Season progressing?"

  Excitement thrummed through her, and she shivered at the thought of Jasper. His touch, his kisses, his body that made her burn and come apart into a thousand stars. She would not see him tonight for they were attending different events, but tomorrow she would, and she was already counting down the time until they assembled.

  "The Season has been quite diverting this year. What with Clara's house party to break up the time, and with only a few weeks left in town, I have enjoyed myself immensely."

  The duchess nodded, a small smile playing about her mouth as if she knew something Olivia did not. "I have noticed Hamlyn is spending a great deal of time with you lately. To me, he seems quite taken with you, my dear."

  Did he? She schooled her features, not wanting to burst out into childish laughter at the idea he liked her as much as she was starting to fear she liked him. They had not discussed their original deal for several days now.

  Would Jasper pull away from her if she raised the possibility that her request of him had gone too far? That for her, spending time with him, getting to know him in all ways, not just the façade he portrayed to the ton, but the man behind the door when they were alone and private, had made her heart his. Or would he declare, as she hoped, undying love for her and ask her to be his wife?

  She was not certain what she would do should he still be playing her game and had no emotional attachment to her at all.

  "The duke and I have become friends, yes, but I'm uncertain of his intentions toward me. He has certainly not asked me to be his wife."

  "Do you think he may?" Mary asked, a contemplative look on her pretty face.

  Olivia shrugged, wishing with all her heart he would. "I do not know. That is yet to be seen."

  "Hmm," the duchess said, her eyes narrowing. "I heard that he has parted ways with his mistress, and with his considerable attention toward you, which has not gone unnoticed in town, I wondered if there was something between you or if not, perhaps will be very soon."

  He had parted ways with his mistress?

  Olivia did not know how to answer such a statement, and for the duchess to bring up a duke's lover was far from appropriate. Not that Olivia could say much on the subject of appropriateness after what she had been taking part in the last week. Nights of debauchery and utter unadulterated pleasure.

  "I do not know anything about the duke's private life, Your Grace. But if he does choose me to be his wife, of course I would hope he would part ways with his mistress. I would expect nothing less."

  "Of course you wouldn't, my dear. Just know that should you need any advice or guidance, I am in town and here to help you until your cousin returns."

  "Thank you," Olivia said, seeing the duchess off only a few minutes later. She slumped against the front door after her two visitors for the day, both of whom brought up issues that were taxing and hard to discuss.

  The duchess was right however, she needed to know where this love affair with Jasper was heading, if anywhere at all. She could not remain his lover forever, the risk was too high. And she was an unmarried woman, she didn't even have the cover of being a widow to protect her. Should the ton find out about their escapades, she would be ruined forever and her marriage chances along with it.
>
  They needed to end the affair or marry. Those were the only two options. Olivia pushed off from the door, heading upstairs to bathe and prepare for the ball. At least tonight, she could dance and enjoy her time in the ton and not worry about talking about such matters with Jasper. Their conversation would keep for another day until she saw him again. A small reprieve this day at least.

  Chapter 16

  The widow Lady Craven's ball was a crush, but thankfully the late Earl Mayfair’s home was generous enough to host such an event.

  As expected, Olivia had not seen Jasper here this evening, and yet she had seen Oglemoore, moving about the room and talking to acquaintances since his arrival, not an hour before.

  The Duchess of Carlton was also in attendance and had raised her glass of champagne in salute when they had spied each other across the room.

  Olivia stood speaking with some friends when Oglemoore appeared before her, dipping into a bow. "Miss Quinton, how well you look this evening. Will you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

  She smiled, offering her his hand out of politeness. Certainly her interest in the man had long ceased. In fact, as she placed her hand into his, she had to wonder what she ever saw in the gentleman. He had nothing on Hamlyn, who was amusing, kind, and sweet. Oglemoore had proven himself to be flippant, and after his treatment of her in Kent, she ought not to give him the time of day. Athol was fortunate to be rid of him, truth be said. There was something about the man that left Olivia knowing he would not be faithful or a true husband to any wife. She doubted he would part with his mistress if he chose to marry.

  His lordship stumbled with the steps, and she shot a look at him. "Are you well, my lord?" she asked, moving forward with the dance.

  "Of course." He chuckled.

  She studied him a moment and noticed for the first time his glassy, unclear eyes. Was he foxed?