Kiss Me, Duke: League of Unweddable Gentlemen, Book 5

by Gill, Tamara

  The carriage rolled through the streets, the sounds and smells of Rome but a passing thought as he took her, hard and fast in their enclosed sanctuary. Molly held on to him for purpose, riding him as he instructed. The position gave her power over him she liked, a heady experience that Hugh seemed to savor as well.

  She kissed him, lifting herself and using the carriage’s rocking movement to her advantage.

  “Yes, fuck me. God damn it, you’re beautiful and mine. All mine.”

  “Yes,” she gasped as the first tremors of pleasure started to thrum through her body. Molly wanted more of the same, greedy for the pleasure he could launch into her life. She slammed down on him, took her pleasure, rode his manhood, and pushed herself into the abyss of ecstasy.

  Hugh kissed her scream into submission as their mouths and bodies fused. His own moan tangled with hers.

  She slumped against him, half on his lap and the cushioned seat. “I do not think I shall ever view a carriage ride the same.”

  He grinned down at her, a small flush spreading across his cheeks and making him look like a green lad who’d just been extremely naughty with a woman. “I aim to please and show you all the magnificent heights of this city that you can have.”

  Molly chuckled, laying her head on his shoulder and looking out the window. “We did not even close the blinds. I hope no one was watching our carriage too closely.”

  He shrugged, one hand idly rubbing her arm just below her sleeve. “Let them talk should they have seen us. I was making love with my wife. There is no sin in that.”

  No, she mused. There was not.

  Hugh was the veriest bastard under the sun, but he would repair his sin. He would make things right with Molly when he told her the truth. He just needed time. Now that she was not returning to England, he would explain to her the truth of his past, why he was in Rome, and face her wrath then.

  When she could not run away from him. Not without a fight.

  With Molly’s humble family, it was a possibility that she’d never even heard of his family, of what he was charged with having done. His brother had not married, had merely carried on his wayward ways, except Hugh supposed he did learn a valuable lesson in not dallying with unmarried maids and kept his bed partners to widows or married women.

  He was thankful that not all his friends had thought him a cad, had not believed the slur on his name. The Duke of Whitstone one of them. His Grace had been at his estate when his brother’s missive had descended on him, demanding he take the fall.

  Had Whitstone not been visiting his home when his brother’s note arrived, his good friend too may have not have believed him. Hugh was far from a saint and had had his fair share of lovers, although he’d never dallied with virginal debutantes.

  Stupid Henry had ruined so many things the day he wet his cock in a cunny that he should never have touched.

  Molly, too was friends with Whitstone and trusted the duke. If he wrote to his friend, had him help him explain that was he was accused of was incorrect, there may be no impediment to their marriage working.

  He could not lose her now. He loved her with an intensity that scared him and one he’d not thought to ever experience.

  Hugh helped her alight from the carriage. He leaned down, picking her up before carrying her over the threshold of their villa, their home, and where he hoped they would start a family. Thanking the staff who lined up to congratulate them, they hastily made their way upstairs toward his suite of rooms. Their room from this night onward. He slammed the door closed, turning the lock and shutting the world away from their sanctuary.

  Molly made short work of her gown, throwing her veil to the side and stepping out of her silk slippers as she watched him. Her luscious hair fell about her shoulders, her eyes glinting with expectation.

  Hugh ripped his cravat free. His coat and waistcoat soon followed along with his breeches. “Get on the bed,” he ordered, striding over to her with a casual air that was the opposite to how he felt.

  Inside, his body quivered with need. Already he wanted her again. To lose himself in her hot, tight cunny. To make love to the woman who was a gift he’d not thought to ever receive.

  “What are you going to do to me?” She did as he bade, sitting on the bed before scuttling back a little on the linen.

  Hugh came to stand before her. He dropped to his knees. Her eyes widened, and she let out a little squeal when he clasped her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the mattress.

  “Lay back,” he ordered. Without question, she did as he asked, her breathing ragged. He took in her beauty, her small stomach he hoped would bloom and stretch with their children in years to come. He pushed her legs apart, giving him a view of her cunny. She glistened in the afternoon light, and the musky, sweet scent of her teased his senses.

  His mouth watered with the thought of tasting her, eating her until he was sated. His cock twitched, jutting out in front of him, primed and ready. He stoked it quickly, teasing himself. He wanted to come, to fuck her, but that could wait. Right now, he wanted to make her shatter on his lips. To hear her scream his name and grind herself against his face like he’d dreamed about this past week.

  He cast a quick look up at Molly and found her watching him, her perfect, white teeth clamping her bottom lip in expectation. Hugh reached up, sliding his hand across her stomach to squeeze her breast. “You’re going to love this, my love.”

  Hugh leaned forward, kissing his way up her leg, taking little love bites as he went. She squirmed under his assault, and he grinned, knowing there would be a lot more squirming by the end of the night.

  He licked her skin, it smelled of spring flowers. Hell, she was sweet, so willing and reactive. He was a lucky man to have married such a woman. He licked his lips, rubbing his thumb over her nubbin, coating his finger in her juices. She moaned but didn’t shy away from his touch, instead, she spread her legs wider, her wicked gaze begging him to do more.

  Oh, he’d do more, so much more before they had finished their first night as a married couple. Unable to wait a moment longer, he slid his tongue along her cunny. He used slow, smooth strokes, the need to savor the taste of her on his lips stopping him from rushing. Her fingers clamped into his hair, holding him at her core, and he ate her sweet petal, licking and flicking her receptive nubbin until she was writhing with need.

  He had imagined Molly just so, letting him bring her to climax. Hugh placed his hands beneath her bottom, pulling her closer to his mouth and kissed her there. Used his tongue to tease, to delve. With one finger, he slipped into her. Her body clamped down on him, and his cock twitched, beaded with his own seed.

  So tight. So hot.

  Patience, he reminded himself. This right now was all for his wife. To give her pleasure without having to receive any in return. Not physically, in any case. In truth, however, his cock stood erect, poised for release. To give pleasure was just as exciting as receiving in his estimation.

  She rode him, lost all inhibitions, and let him love her. His mouth made love to her, his finger teasing and giving a glimpse of what was to come. His cock.

  “Oh, Hugh. Yes. Ohhh,” she said, her thrusts frenzied. Almost there. He grinned, flicking her nubbin one last time. She broke apart before him, arms outstretched above her head, her body riding his face without thought or care.

  She was fucking marvelous.

  Chapter 10

  The day after their wedding, Hugh surprised Molly with a trip to his villa in Naples. The carriage journey took several days, but upon arriving at his villa, which overlooked the Bay of Naples, she realized the jarring of her bones and numbness of her bottom was well worth the discomfort.

  Behind the villa were fields of grapevines, ideal growing in the rich volcanic soil. They were abundant and the deepest green she'd ever beheld, and already an abundance of grapes hung heavy on the vine.

  Molly stood out the front of the villa on her first night, Naples lights tinkling in the early evening, the sunset a rich red an
d orange. Still visible in the distance was the majestic Mt. Vesuvius.

  Hugh came up behind her, wrapping his arms about her waist. "Do you wish to see Pompei and Herculaneum? We can travel down there in a day or two if it pleases you."

  Molly clasped his arms, holding him to her. It was surreal that she was here, married, and in love. So much had happened to her in such a short period of time that if her feet were not firmly on the ground, she might swoon.

  "You're spoiling me. My friend Hallie will be terribly jealous when I tell her of all the places that I've been to."

  "She enjoys travel as much as you?" His words tickled her ear, and she shivered in the warm, evening air.

  "She lived in Egypt for some years. She's a historian, but is now married to the Viscount Duncannon."

  "Arthur?" Hugh said.

  Molly turned to him, meeting his gaze. "Do you know Lord Duncannon too? I did not know that you knew many other people in the ton other than the Duke of Whitstone."

  "I, um, know a little of him, yes. Through Whitstone."

  Molly wondered at his words before he pulled her into the room just off the balcony where his housekeeper here had served up cold meats, bread, and pasta for dinner. Molly sat and smiled as Hugh didn't move to the end of the table, but sat beside her, reaching out to pick up her hand and kiss it.

  "I'm so very fortunate to have you as my wife. I want to spoil you most definitely, so tell me what you would like to do tomorrow. We may go and see if the gardeners at the Royal Palace of Caserta will allow us to walk the grounds. The building is as majestic as Versailles."

  "Truly?" Molly had never heard of such a place, but having seen and adored Versailles, another such building of similar architectural beauty would be an excellent location to visit. "I would love that. May we also visit the sea? They say the water is aqua in color, and I want to know if that is true."

  Hugh chuckled, placing a large portion of chicken and ham onto his plate, along with a good helping of pasta. "Your wish is my command, my love. Do you wish to go sea bathing? I can arrange that for you as well if you like."

  Excitement thrummed through her veins, and Molly knew she was grinning like a spoiled child getting everything that she wished. "Will you join me if I do?"

  The heated look he threw her sent her blood to pump hard in her veins, and she clasped her stomach to stop its fluttering. "Do you need ask?"

  Molly bit her lip, spooning a mouthful of pasta into her mouth. "No, but I wanted to make certain just in case."

  Their days in Naples were full of laughter and pleasure. Simply the two of them, exploring, learning, and always loving when they came together at night.

  Pompeii and Herculaneum took some days to visit. Walking about the areas of Pompeii, especially, left Molly with a sense of the gravity of what had happened to the people there. The excavation of the buried city was in its infancy, from looking at what had been unearthed so far, so much more of the ancient city remained hidden.

  They had walked the beach in the Bay of Naples, and sea bathed just as Hugh had promised. The weeks sped by, and before she knew it, they had been in Naples a month.

  They returned to Rome tomorrow, and Molly had to admit she did not want to leave. This city, its beauty, the mountains, and fields full of fertile, rich crops had imbedded into her heart, much like the man sitting at his desk right at this moment.

  Molly put down the knitting she had started while here and stood, walking over to his desk. She ran her hands over his shoulders, sliding them down over his arms and peeking at the many letters that sat scattered before him.

  He leaned back in his chair, smiling up at her. "What are you up to, my darling wife?"

  She chuckled, coming about and sitting herself down on his lap. He adjusted her, hugging her to him before kissing her soundly. Molly melted into his arms, knowing when they returned to Rome, she would count down the days until they were back here again, alone and in their own little cocoon.

  She ran her hands through his hair, putting it on end. "Thank you for this wonderful holiday. I feel so very blessed to have found you."

  "No, it is I who has been honored. I feel I shall never be able to pay Whitstone back for the tremendous deed he's done by sending you to me."

  Molly chuckled. "I'm certain he could think of something. Probably involve buying a thoroughbred if I'm to guess correctly."

  Hugh nodded, his gaze darkening with desire. "No doubt."

  * * *

  Hugh lifted Molly to sit on his desk. Her delectable rump in his lap drove him to distraction, and for the past hour of working on paperwork from his estate here in Naples, he'd not been able to concentrate.

  The sight of his wife, biting her lip, and attempting to knit, which did not seem to be a skill she was very adept at had warmed his blood. When she'd finally come over to see what he was about, he knew he would not let her go again.

  Papers scattered to the floor. He slid his hand along her leg, liking that his wife had disregarded her use of stockings in the Italian heat. Her soft skin tempted him like no other, and he squeezed her thigh, electing a sigh from her delectable lips.

  He could not wait a moment longer, and kissed her, pulled her to the edge of the desk and stepped between her legs. She opened for him, lifting her leg to rest about his waist.

  Hugh fumbled for his front falls, ripping them open and freeing his hard cock, and then he was in her. They gasped at the contact, each time they came together was like the first. Hugh wondered if it would always be like this with Molly—all-consuming and wild, as hot as the midday sun.

  She moaned, laying back on the desk, and she was his to have. Seeing her before him, his for the taking, her breasts rocking with each thrust caused his balls to tighten, his cock to swell.

  He ran his hand up her hip to her breast, squeezing the ample flesh just as she liked. Hugh leaned over her, thrusting deeper, harder, and he knew she was close.

  She mewled beneath him, without fear or reserve. She sighed his name, her hands reaching behind her for the desk's edge for purchase.

  Hugh brought his hand down to her cunny, wet and tight. He slid his thumb over her engorged nubbin, and she came apart beneath him. Her core convulsing and pulling his own release forward.

  Hugh fucked her hard, let himself go over the edge before slumping beside her on his desk, heedless of the mess their lovemaking had caused.

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly with exertion, and he laughed, feeling his own heart beat hard and loud in his chest.

  "I do not think I shall ever get tired of such an activity. You've positively ruined me forever."

  He sighed, pulling her into the crook of his arm. "I adore you too," he said, kissing her temple. "Shall we adjourn to the bathhouse? I know how much you love to bathe."

  She grinned, her cheeks a light-pink shade that made his heart miss a beat. "You know me so well, husband. Let us go."

  A week later, Molly woke in their bedroom in Rome, so very thankful that the world was a different place to where it was only a month before. She was a wife. Mrs Molly Armstrong. The thought could not make her happier.

  She sighed, rolling over and smiling at the curtains that billowed in the morning breeze. Hugh was not beside her, but then he often was not in the morning. An early riser her husband seemed to be, and was the opposite of who Molly had always been. But then, her seeking him out in his office had become a bit of a game, and a most pleasurable one each day.

  A knock sounded on her door, and she bade enter her new lady’s maid, a young Italian woman who was the housekeeper's granddaughter. The young woman had wanted to rise above being a maid in the household and had come to Molly, asking if she may practice as her maid.

  She had agreed straightaway, and Miss Sinclair seemed only too happy to go back to her ways of watching from afar, and reading each day and not having to be so very busy trying to keep a watch on Molly. Now that she was a wife, Miss Sinclair had agreed to stay for a few more weeks and then travel back to Lon
don. Although from the growing affection between her companion and Marcus, something told Molly that a second wedding may soon occur.

  Cassia bobbed a quick curtsy, before holding up two gowns neatly pressed. "Good morning, Signora Molly. What dress would you prefer for the ball this evening?"

  Ah yes, the Earl and Countess Brandon's ball that she had been invited to. Hugh had been less pleased for Molly to attend, and it was odd that the invitation had only been addressed to her. Perhaps Lady Brandon had not heard of her marriage and still assumed she was visiting Rome alone with her companion.

  "The red silk is very pretty. I shall wear that tonight."

  "You shall look beautiful in the dress," Hugh's deep baritone said from the doorway. He leaned against the stone, a contemplative look on his handsome visage.

  Butterflies took flight in Molly's stomach, and she jumped from the bed, dismissing her maid who scurried from the room. She pulled Hugh toward a seat that sat before their unlit hearth. "Sit," she ordered him. His eyes widened in question before he did as she bade.

  "What are you doing?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his orbs.

  Molly kneeled before him, running her hands along the top of his thighs, the buckskin breeches under her palms soft to touch, and yet the muscle beneath bunched and pulled tight.

  "If I'm to look fetching in my gown, it is only because I've married the most handsome man in Italy, and he's my escort."

  "About that," he said, running a hand over his jaw. "I cannot attend the ball this evening. Some estate business has arrived from England that I need to go over. I'm very sorry, my love. Will you forgive me?" He leaned forward, kissing her. His lips were soft, warm, and desire thrummed in her veins.

  Would it always be like this for her with Hugh? Would she always crave him as much as she wanted him at this very moment?

  "I can attend on my own. I'm sure I shall endure the ball very well without you, but I shall miss you." She smiled, wanting to put him at ease. "I am, after all, quite used to attending such events by myself."