Dukes Are Forever

by Bec McMaster

  "This old thing?" A strange light filled her eyes as she reached for his collar. "No. I've worn it many times."

  "It looks... different."

  "That's because I'm not wearing a stitch underneath it," Adele whispered as she began to fix his cravat.

  Tension slid through him.

  Two could play at this game.

  "An excellent opening salvo," he admitted.

  "I've been thinking," she murmured. "You said I was in control of how far matters between us went."

  "And? What did you decide?"

  "You've never kissed me."

  His smile slipped. Unlike Devoncourt, he wanted to say, but the surge of emotion that came with the thought was a trifle bothering. "I kissed you the day we married."

  "The barest touch of your lips to mine."

  "And that's what you desire most? Right this second? A kiss?"

  A kiss was intimate.

  Unnecessary for what they planned.

  It seemed an odd request. But he could see the answer in her eyes. Yes. She wanted that kiss. She wanted his kiss.

  Was that the angle he could work to win this game between them?

  "I will trade you," he said. "A kiss on your lips in exchange for a kiss elsewhere."

  Those green eyes sharpened. "Elsewhere?"

  "Wherever I desire."

  He watched the turmoil race across her expression. Need. Want. And yet, suspicion.

  "Why do I feel like I'm walking into a trap?"

  Because you are, my dear.

  "You've already kissed me elsewhere." A hot blush stained her cheeks as she no doubt remembered that interlude in the carriage.

  "But not everywhere," he pointed out. "I promise you will enjoy it."

  "I'm sure I will. One kiss," she finally conceded. "For another."

  "Wherever I choose."

  "Only if your kiss is worth it."

  Malloryn smiled. "You like making rules."

  "I like being in control. You've always been the one who made the rules between us." Adele eyed him with a challenging glint, and he realized she expected her kiss now.

  Malloryn stepped forward, his nerves thrumming with anticipation. "You place such a high price on such a simple exchange. One would think you'd never been kissed."

  "A dozen times," she admitted. "But never by my husband."

  Malloryn stroked his thumb across her mouth. All pretty and pink, glistening with moisture. It was the type of mouth that could hypnotize a man, if he wasn't careful. His voice dropped. "Then he is a fool."

  "I like to think so too."

  A breathless laugh escaped him. Every time he thought he had control of the situation, she would surprise him.

  "I've never kissed my wife either. I've thought about it. Sometimes."

  In the dark of night, when he listened to her breathing on the other side of that door.

  More than once he'd woken from fevered dreams of Russia, desperate to turn his mind from such nightmares. He'd refused to allow the servants to leave a lantern burning at night to still the dark, and those moments where he woke—disorientated and confused—were the worst.

  She'd been his escape.

  Even as he feared to reach out and find himself locked inside the Iron Maiden Jelena had put him in, he would hear Adele's soft breathing. If he concentrated, he could make out the slow, steady throb of her heart. An anchor in the dark. A means to remind himself he was safe, in his bed, in his house.

  Not alone.

  And as the panic surged, a crushing wave seeking to drown him in the darkness again, he'd use anything to force it back. Even memories of her.

  "Now I know you're lying," Adele chided.

  "No. I'm not." Malloryn realized his finger pressed against her lip and he hadn't moved. "I don't want to think about kissing her," he confessed. "But sometimes, in the middle of the night, I do. I think about that time in the tower, when I came back to myself with my lips on her skin. I think about the soft gasps she made. The way the skin of her inner thigh felt like silk beneath my fingers."

  He ran the pad of his thumb across her lower lip in a hypnotic action. Back and forth. So soft. A shiver ran through her, but Adele merely parted her mouth, and, never taking her eyes off him, sucked on the end of his thumb.

  Heat flared through him.

  His cock had long since roused, but as he felt the sharp edge of her teeth, it flexed eagerly.

  "And sometimes I've wondered if her mouth is as soft as it looks," he whispered, fingers stroking her cheeks as he leaned down and replaced his thumb with his mouth.

  Adele's lashes fluttered shut as she tilted up to him. Their lips met, the barest of touches, a replay of the kiss he'd granted her on the day of their wedding.

  But this time he pressed deeper.

  Took more.

  He stole the breath from her lungs with a gentle, devastating caress. The taste of her morning's lemon tarts was still on her tongue, and he sought to drink it from her mouth, as if he could steal that too.

  Palms slid up his chest as Adele opened beneath him. It was intoxicating, how swiftly passion burned to life between them. He felt like he'd been waiting months for this, hard and aching in his bed, while the door provided sturdy barrier between them. The soft slick of her tongue darted out, touching his. He'd meant this to be a seduction of the senses, but for the first time, he realized it wasn't just Adele who was being seduced.

  The words had gotten to him too.

  Because they'd been the truth.

  She exhaled, and he tasted her breath in his mouth as he slowly licked her tongue. Adele wilted against him, soft arms sliding around his neck as her breasts were crushed against his chest.

  And there was the craving, rising in his veins, wanting, demanding.

  The darkness of his very soul seeking release.

  A growl escaped him as Malloryn slid one hand down the smooth flex of her spine, finding the curve of her bottom. She, too, hadn't been lying. She was wearing not a stitch beneath the silk. Fingers sinking into such luscious flesh, he ground her hips to his, relishing in the feel of her soft body against the fierce ache of his cock.

  Adele's eyes went wide as she drew back from the kiss with a gasp, her lips passion-swollen and as pink as raspberries. He had only to track her swift downwards gaze to realize he'd surprised her.

  She might kiss and flirt like the devil, but she'd been honest: She was an innocent through and through.

  And he needed to get a hold of himself.

  Eyes glazed, he rested his forehead against hers. "I believe it is time for my kiss."

  "Do you think you earned it?"

  "I know I did." He pushed closer, brushing his lips against her cheek, and trailing them across her ear. One hand slipped the cap sleeve of her gown from her shoulder. "But you can try and deny it."

  Adele shivered. "Do your worst then."

  She had no idea what he intended.

  Brushing his mouth across her bare shoulder, he slid his hands down to her hips. And then he hauled her up into his arms, and strode toward the bed.

  "What are you doing?" she squeaked.

  He tossed her down on the bed and knelt between her thighs, his knees trapping her skirts as he leaned over her. "You just threw down your gauntlet. I am merely returning the favor." A smile escaped him. "Did you think it would be that easy? An exchange of kisses?"

  "No." Her eyes seemed a little wild.

  Oh, this was going to be fun.

  "What are you planning?"

  "Use your imagination, Adele." He bent lower, breath whispering across the lace of her décolletage. "Maybe I wanted to see whether you were telling the truth, my dear."

  "About?"

  "Whether you were wearing a stitch...."

  Capturing her knee, he dragged it up against his hip. Her skirts fell to her knee, leaving nothing but her stockings beneath his palm.

  "It's the middle of the day!"

  "Yes."He slid her skirts up slowly, so slowly. Thumb
catching on her garter, he stroked back and forth, enjoying both the feel of the material and the sudden look on her face. "Won't the maids be scandalized?"

  "You said—"

  "Anywhere."

  "Yes, but...." Her eyes widened. "But...."

  He pressed a finger to her pretty rosebud mouth. "My choice, Adele."

  A heated shiver ran through her as he dragged that finger down over her stubborn chin and throat. Hooked it in her bodice and tugged the garment lower, until her nipple threatened to escape.

  "Here?" he whispered.

  She lay utterly still, barely breathing, as if to see where that finger would end up.

  "Or here?" He kept going, their eyes locking, as the fabric covering her abdomen shirred beneath his stroke, lower, lower—

  There.

  Adele froze.

  And then her thighs clamped on either side of his hips, and that breath finally escaped her, as if she realized there was no escape.

  "You wouldn't," she gasped.

  "All pretty and pink, just like your mouth. I wonder if it will taste as sweet?"

  Malloryn tugged at his cravat, drawing it loose from his throat.

  She watched every movement he made as shock gave way to sudden curiosity.

  Capturing her hands, he knotted the cravat around them, and then glanced at the scrolled iron headboard. Perfect. Malloryn bound her wrists over her head and then eased back onto his knees as he surveyed her.

  "What are you doing?" She arched her spine to look over her head at where she was tied.

  "You're the one who wanted the barbarian. So now he is throwing you down on your bed and tying you to it."

  "I never said—"

  "Oh, I know." Malloryn lowered himself over her, hovering on his knuckles. "But you've mentioned it once or twice now. I think the idea isn't as appalling as you pretend it is. You were right, my sweet." He nipped at her lip as he confessed, "There is something inside me that enjoys the idea of ravishing you. But there's something inside you that wants to be ravished. I could see it in your eyes. I can hear it in the rush of your breath. And if I stroked between your thighs right now, I'm sure I would feel it." His voice grew a little rough. "You're wet, aren't you, Adele? So. Damned. Wet. I want to taste it on my tongue."

  Another half-strangled squeak wheezed from her.

  Malloryn smiled as he brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. So pretty. "You wanted a kiss. Will you let me kiss you there?"

  She took command of herself with a firm hand, glaring at him boldly. "You're the one playing the ravishing barbarian. I thought he'd simply take what he wanted."

  "Ah, ah, ah," he chided. "Say it. Will you let me kiss you there? And just so you are forewarned, my dear, it will be an exact reenactment of the one I bestowed upon your mouth."

  Her clever little mind raced, but he could see the moment she capitulated. Or was it capitulation? For she looked at him with a boldness he'd not expected. "Never let it be said that I renege on the deals I make."

  He barked a laugh. "No, never."

  Under his touch, the slither of her silk skirts whispered up her thighs. The only thing she wore was her stockings, he saw immediately. White silk stockings with pretty pink garters. Ribbons and lace. Decedent and sensuous, in a place that only he would ever see.

  "Were these for me?" He suddenly wanted the answer to be yes.

  "Who else?"

  But she swallowed and watched as he slowly, slowly slid her skirts higher. Pausing just before the apex of her thighs.

  "Show me," he whispered, for the fun wasn't only in giving her pleasure, but making her concede.

  Inch by inch her thighs widened, even as her breath caught in her chest. Adele closed her eyes at the last moment, the hem of her skirt hiding her from view.

  "Wider," he whispered.

  And, blushing prettily, she spread her thighs, revealing all.

  He wanted to devour her.

  He wanted to make her scream and beg, and concede this first round in the war between them.

  Brushing his lips against her thigh, Malloryn breathed in her scent. A flinch went through her at the touch, but not one of denial. Instead, he heard her breathe in....

  And then hold it.

  "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his tongue darting out to taste her skin as he nudged her thighs wider.

  He pressed a gentle, nuzzling kiss to her damp flesh.

  "Malloryn." A single word. A moan.

  Not quite a plea.

  Not yet.

  It would be.

  Adele's spine arched, her thighs trembling as she clearly fought the urge to close them. Malloryn looked up the length of her body, delighted to see the heated flash of her green eyes upon him.

  "Did you like the stroke of my tongue against yours?"

  Her head thrashed back against the pillow, and she strained at his cravat. "Absolutely not. It was horrid."

  Defiant until the end.

  He laughed. "We'll see if you like this better then?"

  Thumbs spreading her, he lowered his mouth and claimed her, his tongue plunging into the warm, wet heat of her. Adele cried out, her thighs clenching around his head, but there was no stopping him. Not now.

  It was an echo of what they'd done with their mouths. A deep kiss, right at the heart of her, tongue lashing over the swollen, aching quiver of her clitoris as Adele gasped, and cursed, and writhed in her bonds.

  Shock gave way to pleasure in her voice.

  She was begging now, lifting to meet him, her hips arching. Splaying a hand over her abdomen, he pushed her down, and looked up the length of her body to see the damage he'd done written all over her expressive face.

  Biting her lip, she threw her head from side to side. "Oh, my God."

  Suckling her heated flesh, he gave himself over to the taste of her. Let himself take what he wanted in hungry, claiming caresses. Soft, helpless cries tore from her lips, urging him on.

  He wanted her undone.

  He wanted to punish her for going to Devoncourt last night after she'd challenged him in the garden.

  He wanted to make her forget any other men who'd ever crossed her path....

  His. She would belong to him and him only by the time he was through with her. Malloryn slowed, the rasp of his stubble branding her thighs as he pushed her right to the edge and felt it quiver within her.

  Her fingers clenched and unclenched in their bonds, and her wrists strained white as she gasped and looked down, passion-drenched eyes bleeding a stormy, turbulent green.

  Their gazes caught and held.

  The shock of connection made him ache viciously as he nuzzled against her slick flesh. He wanted her to see him like this. Wanted her to know who brought such ruin upon her. Enemy agent or no enemy agent, he was suddenly determined to bring her to wrack and ruin.

  But first....

  "Say 'please,' Adele," he whispered, blowing cool air over her heated skin.

  For a second he thought she wouldn't do it. Submitting wasn't in her nature. And he kissed her slowly, fingers sliding into her wet sheath as he tortured her with the promise of pleasure and never quite gave it to her.

  "Please."

  The word was torn from her.

  "Oh, God. Please!"

  Her release was just as wild and unfeigned as it had been in the carriage. Malloryn captured her hips, holding her spread beneath him as he licked and suckled and pushed her through a firestorm of passion.

  A scream forced its way free of her as she came.

  God, he wanted to tear his trousers open, free his straining erection, and plunge into her wet and willing body. He stayed with her through every ruinous moment, loving the helpless quakes her body made as he nuzzled her and ate at her.

  And then she was collapsing back onto the mattress in a sprawl of sweat-dazed limbs and trembling aftermath.

  Mine, he thought, with a dark smile.

  He rose to his knees, ignoring the insistent press of his erection as he wi
ped his mouth. The musky taste of her stirred the darkness within him. His heart pounded, and all the blood rushed through his veins. Take her, whispered his hunger. She was right there, spread open like a flower beneath him.

  But he hadn't won yet.

  And he wanted her to know he'd beaten her at this little game.

  "Delicious," Malloryn whispered as he tugged her skirts back down. "You make the prettiest noises."

  "You bastard," Adele breathed, but it wasn't in fury. No, she looked soft and rumpled and delightfully undone.

  It was difficult to see her as a ruthless spy while she lay on the bed like this.

  Difficult to see her as anything more than a breathless wife just experiencing her first taste of passion. He very much wanted to explore further.

  "Tell me," he murmured, leaning over her and stroking his finger across her lower lip, "which kiss did you prefer? Yours? Or mine?"

  Adele bit his finger, her eyes dangerous. "Tell me," she rasped, her voice low and smoky, "how much do you want me to ask for more? Since I control how far this goes?"

  Malloryn held his breath.

  And then he smiled.

  "It would be too easy."

  Leaning down, he painted a whisper of a kiss across her swollen mouth, his tongue licking hers, before he broke free and drew back.

  "I believe that is check. And mate. Have a lovely afternoon, my sweet." Malloryn tugged his cravat free from the bedhead with a small smirk. "Give my regards to your modiste. This was my round."

  Chapter 8

  Modiste be damned.

  Adele fumed as she paced the parlor of Lena's house, her skirts swishing around her ankles.

  It was becoming quite apparent she was outclassed in every way that mattered when it came to seducing her husband. He had— And then she'd—

  Her breath caught. Oh, God. She could still feel his hands and mouth on her skin. Still hear her soft gasps and desperate pleas.

  How mortifying.

  How frustrating.

  How... insanely pleasurable it had all been.

  "What on earth are you doing?" Lena's voice rang from the doorway. "Adele, what is it? You look beside yourself."

  "I need help," she said, knotting her hands into small fists. "I couldn't think of anyone else I could turn to. Especially not with this small problem I am facing."