Page 29 of Good Duke Gone Rogue

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BERNADETTE WAS HAVING A listless sleep again. Conflicting emotions raged against each other. How could one day hold so much? And how was she meant to bear it? She kicked off her sheets, and not more than a second later she heard a tap at the door.

There were few options for what that tap portended. It could be terribly devastating news about the earl. Or it could be terribly exciting news in the shape of a man.

Without a care to cover up, she ambled over to the door and peeked through. Reggie had his hand three quarters of the way up the doorframe, his head hanging down.

She didn’t want to ask, maybe didn’t want to know, why he was here. She just reached out for his other hand, the one hanging down by his thigh, and pulled him in.

To ward off any intrusions, she closed and locked the door behind them. He entered without a word, and she tugged him to her bed. There was a heavy need, thick between them. Still wordless, she urged him into her bed and crawled in next to him.

Quietly she waited with her hand on his chest while he just lay there. His face conveyed nothing, and she had to assume that meant there was no word one way or the other.

Her insides twisted at seeing him like this. She knew all too well what it was like to experience loss. To anticipate loss. So she just held him. With his arm underneath her head, she curled up into his side and tucked her hands around his waist.

She had seen so many sides of Reggie. Had known him since he was a boy. Reckless. Silly. Adventurous. He had been the one to make them all laugh. Her especially. She had seen him drink, and overimbibe. She had heard his good jokes and his jokes in poor taste. She had tasted him, and he had tasted her. She shivered at the thought and smoothed her hands up his torso.Not to entice him, if anything, to still her own wanton thoughts. It wasn’t the time. This was the lowest she had ever seen Reggie, rightly so. And she just needed to be what he needed right now. Whatever that was.

His hand reached for her migrating fingers and stilled them. She could be that for him too.

But then he took her fingers and brought them to his mouth, pressing soft kisses on them. Gradually, she pushed herself up to be closer to his face. Whatever he needed, she would give it to him.

He turned his body so that he was resting on his side, facing her. Two words, that’s all he said, “No news.”

And her heart inflated with hope. There were so many things she could say, so much of which were poor platitudes. Impelled to share her hope, she said, “He’s still fighting.”

He pulled her close, his nose weaved into her hair. “I know,” the whisper rushed over her ear.

It was followed by soft kisses. One placed on her ear. One in her hair. Several down her neck and across her jaw. And then she lost count.

With her arms wrapped around him, she let him explore until he came to her mouth. A gentle kiss stamped the corner of her mouth. His slow sigh invited her to respond.

She could feel something moist between their cheeks, a single tear from one of them.

And as fiery and fast as their kisses were before, they were vulnerable and undemanding now. He nudged her to open her mouth, to deepen the kiss. To explore. To share. To know each other. And she wanted it, with more hunger than she expected. One hand gripped her waist. One arm was lashed around her, securing her to him. His tongue prompted her to search him. To know him more.

Her breasts were heavy against him. Her nipples tingling as they peaked. She hooked her leg up and around his hip, pressing her core against him. Offering herself to him.

“Detta,” he groaned. “I want to go slow. Feel everything. I want to be inside of you, and I want to feel you squeeze every inch of me as I enter you.”

“Yes,” she hissed. Her body aflame. Pyrotechnics were shooting through her, every limb. Every cell. She would cover him with her body, just as she had covered his hand earlier. She rolled on top of him, unbuttoning his breeches. She had never really been in this position before, except on the coach, that first night. But neither had she been in any of the positions she had tried with Reggie. Her body would lead her, and Reggie would guide her if needed.

She straddled him, watching his cock strain upward toward her. He had laved kisses on her core, perhaps she could do the same for him.

She leaned down to kiss the ruddy head. A bead of moisture awaited her. When she licked him, Reggie groaned and stifled a bucking motion.

“Am I…allowed to do that?”

“God, yes,” his breath expelled from his rigid body. “But if you do that, I won’t be able to go slow.”

His hands clutched her hips. “Sit on my cock, Detta. Lower yourself slowly. Take me in.”

Her body shuddered at his words, but it was all she wanted. To have him tucked inside of her.

Placing her hands on his chest, she raised her hips up and back. Her breasts inclined slightly toward his face.

She lowered herself down to meet his tip. “Like this?” she meant to ask, but it came out as a groan.

He responded in kind.

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