Page 82 of Dukes Do It Better
I have so many secrets, I tell lies about my lies. But you? What I will feel for you will be truth. I can’t come to you unbroken, undamaged, or virginal. But I will come to you as myself. And for once, that will be enough.
—Journal entry, April 8, 1824
Malachi would swear his heart stopped from lack of blood. In between heartbeats, every chamber emptied and flooded his cock.
Holy hell. Emma was spread on the bed naked, with her hand between her legs, as if she was waiting for him. Maybe she was.
His gaze fell to the wooden phallus by her hip.
Fine, maybe not.
“I heard you pacing and thought you might still be awake. I…see you are.”
Emma huffed out a sound that was part laugh, part sigh. “How do you always find me in odd moments?”
Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it and drank her in, since she hadn’t moved to cover herself. “I wouldn’t call this odd. Erotic as hell. Tempting. A little disappointed you didn’t call me in to join, if I’m honest.”
She rose to rest on her elbows and parted her knees a little more with a raised brow. The erection that had thrummed to life so fast now twitched in his breeches as if begging for attention.
“Like what you see, Captain?”
“You know I do.”
“I was resisting the urge to cross the hall.” The way her eyes drank him in, taking in his bare chest and the tent in the front of his breeches, was encouraging. A lifelong commitment may not be a certainty, but there could be no doubt that she wanted him in the bedchamber as much as he wanted her.
“Would you like me to leave?” He smoothed one hand over the hardness making his clothes uncomfortable, and Emma replied with a muffled groan.
“Not really.” Her breathless answer made his cock jump anew.
“Want me there, or here?” Wrapping a hand around the length of himself, he squeezed.
A playful quirk of her lips was his only warning. Emma let her knees fall wide and swiped her fingers through her lower curls. “We’ve never watched each other before. Stay there. But I want to see you too. Fair’s fair, after all.”
With trembling fingers, he unfastened the placket on his breeches and sighed with relief when his cock sprang free. Emma groaned softly at the sight, then dipped her fingers into her wet heat in a move designed to capture his attention.
He knew that quim. The scent, and taste, were imprinted on him forever. Lantern light gleamed off the moisture on her fingers and he lost his breath at the sight. “Aw hell, Em.”
“Touch yourself again,” she demanded, and picked up the dildo beside her.
For the rest of his days, he would never forget the sight of that length disappearing inside her, or the way her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth formed a little O of appreciation. Sliding his hand along his cock as another lucky piece of wood slid into the woman he loved was a bittersweet pleasure.
Waves crashed outside in a familiar song. All those nights underway, he’d thought of her—the golden beauty he’d enjoyed for one night—and touched himself just like this.
“What were you thinking about when I walked in?” he asked, spreading a bead of moisture over the tip of his cock with his thumb. A surge of arousal shot up to his core at the movement.
“You,” she panted, one hand working the wood, and the other thrumming her clitoris. “With your mouth between my legs, tasting me as we sprawled on the grass under the sun. You pushed my skirts up around my hips and I gripped your hair.”
He grunted, matching his strokes with the rhythm she set. Heat built in his thighs, and he leaned heavier against the door. “I’m dying to touch you.” The words sounded like they were made of gravel.
Although she smiled, she shook her head and stared right back at him. Her pace quickened along with her breath, but she managed, “I want to watch you tonight.”
Then he’d let her watch him. This playful temptress was familiar. But then, she’d always given herself to him in bed, while hiding the rest of her. His lovely Emma spent so much of her life protecting parts of herself, in that moment, when she was open and vulnerable, it felt more important to ensure she believe he saw her—all of her—and loved what he saw. Especially after they’d both made such an effort this afternoon to be honest about everything.
“Right now, you look like a fantasy I’ve had for months. Ever since the first time I saw you, laughing on the street in the village, you’ve taken my breath away. I never dreamed I’d be allowed to be with you for more than one night.”
She hesitated ever so slightly at his words. Emma liked a bit of dirty talk in bed—it was a proven fact between them. But this? Not an imaginary scenario, but the truth—he had to try.
“The sun hit your hair, because you were holding your bonnet at your side. Everything about you was warm, heartbreakingly beautiful. Your smile when you greeted the baker’s wife stole my air, and I’ve wanted you ever since.”
