Page 26 of The Untamed Duke
How would she react if he turned and kissed her? Silencing a groan, Nicholas continued writing. "Oh? What is that?"
"What precisely are French letters? How do they work?"
His erection reared at her words. With a deep breath, he somehow finished the contract and signed it. Handing her the quill, he didn’t realize he held that breath until she scribbled her signature alongside his, her handwriting flowing and elegant.
He was a monster. He truly was. Her name on that document proved it. Taking her virginity in exchange for an estate meant there was a special prison cell in the depths of Hades, just for him, his name stamped in gold upon the door.
Folding the document, he sealed the wax with the Richeforte Duchy stamp. "Here. Keep it in your possession for peace of mind. I'll see to your room and that bath now..."
"Won’t you answer my question?" Grace followed, clutching the document as though it were a priceless treasure. She trotted on his heels as he exited the study. "Must you travel to France to obtain French letters? May I see them? How many shall we need?"
In a flash, Nicholas wheeled around, driving her against the paneled wall in the empty hallway. His body, hot and hard, pinned her in place, and a little yelp escaped her when he clutched her shoulders, fingers digging through the damp cloth of her blouse.
Her scent filled his nostrils, her flesh filling his hands. He wanted to kiss her until she moaned into his mouth. Retaining his composure was impossible when something foreign raged within him. It clawed its way up to get out. It was no use tamping it down when she was too close, too warm, too...everything.
"French letters." He breathed in unsteady gulps, Grace staring at him expectantly. "French letters are thin sheaths, condoms, in case you hear mention of such things elsewhere. They’re usually constructed of sheepskin, and a man—” Nicholas closed his eyes for a brief second, then snapped them open, evaluating her reaction. “A man places one over his erection before he enters a woman. Ribbons tie the sheath at the base of the man's sex, holding it in place during intercourse. When he climaxes, his seed is captured within, prevented from entering the woman's body. Reducing the possibility of pregnancy."
His words became a low growl of arousal as he imagined doing all he just described. Or even better, havingherplace the condom on him before he did things to her long ago outlawed by church and crown.
Grace was wide-eyed, no doubt conjuring images of how it all worked. He thought she would jerk away in horror, but she did the exact opposite, relaxing in his arms.
"Oh. How very clever!" The exclamation was breathy, her eyes alight with curiosity. "I’ve overheard other girls whispering, but I didn’t know what they spoke of. I thought it was some manner of stationery, something one could only purchase in France. How silly I am.” She giggled softly.
Other girls? Who? What other girls? Who would dare speak of such things around her? Damnit, I’ll have to find out…ban them from her orbit.
“D-do you have such things here? Will you use them every time we are together in that way? Do you put it on, or shall I? You will show me? I've also heard mention of sponges...are they the sort one bathes with?"
Nicholas groaned as another wave of intense lust swamped him.
He was powerless against it. He was going to kiss her. He would finally know what her mouth tasted like, what her essence consisted of. He would drink her, swallow every bit of her into himself because there was a piece of paper, currently crushed between their bodies, permitting him whatever he wanted. He could devour her, and she must let him.
"Bloody hell, Grace. I must kiss you..."
She gave him a quizzical look. "I never said you could not."
He bruised her lips with the force of his mouth, his tongue sliding down into the silken depths of hers to swirl and thrash. Plundering, taking, exploring, as if he were some type of wild beast and she his first kill. He could not get enough. His hands gripped her shoulders, preventing her from slipping away while his lower body pinned her against the wall, the heavy heat of him grinding into her. He wanted her aware of his arousal, aware of her effect on him. The first of their five nights was tonight; she'd better goddamn accustom herself to the idea.
Whatever strange emotions warred within him, the whispering warnings he could not possibly do this to an innocent girl were silenced by desire shouting a triumphant war cry in his head.
“God. You taste incredible," he groaned. "Like...like..." Grace tasted like nothing he’d ever had before. She was undefinable.
"Like what?" She whimpered when he bit her lower lip then sucked it. He rumbled, wanting more of her sweetness, wanting to dissolve into her bloodstream like a drug.
“Tell me,” she whispered when he tore his mouth away and ran opened-mouth kisses down the slim column of her neck.
She was gripping his shirt, so he took her hands in one of his and raised them high above her head, trapping them to the wall and leaving her immobile. The dominant streak inside him sighed with relief as she squirmed a bit, then settled into his grasp.
Like heaven and freedom...warmth...innocence,his brain screamed in response.Like laughter. Sunshine and lemonade, summer and light. You taste like...joy. All this, I no longer possess…
Nicholas could not say such things aloud; that would give too much insight into his frozen soul. Instead, he clenched shut against the burning flame flaring to life inside him. That flame had no business anywhere near him; it was dangerous acknowledging its existence. He was dead inside. Nothing but icicles where a heart should beat.
"Like sin and honey," he muttered instead, because that was the truth, too.
Grace blushed, head tilting back, offering her mouth again, an invitation to kiss her even harder. His hand tangled in her damp hair, cupping the side of her face. Her hips rocked with an almost involuntarily movement against him, driving him crazy with desire. With want. With the need to be inside her, regardless who might come across them as they succumbed to reckless lust in the darkened hallway.
Her eyes were shining gold with excitement when he stopped, her mouth red from the roughness of his, her skin flushed.Like warm cream,Nicholas mused, running a knuckle over her jaw. If he kissed her forever, a hundred million times in a hundred different ways, it would never be the same experience twice. Grace did not know it, but she held absolute power. Could easily capture him, enslave him. Turn him blind to the wickedness a woman might accomplish with a flutter of long eyelashes or an upward curve of a sweet lip.
"I'll show you to your room now."
