Page 40 of The Untamed Duke
"Why not?"
"Goddamnit, I already explained why you should not be here."
Grace chewed her bottom lip then, then her decision made, scooted closer, slipping one arm around his narrow waist. She tucked her head beneath his chin, using his hard, wide chest as a pillow. Unsure where her legs should go, she kept them straight and just slightly away from his. Her breasts, however, lightly grazed the wiry hair on his pectoral muscles. In response, her nipples drew into tight, aching buds. Between their bodies, his shaft, hard, thick, heavy, swelled in massive proportions.
Nicholas sucked in a breath.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
His body heat was an addictive drug, and although the hostile snarl unnerved her, Grace snuggled closer. "You won't hold me, so I'm holding you, Your Grace. If anyone needs this, it's you. Please don't curse at me, not after all I allowed you tonight. Just...be still…let me have this."
Her arm tightened in anticipation of him pulling away, fingers splaying across his back.How odd. Are those welts crisscrossing there? The raised scars were numerous, each no bigger in diameter than say, a bow shaft. Or a riding crop. Before she could inquire of their nature, Nicholas found his voice.
"After all you allowed..." he hissed incredulously, body strumming with tension. A moment later, one golden arm snaked up, resting in the crook of her waist. He inhaled, slowly letting the breath out as if calming himself.
Grace almost sighed with relieved pleasure. This was no different from slipping a halter onto an untried colt— gentle persuasion and a firm hand usually did the trick. That and a bit of oats. A giggle rose in her throat at the notion of offering Nicholas a handful of feed as an enticement. Bourbon, or maybe a fine cigar, would prove better choices.
His heart thumped against her ear, a succession of beats quicker than normal. He still hadn’t completely relaxed, but bit by bit, the stiffness eased from his body, his heartbeat slowing into a steady cadence. Silence pooled between them, his warmth making her drowsy even as his erection nudged her bare stomach.
"Grace?"
She felt the reluctant smile in his voice as his lips moved against her temple.
"Yes?" she whispered.
"What if, ah...something comes up during the night?"
He sounded amused, a vast improvement over his typical, cynical coldness. Yawning, feeling safer than she should after that ear-blistering description of everything he could do with her, she edged closer, one knee hitching up against his. A second of hesitation passed, then his ankle slid between her legs in lazy response, tangling their lower limbs together.
"We'll address it, I suppose, although I'm not terribly worried.” For all the ice encasing him, Nicholas was warm and extremely comfortable. Quite surprising, really. Grace never expected finding such ease in his arms, not after the way their evening began. Already drifting asleep, she mumbled, "Besides, I'm sure you will think of something very clever."
Chapter 15
When Grace woke sometime later, the drapes covering the massive floor-to-ceiling windows were pulled open. The rain had subsided. It was now a steady downpour, with just a few low rumbles of thunder and distant flashes of lightning. Watching the rain while snuggled in bed was one of her favorite things in the world. She savored the cozy feeling, knowing a cold, miserable world waited out there while she was safe and warm, tucked inside.
She faced the bank of windows, Nicholas lying behind her, her position echoed by his. A muscled arm dipped heavily in the curve of her waist, his hand against the flat plane of her belly, iron-banded thighs pressed against the backs of her own. The coarse hair dusting his legs almost, but not quite, caused a tickle along her tired limbs. The swell of her buttocks grazed the lines of his lap. With her shoulder blades touching his chest, his shallow breathing stirred her hair and she knew he was awake.
"I love watching the rain," she admitted softly.
Nicholas was silent so long, she wondered if he might not answer.
With a small sigh, he surrendered. "Why?"
"You'll think me strange."
"Too late for that, I'm afraid." Humor laced his words.
Grace smiled. "Then I have nothing to lose. Nights like this, thunderstorms outside, me inside, remind me how fortunate I am. There’s a roof over my head. I'm warm and dry. I've food, clean clothes, my friends."
Nicholas’s arm tightened around her waist. He was silent for several moments, considering her statement, then said, "Such gratitude puzzles me. The roof you speak of? In danger of being forfeited. Your friends? The children of your guardians, necessary because your parents are deceased and you are alone in this world. As for being warm and dry, you lay in a scoundrel's bed, your virginity bargained against that dubious comfort. Oh, and let's not forget, your clothes are currently being laundered. At this moment, you technically have not a stitch to wear."
Grace’s shoulders shrugged away the sardonic cataloging. "You don't enjoy the rain?"
"No. I do not."
"Do you suppose you might grow to like it?" For some reason, it seemed important he say yes.
"I rather doubt it," he rumbled, lips brushing against her temple. "It occurs to me, should this god-awful weather continue, you will be unable to travel home. The roads will be far too dangerous."
