Page 46 of The Untamed Duke
“Come here.”
At the husky roughness of his voice, Grace closed her eyes and squeezed her legs tight against a wave of sudden lust. “Your Grace—”
“I won’t ask twice.”
She stood from her chair as his scraped back on the hardwood floor. Taking one of her hands in his, he drew her into the small space between the table and his lap. With his legs stretched out, she found herself caged by his body, their fingers tangled together and his free hand resting lightly on her hip.
Nervous, Grace shifted her feet. Their position and the height of his chair meant his eyes were now level with her chest. The dowager duchess’s dress was a wee bit tiny in that particular area; Grace’s breasts strained prominently against the tight bodice.
For Heaven's sake. They might have found something with a bit more fabric to it! If he leans forward, his lips will touch bare skin and…
“Have you any idea what happens when I’m deliberately provoked?” Nicholas murmured, rubbing his hand in a sweeping motion down her hip and along the perimeter of her thigh.
She noticeably swallowed. “I don’t know, Your Grace. I wasn’t…”
His eyes drifted up, capturing hers. He was suddenly unapproachable. Cold and rigid, and Grace nearly shivered.
“I think you do know.” His lips thinned. “Or at least, you wish to. And how clever you are, thinking the use of my title will sway me from my purpose.”
“What is your purpose?” she asked cheekily, her breath ratcheting until it felt she was gulping for air.
There was no avoiding Nicholas’s gaze, the hot, silky darkness of it. When his free hand slid north from her hip until it brushed the bottom of one breast, Grace jerked back in surprise. Where their fingers tangled together, his tightened just enough so she was kept in place.
“Shall I show you, little bee? How unwise you are to sting me and expect to fly away? Nothing will give me greater pleasure than ripping your tiny wings off. One by one, until you lay helpless and trembling in my palm.”
His words sent a tendril of both fear and desire streaking through her veins.
“But it isn’t night, Your Grace.”
“Night?” His brow rose again. “Do you think I care the sun is up?”
“N-no.” Grace bit back a moan when his thumb flicked over a satin and lace encased nipple. It was like the flame of a candle whispering over her skin. “But it should matter—"
“It doesn’t.” His thumb never stopped rubbing, and she swayed with the motion, a mixture of desire and dismay flooding her senses. Damn the man. How easily he ensnared her in a web of lust. She’d do just about anything if it meant experiencing those sensations again. To have him do those magical, wonderous things to her body with his amazing hands and lips and his beautiful mouth. She stared at him as if in a trance, captivated by the darkening of his green eyes and the way his smile curved as if he knew her every thought.
“Besides,” Nicholas smiled. “This isn’t about our contract. Not really.”
“What is it about, Your Grace?”
“Consequences. Satisfying your curiosity. And mine, I suppose.”
“I don’t understand.” Her head tilted in confusion.
“You will.”
Nicholas abruptly tugged her closer, down across his lap, her bottom in the air. Grace was so startled she didn’t resist until it registered what he intended. Then it was too late.
“Your Grace, you mustn’t.” She gaped at him over her shoulder. “I’m begging you…”
His eyes pinned her. “Hearing you beg arouses the goddamn beast in me.”
Taking the braided rope of her hair, he pulled it away from her neck so that it tumbled over one of her shoulders.
One large hand pressed into the small of her back. “Place your hands on the floor, palms flat.”
Grace wiggled in horrified outrage. “You can’t mean to go about in this manner!”
“Of course I do. Perhaps you will find enjoyment in surrendering. As you did last evening. Shall we see if this is so?”
