Page 88 of The Untamed Duke
Before he could stop it, Nicholas was spiraling down into her heat as Grace tightened her embrace around him. She accepted the frenzy of his possession as though he 'd always been hers, holding tight when white-hot satisfaction rolled over him in huge waves. During the torrent of conquest, her legs came up, wrapping about his waist. Her limbs trembled, her body arching as she peaked with him, crying out against his shoulder as the world faded away for them both.
Chapter 35
Grace watched shafts of sunlight move inch by inch across the floor, shadows chasing them as the afternoon drew closer to twilight.
She lay enfolded in Nicholas’s arms, her head resting on his chest. A lock of her hair was twisted between his fingers as he idly twirled its length. They did not speak, but it was an easy silence, soft and replete, with no lingering twinges of shame or regret. Grace couldn't bring herself to feel either emotion and she swore she would not. Indeed, even earlier when Nicholas fetched a towel and warm water from his bathing room, washing her blood and his seed from her thighs, she was not embarrassed.
He’d whispered apologies for the roughness of his lovemaking, murmured how entrancing he found her, how well she pleased him. How brave and beautiful she was. How he adored her, her body. Her softness and the sweetness of her mouth and skin. With surprising complacency, Grace allowed him to do as he wished, her heart nearly bursting with love upon hearing his every word, trembling when his fingers gently coasted over the faint bruises he’d left on her skin.
But he’d not said he loved her.
I am too greedy. Has he not given me everything else? My estate? My horses? For God’s sake, even his own horse? He did not demand, nor trick me into sleeping with him. He tried turning me away and I would not let him. This is all he can give me of himself. These superficial things, and his body in bed. It must be enough. It has to be enough.
She pressed a kiss to the space above his heart, and he issued a low chuckle.
“What was that for?”
“Nothing in particular. Just a thank you, I suppose.”
She snuggled closer, breathing deep, the light fleece of his chest hair tickling her nose. He smelled so…. manly. Mint and sandalwood and sex. Did his other women love it too? Did he allow them the opportunity of being with him like this? Or were they immediately dismissed? She pondered her role in being a mistress and how much leeway Nicholas would give as she learned what he expected of her. She did not want him to send her away now that she’d given him all of herself.
“I’ve a hundred different ways you may show your gratitude.”
“Is that so?” Grace grinned, tilting her head to look at him, pushing thoughts of leaving aside.
“You’ll soon discover I am insatiable when it comes to you.” He ruffled the fringe of hair on her forehead, pausing to trace the tiny, half-moon scar at the edge of her eyebrow. “You’ve never told me how you came to have this.”
“You’ve never asked,” Grace teased before sobering. “Llyr gave me that little memento. About a year after he came to us. I thought I was doing a fine job, gaining his trust. One day, I was working on lifting his feet for grooming and he swung his head at me.” She laughed softly. “Knocked me completely over and into a bench, of which the corner sliced my eyebrow open. Hurt like the devil and looked much worse than it actually was. But do you know what I did? I took a bit of the blood and rubbed it in his muzzle. For hours, it was all he could smell. Me. He never so much as attempted hurting me again.” The thought occurred perhaps she’d done the same with Nicholas...imprinted herself on him using the proof of her virginity so he would not harm her in the future.
“And this?” His forefinger traced her nose and the slight bump that marred its fine, straight line.
She grinned. “A tumble from a pile of stones at the Abbey ruins. I was attempting a leap onto Llyr’s back as he galloped past. I missed, well, I hit his rump at least and broke my nose. Mother was most upset. Said I’d forever ruined my profile for portraiture. But I didn’t care. I tried it again and again until Llyr and I had the timing down perfectly.”
“It suits you perfectly. And your profile is beautiful, regardless. All of you is so damned beautiful.” Nicholas squeezed her tight. “Llyr was a fine animal, Grace. I know it will be difficult replacing him.”
She sighed. “He was very special. I will always love him. And miss him.”
“Please consider taking Skye. I want you to have him. Truly. Not for any reason other than because I want to give him to you.”
“I cannot do that, Nicholas. He’s too valuable, and I cannot allow you to pay for the rebuilding of my stables either.”
For a flash of a second, his face hardened. “There is no discussion on that. I’ve made arrangements and it is done. The matter of Skye can be negotiated, but your stables will be rebuilt at my expense.”
“It will create a terrible scandal. People will talk about what is between us if you do such a thing.” Grace frowned.
“Once, you said you did not care about your reputation as long as you had Bellmar and your horses. It was all you wanted in this world, and nothing else. Have you changed your mind, then?”
Grace rested her face back against his chest so he could not see her eyes and the tears that sprang so easily. Of course, she wanted more now. She wanted him. His heart. His love. His life shared with hers. “I want the parts of you that you won’t give, Nicholas. That’s all I want. It’s all that matters now.”
He stroked her hair, and Grace closed her eyes at his silence, her heart twisting painfully. He gave her no answer, and she really did not expect one.
* * *
They fell asleep wrappedin one another’s arms, and when they awoke a short time later, Nicholas rang for a light supper. It was delivered by a stoic-faced servant, who set the meal up without a word and disappeared just as silently with a quiet “thank-you” from Nicholas.
“Are all your servants so grim in nature?” Grace asked as they sat before the fire and feasted on roasted capon and creamed potatoes.
“Many of them are, I’m afraid,” Nicholas admitted. He poured more wine into her glass. “Most are holdovers from when my father was alive. This wasn’t the most pleasant of households, as you can imagine.”
