Page 93 of Bound to the Heartless Duke
For the tenth time, she walked to the window, barefoot and impatient. Her fingers gripped the sill, her nose pressed to the glass pane as her eyes swept the grounds below. The river still shone like silver in the distance, and the trees rustled in the breeze, but he was nowhere in sight.
Her heart sank with sadness. He must have returned?—
Suddenly, she saw a figure. Tall. Dark. Poised.
Magnus.
She couldn’t stop her breath from catching as she watched him make his way across the garden path. She couldn’t hide her smile.
She noticed that he wasn’t wearing his coat, and his waistcoat was completely undone. His dark hair looked slightly windblown from where he’d stood by the river. Most importantly, there was something untamed about him, like a storm on the verge of breaking out.
As he walked, he didn’t look up. But she knew he was coming to her.
A thrill ran through her at the realization. Quickly, she turned from the window and rushed to the door. Her hands fumbled with the latch as she unlocked it. She didn’t open it, not wanting to seem too eager, and then quickly returned to the bed, where the silk coverlets had already been arranged just so.
Her robe remained loosely tied around her body. She sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her legs in a way that would give him a glimpse of her bare skin. Then, she rested her hands in her lap.
“Calm down, Lily,” she muttered to herself, clearing her throat.
She sat there for a few moments, and the silence stretched. And then, a knock sounded at the door. It was soft, barely audible, but it was all she needed.
It was all she had been waiting for.
She exhaled slowly, willing her voice not to tremble. “You may enter.”
Immediately, the door creaked open.
Magnus stepped inside like a man walking into temptation. He walked in slowly, almost warily, and the look in his eyes told of someone who knew this was a mistake even before it had happened.
He said nothing at first, just took her in.
“You’re late,” she said, her voice quiet but teasing. “I was beginning to think you’d lost interest.”
His jaw tightened. “I haven’t.”
His eyes were unreadable as usual, but she didn’t miss the way his breathing had quickened. She could hear it, could see the rise and fall of his chest beneath his shirt. She could feel him wrestling with himself.
The same man who had told her he would not touch her now stood only a few feet away, while she wore nothing but a silk robe and wicked intentions.
“I brought you here,” she murmured, “because there’s something I wanted to show you.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow, still not moving. “And what might that be, Duchess?”
She smiled faintly. “The consequences of your rules.”
He furrowed his brow slightly, confusion flickering across his face.
“I find myself in need,” she continued, slowly shifting her weight. “You’ve been… unbearably dutiful, and I’ve been terribly patient. But I am still a woman, you see. One with a body you loved to touch.”
Magnus inhaled sharply, but he still didn’t move.
“And now,” she said, her fingers brushing down her leg with deliberate slowness, “since you refuse to break your rules, I must find other means to… satisfy myself.”
Her words lingered in the air, thick and heavy.
Magnus’s pupils had dilated, and his nostrils flared slightly.
His gaze dropped slowly to follow the motion of her hand as it slid along her leg, darkening further when he realized her fingers were lifting the hem of her robe to reveal the curve of her thigh. Pale and smooth.Bare.
