Page 53 of When her Duke Returns
“That’s not true.”
“It is… There is no way around it, now.”
“Because you fear what he will do.”
“Iknowwhat he will do. Ifearfor the future.” She felt her eyes well with tears as she recalled his threat. “I should not have come here. It was a mistake… He has known, Alexander. He has known all along what was happening between us, and he brought me here to test me. I failed...”
Alexander brought her into his arms, and she folded into him willingly. “It does not matter. Antony does not matter. What matters is how youfeel.”
Mary looked up then and searched the sky for the answer she sought. When none came but the rustling of leaves against the breeze, she stepped back to part from the Duke. Suddenly, her foot caught along the lip of the bath, her ankle twisting violently beneath her. With a cry, she tumbled back into the water, taking Alexander with her as she went.
The water consumed her with a heavy splash as her body succumbed to its chill. Her light gown wrapped around her ankles, and Alexander’s body collided with hers beneath the water, weightlessly. She sank down, seeking purchase against the floor of the bath then sprang back up with a press of her naked feet to the cemented bottom.
She took in a deep breath once she broke the surface of the pool, the water circling her shoulders in ripples. Her body came alive as if the shock of her fall had broken her from her reverie, and she looked upon Alexander in total understanding as if, somehow, she was seeing him for the first time.
“Are you—” he began but was cut off as Mary rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him into her embrace.
He was hot against the cold of the water, alive against the stillness of the air. As her mouth found his, her desperation and hunger lay waste to her better judgment as if his kiss was the only thing she needed to keep breathing.
Alexander did not draw back. Sighing eagerly against her mouth, his hands gripped tightly at the wet cloth of her waist. Her mouth found his slick, wet cheek then his throat then the unmarred skin of his chest, and she pulled at the soaked, white cloth of his shirt until it came away at the buttons.
“Don’t speak,” she ordered, fearful that any word of his would splinter the majesty of the moment. He simply nodded as she worked the buttons of his shirt, bringing his mouth to her ear to breathe against her skin. It drove her wild, a desire like never before blossoming beneath the depths of the pool.
She knew it was a bad idea—the mostterribleidea. But if she was to remit herself to a life of misery, she felt she deserved one last moment of youthful pleasure—one mistake to suck the venom from all the others.
The water hissed around them as she tore his shirt open. He drew her in fiercely close, so her body was flush with his. Her light gown was soaked through, her nipples hard against his chest. The water had unveiled her to him entirely, but she did not care. At that moment as the two of them stood in naked violence beneath the light of the moon, only one wish was upon her tongue.
“I must be yours,” she purred against his skin. “I must be yours before anyone else’s.”
He took a moment to look her over then kissed her again, biting at her lip in the same way he had before. She parted her mouth against his, unsure but pleading, and he slipped between her lips to stroke his tongue against her own. A hand came behind her head, tangling his fingers in the long, dark locks of her hair.
He pulled away for a moment, so they could breathe and then, kissed her again, softly this time in short bursts of warm affection. The Duke seemed to still, wondering whether or not to speak. Mary drew her finger to his mouth then removed the rest of his bandages silently. She lay them against the surface of the water and watched as they drifted away.
Even with all his scars, with everything that had come between them, Mary thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen, and she had never wanted anyone more.
He smiled in earnest then traveled his hands from her face to her chest, taking one of her breasts in his hand as his mouth connected with her neck. Mary thought she might scream at the sweetness of his kiss. It sent jolts of pleasure down her arms to her thighs and core, and a flock of forlorn moans slipped from her mouth.
He moved his hand from her bosom to clavicle to slide the straps of her chemise from her shoulders. They fell along her arms to the water’s surface. He trailed them further down—down her waist where it prickled, and her thighs where it burned—taking the fabric as he went, until there was nothing for her to do but step out of it.
She stood there in the rippling water, her head heavy against his skin, naked under his eyes and the veil of night and the blanket of trees. Somehow, she was unafraid.
With a willful sigh, she made for him again, pressing her body against his so they could resume their embrace. He grabbed her thighs and hoisted them around his waist as her core collided at last the stiffness in his trousers.
He edged her back against the side of the pool. The water parted for them, rushing over her desire and sending shivers down her spine. She moaned against his mouth as her back hit the gritty edge of the pool, her legs still wrapped around him.
He hushed against her lips and brought his forehead against hers. She drew a hand to his face and ran it along the deep scars that lined his cheek then over his eyelids and through his hair.
“I want you,” she whispered and let her hand fall to his breeches. He nodded solemnly, helping her liberate his hardness with a hand.
He sprung from his breeches and came to rest against her thigh. There was nothing between them now but water. He levied her up against the wall and pressed his member to her slit with a low, throaty rumble. Mary moaned in anticipation, her head tilting back against the lip of the pool to look at the stars.
He kept himself there as he settled a train of kisses along her chest, taking her nipple in his mouth as his thumb ran over her nub. Mary felt her core swell with desire then pull deeply inward. She had never felt so alive, after years of wondering and anticipation, and it took all her might not to scream her pleasure into the night.
She drew her head back up to kiss him and make clear her intent. His eyes were heavy with lust, his breath hot and quick. Wordlessly, he understood and brought his member to rest against her wet, wanting heat.
He parted his lips as if to speak, but Mary brought her fingers to his lips to keep them sealed. There was no need for talk, not between them, not now. There had been too much talking. His eyes held within them a thousand utterances…
You’re beautiful.
