Page 31 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
As sleep finally claimed her, she hoped that tomorrow would bring clarity and a chance to understand the enigmatic man she had married.
Chapter Ten
“Thank you, Thompson. That will be all for tonight,” Kenneth dismissed his valet, who had been assisting him with his evening preparations.
He returned from a long day of dealing with estate matters. A dispute between two of his tenant farmers had required his immediate attention and mediation, a matter that had unfortunately consumed his entire day.
It was not how he had planned to spend his first day on the estate with Beatrice.
“Very good, Your Grace,” Thompson replied with a bow before exiting the room.
Kenneth removed his boots and hesitated, looking at the door that connected his chamber to Beatrice’s. A part of him was driven by a raw desire to see her, to feel the magnetic pull that had been simmering between them since their first encounter.
With a deep breath, he stood up and, dressed in only his breeches with his shirt open, walked into her chamber.
Beatrice clambered quickly out of bed in alarm, clutching the covers to her chest. Her eyes were wide, and Kenneth could see the tension in her posture. She wore a simple nightgown that accentuated her figure in a way that made him gulp. He wanted her so badly but knew he needed to keep his desire in check.
“Duchess,” he began, his voice coming out rougher than intended, “since we are now married, it seems only fitting that we… consummate our union.”
He saw the flash of surprise in her eyes, and he softened his voice, allowing a hint of seduction to creep in.
“We should think about our future, about producing an heir for Dunford.” His eyes roamed over her form appreciatively, and he added, “Besides, I find myself quite drawn to you, more than I anticipated.”
“I am quite aware of my wifely duties, Duke,” Beatrice replied, her tone a bit acerbic.
Kenneth approached her, his eyes locked onto hers. “Do you really know anything about marital duties?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Beatrice met his gaze squarely. “I am not an innocent debutante anymore.”
Her words riled him up, frustration and desire coursing through him. “Since you are not an innocent debutante, I should warn you that you should not expect love in our marriage,” he added, his tone sharp as he stepped closer to her.
Beatrice rolled her eyes. “I do not dream of romance, Duke. Especially not with you.”
“Good,” Kenneth replied, feeling his temper rise.
“Then get it over with,” she said, her voice tinged with defiance.
She dropped the covers and closed her eyes, standing there like a sacrificial lamb which only exasperated him further.
“Get it over with? I do not just ‘get it over with’ when it comes to this. You’ll be writhing with pleasure, dear wife,” Kenneth growled at her, and her eyes flew open at the low hum of his voice. “This is not just about duty.”
He growled again and grabbed her, pulling her to him. He kissed her with a passion that surprised even himself, a fierce, consuming kiss that spoke of all the pent-up desire and frustration he felt.
Beatrice’s initial shock melted into the kiss, and she responded with equal fervor. The tension between them seemed to ignite, and the kiss deepened, becoming a powerful exchange of emotions. Kenneth’s hands roamed over her back, pulling hercloser, while her fingers threaded through his hair, holding him to her.
In one swift move, he lifted her and laid her on the bed, pinning her hands above her head.
“Open your eyes, Beatrice,” he commanded softly but firmly. “I want you to see me. I want you tofeelthis.”
Beatrice hesitated then slowly opened her eyes, meeting his intense gaze.
For a moment, they stared at each other, the air between them charged with unspoken emotions.
He bent his head down and trailed feather-light kisses down her collarbone to the swell of her breasts. Beatrice let out a moan and arched against him.
When his mouth met the fabric of her nightgown, he heaved a momentary sigh of frustration. She tried to pull him back to her, but he captured her lips and slid his hand up her waist and then to the top of her nightdress. He tugged at the laces until her breasts spilled out.
His tongue explored a taut nipple, his lips gliding over the softness of her skin, leaving her shivering with desire. He kissed up her collarbone until his lips found hers, eliciting a moan from her that sent a shiver down his spine. His lips then moved toher neck, and he trailed molten kisses down the column of her throat.
