Page 52 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
Madeleine let out a nervous laugh. “One of the maids taught me how to clean in such a way. John was notorious for getting into brawls when he was younger, and I often cleaned him up alongside the maids.”
“John, the fighter,” Alexander laughed. “Of course.”
“There was a time when I asked him if I could follow him to the battlefield as a nurse,” Madeleine laughed. “If I do not go, who will patch you up and clean the blood? I asked, and John just told me it was utterly unheard of, could not be done, and that there would be plenty of doctors to get the job done. He did not understand that I was frightened about him being hurt.”
Alexander opened his eyes, and she forgot herself for a moment, meeting them. She let the towel slide down his stomach, clutched in her fingers. She was keenly aware of how close to the waistband of his breeches she was.
The Duke leveled her with that cool stare. His breaths were shallower, as though something brewed beneath him that he was trying to keep at bay.
A rush of heat flooded her, and she succumbed to it, letting it guide her closer to him. With her bed only a few feet away, how could she turn away from that rush?
Alexander’s gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips, and then he was there, kissing her, pulling her against his bare chest.
Her hands fisted against his skin, and neither of them cared that the towel between them dampened their clothes. All she cared about was how he was unraveling her slowly, languidly, with his mouth.
His kisses were careful, practiced. Precise. His lips eased hers apart but she found that a hunger gnawed through her, and she had denied it over and over.
Not now; not tonight.
Madeleine gasped when Alexander yanked her closer, and she felt the heave of his chest against her own. He took advantage of her parted lips and slipped his tongue into her mouth, sliding it along hers. Madeleine jolted at the sensation, moaning quietly.
Alexander made a small growl in his throat, and cupped her face, angling her head upwards to him, deepening the kiss. Sliding his hands into her hair, he tugged, and she felt her head move with the pull, a spike of heat spearing her.
Yes, she thought.Claim me. I am already yours—I wish to feel it.
“You are akin to the richest wine,” Alexander told her, his mouth barely moving from hers. He slipped his hands down to her hips, bringing them flush against his. “You may prefer a lighter wine but I will have nothing less than the boldest, the finest. And that, Madeleine, isyou.”
Her words left her, but any response she may have mustered was kissed away by him in the next moment.
She closed her eyes, feeling his hands roam. His fingers bunched her dress, tugging it up and up, exposing more of her.
Heavens above, she was tumbling—if he was the storm then she would fly through it endlessly. Heat surged through her, drowning her.
I will have nothing less than the boldest, finest.
Bold. She wished to be bolder. Madeleine wrenched the towel from between them, exposing the arousal building in her husband’s breeches.
She danced her fingers along his waistband, and he stuttered on a groan.
Lower and lower, her hand grew closer to dropping between his legs, as one of his own slipped beneath the skirt of her dress, trailing higher. The place between her legs was aflame, her core aching. Her whole body tensed, waiting for that first brush of his hand.
Outside her room, a crash sounded, the sound of a glass breaking, and a quick apology sounded right after. Alexander growled and went to move to see what had happened but Madeleine pushed him back.
“You are injured,” she said sternly. “I will see to it.”
The sound broke their spell, and Madeleine snapped back into reality, stepping back. She withdrew her hand, almost wide-eyed at how close she got to brushing over his blatant arousal with her hand.
Alexander’s expression flickered before he removed his hand from beneath her skirt.
Did she imagine his disappointed sigh before he nodded, letting her go for a moment?
Madeleine tugged the towel between her hands, folding it before placing it over the basin, needing something to do with her hands. She cleared her throat and left her room for a moment, spotting a maid crouched on the floor with a brush.
“What happened?” she asked, startling the maid.
The girl turned to her. “I am sorry, Your Grace. One of the newer maids dropped a glass while she was clearing His Grace’s chambers.”
Madeleine paused, nodding. “Of course.”
