Page 43 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
“You are soaked, Duchess,” he purred as he rubbed her slit over and over.
Her head fell back when he slid a finger inside her.
In and out.
In and out.
Damian felt as if he would burst at any moment, but tonight was about her. He slid another finger inside her, and she gasped into his mouth. He bit her lip as a response, and she moaned his name.
“Do you like that, Duchess?” he panted.
“Yes. It feels so good, Your Grace,” she moaned as he continued stroking her.
His large fingers slid in and out of her tight channel. She was hot and wet and all his.
“Let me pull this down,” he murmured, lifting his other hand to her neckline.
In one swift motion, one round breast spilled out, making his mouth water. He took it in his warm mouth, suckling eagerly. He loved the feel of her stiff nipple against his tongue. He rolled it. Lapped at it. All the while, he didn’t stop pumping his fingers inside her.
Then, she screamed.
A small voice in the back of his head warned him of the line he was crossing and the promises he was breaking. With a groan, he tore himself away from her.
It was torture. It was madness. He couldn’t think straight.
He breathed hard as he rested his forehead against hers.
“I can’t,” he rasped. “Not like this.”
Gwendoline loosened her grip on his shirt, her hands falling limply to her sides. This time, there was no mistaking the tears shimmering in her eyes.
“Why?” she asked, her voice breaking.
Damian stepped back, running a hand through his hair. “Because you deserve better. Because I won’t and can’t take advantage of you in a moment of anger and frustration.”
Her expression hardened. “Am I only that to you? Someone to kiss during such moments of anger and frustration?”
“No,” Damian said quickly. “I feel everything, Gwendoline. That’s the problem.”
Without another word, he left her in the drawing room.
He knew that he had done it to her too many times—leaving her hanging. Leaving her wondering. Leaving her lost.
Right now, he couldn’t be there for her. Not in the way she wanted. Not even in the wayhewanted.
Chapter Thirteen
“We’ll have to tread carefully,” Evan muttered. “Something about the whole thing feels too convenient.”
The sun had not fully risen when Damian and Evan set out for their potentially dangerous journey.
The air was crisp the way Damian wanted it. It spurred him into action. Damp earth. Fading autumn leaves. Everything seemed set up for what was about to come.
Damian tightened his hold on his horse’s reins. Determination rolled off him. Anyone looking at him right now would know that he was not someone to be trifled with. Not at this moment. Not ever.
He didn’t like the risks involved in gathering more solid proof of Montrose’s schemes, but he could not leave the matter unresolved.
Justice.
