Page 63 of A Rescue by the Rakish Duke
Husband and wife sat together in silence, watching the fire in the hearth. The crackling echoed their heartbreak.
Gwendoline let Damian sort through his feelings before she said anything.
Now, she could understand him better. He had lost so much. A void was left five years ago, just about when he became a notorious rake. She wondered if there was any space left for her in his hollow husk. She sighed softly.
Damian turned to her, his eyes red-rimmed and probing.
“Now, I understand you better, Damian. You’re not just a man on a quest for revenge,” she declared, keeping her voice steady. The moment was his. There would be a time for her to reexamine her feelings. “You lost people you love. Of course, you want justice for them.”
Damian’s eyes searched hers. What was it that he was looking for? Was he looking for some answers? For absolution?
She wouldn’t look away even though she was afraid he would see more into her than she was willing to share. She’d like to think that she made his defenses crumble.
“I don’t know if justice will be enough,” he admitted.
“It will be, Damian,” she insisted. “I want to help you seek it, you know that.”
For a long moment, the two simply stared into each other’s eyes, as if they were having a silent conversation. Gwendoline was startled when Damian stood up without warning and pulled her to her feet.
His hands moved from her arms to her cheeks, the touch so gentle but insistent that it could only be his.
“Gwendoline,” he murmured, his breath so close to her lips. So warm. It smelled of the liquor he usually sought comfort in. “You don’t know what you’re asking for by looking at me like that.”
“I do, Damian,” she whispered, even though her heart thumped in her chest. “I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
Gwendoline had never been kissed before she married Damian. She hadn’t known what to expect in the bedchamber. After he introduced her to the pleasures of lovemaking, she could not getenough. It didn’t matter what he felt about her—at least that was what she told herself. She’d take anything from him.
Their mouths crashed together. It was just like the other times but more. It always began with a searing kiss. Damian didn’t know how to start slowly. It was always passionate from the beginning, with all restraint thrown to the wind.
His lips were hungry and demanding as if he wanted to mold himself to her. Gwendoline responded just as eagerly, her fingers tangling in his hair. She wanted him just as close. Her skin tingled with his closeness. His touch. His kisses.
Damian almost lifted her off her feet. She was impressed. She wasn’t obscenely fat, but he made her feel like she didn’t weigh much.
One hand gripped her waist while the other tangled in her curls. The tendrils had already escaped their pins when they were still in Willowbrook. But this time the whole braid loosened, and she didn’t care. His tongue—taste—was addictive.
Gwendoline thought their kiss would never end and gasped loudly when he broke it. They were both panting, looking into each other’s eyes. The intensity of their connection left her trembling.
“This is dangerous, Gwen,” Damian warned hoarsely, but she wasn’t sure who he was warning. Her? Himself? Both? “If you stay with me right now, there’s no turning back. You cannot leave.”
“I don’t want to leave, Damian. I can’t,” she said, reaching up to trace his jawline with her fingertips. “I want you.”
Damian groaned. Then, he kissed her again. Gwendoline didn’t think it was possible, but this kiss was harder, more passionate, hungrier. Then, he stepped back, just to look at her. His eyes scanned her like a predator would their prey.
“These curves are mine. Understand, Duchess? Now undress, and show me what belongs to me alone.”
Gwendoline trembled, not with fear but with excitement. She gaped at him.
“Do not keep me waiting. I want to see every inch of you, every soft curve that belongs to me and me alone. Let me look at my treasure, my duchess, and remind you exactly who you were made for.”
Gwendoline bit her lower lip. She half-expected him to do the deed himself, but he wouldn’t touch her. Not yet.
“I said undress. Now. Or shall I do it myself and show you just how little patience I have when it comes to what is mine?”
This time, she complied. She slowly removed her robe, feeling the fabric slide down her skin.
Gwendoline shivered as soon as the cool air kissed her skin, but it didn’t take long for Damian to warm her again with his touch.He trailed kisses down her neck, his hot breath making her shiver for an entirely different reason. He moved lower, his teeth nipping her skin.
Each tiny, playful bite made her see stars. Each made her arch into him. She moaned when his large, calloused hands cupped her breasts, and her moans became louder when his thumbs brushed her pebbled nipples.
