Page 62 of A Duke Makes a Deal
But she wouldn’t give up. She would simply have to love him more than he had ever been loved before, to show him just how much he was worth it.
“Silas?” she asked, leaning towards him. “Will you kiss me?”
“Did you hear me?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I can’t love you.”
Clara ignored the frigid ache in her heart at his words.
“I’m not asking you to love me, Silas. I’m asking you to kiss me.”
Silas’s brow was creased as he glared at her.
“Damn it,” he muttered as he crushed his mouth to hers.
Chapter Fifteen
What is wrongwith this woman?Silas wondered angrily as he kissed her. She wasn’t listening to him. Why did she refuse to accept that he was unable to provide her anything more than friendship? He had no heart to offer anymore. Not after the way it had been crushed to dust, pulverized by a woman who had never genuinely cared for him. And yet, in this moment, as Clara pressed her body against his in earnest, he couldn’t for the life of him remember the shape of Cynthia’s mouth, or even the exact color of her eyes.
Features that had once held such power over him had become fuzzy. It was increasingly difficult to recall every aspect of her face, especially since his wedding to Clara had taken place. It had been his own fault, he supposed. He hadn’t had the time to wallow in his own misery anymore the way he had before he’d begun to share a bed with Clara.
His hands dropped her hips, wide and full beneath his strong grip. God save him from her curves. At night, after she’d fallen asleep curled onto her side, Silas’s eye would roam over her sleeping form, a landscape of rolling hills and valleys bared for his touch. She would make the strangest sound when he touched her as she slept—a content, purring noise that always made him equal parts hard and envious. That she should be so responsive to his touch, even in sleep, undid him. That she could find such peace and pleasure bothered him.
An unfounded anger surged through him as he kissed her, pressing her body fully against the rough rock wall that encircled the garden. His hands found her wrists and pulled them up over her head as his tongue moved against hers, savoring the taste of her mouth. This was all he could give her—but he intended to give her so much that it overwhelmed her.
He crushed his body against hers, enjoying the gasp that dropped from her lips as she felt his length press against her. He could give her all the physical enjoyment her body could handle.
“This,” he spoke, tearing his mouth from hers and leaning against her ear. “This has to be enough, Clara.”
To his annoyance, she defiantly shook her head.
“No, Silas,” she whispered back. “I want more.”
“There is no more.”
“There is,” she said as she pressed her lips against his neck, making him shake with desire. “I want it all. I want all of you.”
He silenced her again with his mouth, both furious and unrepentantly aroused by her persistence. She would have all of him, he thought savagely as he gathered her wrists against his palm. His other hand moved down her body, gripping her soft breasts beneath the see-through fabric of her chemise. Never in his life had he held such perfection. It made him want to worship her…but this wasn’t meant to be a gentle coupling. Not when he had something to prove.
His hand moved down to the front of his breeches and with a quickness that seemed to surprise Clara, he released himself while he gathered her skirts up. Her eyes were on him, he could feel it as he bent his knees. Bringing both hands down to the bottom of her thighs he lifted her and in a swift, singular motion, pushed up into her.
Clara gasped, her eyes fluttering closed as her arms fell to his shoulders, holding onto his neck. Silas had to fight off the very real wave of emotions he felt in the moment. Awe at the beautyof her flushed cheeks, strands of wet hair plastered against her skin, her face the epitome of pleasure. Fear over the way she caused the broken parts inside of him to vibrate. Triumph at the knowledge that she was his completely.
No. He moved against her, roughly. He had believed Cynthia was wholly his once and she had destroyed him. Never again would he allow himself to trust a woman.
But damned if Clara didn’t make him want to try.
She began to make the same soft, purr-like noise she made in her sleep, and the sound of it enraptured Silas. The wet warmth of her wrapped around him contracted and while he was moving with a definitive rhythm, he felt his control slip.
“Silas.”
Her voice was filled with pleasure, her eyes remained closed as he moved. He pumped into her with increasingly harder strokes as he kissed the breath out of her mouth.
Her desire was his to master and yet at the same time, he felt entirely under her power. He would do anything, give anything to bring her to ecstasy. He was both her reverent servant and her dominant protector. The conflicting feelings flooded him, muddling his mind. If he thought too hard about what she actually meant to him he wouldn’t be able to live with her anymore. He pushed those ideas from his mind. He had no intention of losing her.
“Silas, please,” she begged softly as he pumped into her. “Deeper.”
Silas nearly spent himself then and there at her request. His hands moved further back around her buttocks. Holding her in what he was sure was a painful grip, he pulled her fast and hard against him. Clara let out a broken sort of cry as she writhed against him. Silas couldn’t stand it any longer and he slammed into her one last time before he exploded within her.
Operating on nothing more than base instinct, Silas bent his head to her shoulder, his teeth biting down on her smooth skin as he shook in the aftermath. Only after several moments did he notice the damage he had done—not just to her shoulder, but to her back where it had scraped against the rough-cut stones of the garden wall. With a bitter curse, he pulled himself from her and her legs dropped to the ground as his hands came up her back.
