Page 28 of The Duke of Fire
Amelia climbed into the water, surprised at its warmth. It was scented with rose oil, lavender, and something else. The chill and tension in her body tapered down, but she still held on to it for a while.
She immersed herself until rose petals and water covered her from the shoulders down. Even though her body was still rigid, she rested her head on the tiny silk pillow provided at the end of the tub.
I knew he was eccentric, but this is far weirder than I imagined.
Just when she was about to relax, the duke carried a chair and placed it next to the tub. There, to her mortification, he sat down and pulled some papers from a nearby table. Amelia thought that she could no longer be more ashamed, but she was wrong. She recognized those papers.Her translations.
Panic flared. “You brought those?”
“Well, are they not part of why you agreed to our arrangement?” he asked, casually flipping through the pages. “They are quite illuminating. Thus, I find them good company at night.”
“You read them every night?”
“Of course, I am a man of culture. Shall I remind you of your own words?”
His voice slid through the room like silk as he read. She knew they were her words, but with his deep voice, they became pureheat.
“She thought that the water would quench her desires… she was wrong,”he read in the language they were written, with feeling and purpose. She was surprised at his mastery of the language and the sensuality he brought into her words.
Amelia felt her body betray her. Her breath shallowed, her thighs pressed together beneath the water. She was burning. Melting. And all she could do was listen as Sebastian flayed her with her own imagination.
“Her fingers trailed toward that spot between her legs. She tentatively touched herself as he watched her, rubbing circles on that sensitive bud.”
Amelia stifled a groan as she realized why she was in the bathtub after all. It was that scene. He wanted to see it come alive. But damn it all, he had that rich and smooth voice that made each syllable trail forbidden touches on her skin.
“She slipped a finger inside herself, her gaze locked with his…”
A whimper nearly escaped. She bit her lip until it ached. She burned to touch herself like the woman was doing, but her pride stopped her. Humiliation made her school her features into indifference. Control. She was always a picture of control, and she would not let the duke change that.
But while her mind continued to struggle, her body betrayed her. It was in the way her breaths became faster and shallower. Or the way her thighs moved beneath the water, pressing tightly together.She tried her best to conceal the effect his words had on her.
However, his smirk showed he saw what was going on with her, and he continued to torture her.
“I will continue, but let me remind you that you wrote this,” he said firmly.
She did not comment on that. She wanted him to continue, but she would not tell him. Her lower belly tightened at that thought of her coming undone right there in front of him.
“She moved her hips up and down as she felt the first strong wave of pleasure. Her eyes squeezed shut. So, she was startled when she felt something pull at her hardened nipple. Squeezed. Bit. It was his mouth.”
Amelia was close to panting. Her thighs pressed harder together as she tried to clench around nothing—to reach her peak without him knowing. She wished she were in the privacy of her bed, with the ability to soothe the tension between her legs, but she was not.
“Fascinating,” he murmured. “Turn your head toward me.”
Then, as if he knew she was so close, he set the pages aside. Her body went rigid, remembering what she had written about what the hero did next.
“May I touch your hair?”
“M-my hair?”
“Yes, your hair.”
“You may,” she said softly.
The duke further surprised her by proceeding to sit behind her with a brush she did not even notice in his hand. He combed her hair with measured strokes, never once touching her skin. Theintimacy was more devastating than any caress.
“Why… why are you doing this? I thought—”
“You always care for everyone else,” he murmured. “When was the last time someone took care of you and asked how you wished to be touched?”
