Page 64 of The Duke of Fire
One of his hands slid under her skirts—slowly, carefully, always watching her face. Her lips parted, breath hitching as he found the soaked spot between her thighs. Then, he slipped a finger between her folds.
She clung to him, her face pressed into the crook of his neck as he worked her expertly with his fingers, drawing soft moans from her lips.
“Sebastian, I…”
Her body trembled as the heat inside her coiled tighter and tighter until it finally broke free. She gasped his name, shuddering as release overtook her, leaving her flushed and glowing.
Sebastian held her through it all, never letting go.
Later, Amelia left the room still shaken and breathless. She felt longing for him, wanting more of the hand that smacked her. Large, capable, and skilled hands. Yes, she wanted more of them all over her, especially with the reward that came after.
When she rejoined the crowd, she caught a glimpse of the dowager duchess watching her with knowing concern. She flushed with embarrassment. She knew she and Sebastian had been away from the ballroom for longer than was appropriate.
But nobody was questioning her absence. Everyone was preoccupied with their own concerns. Even Octavia seemed to have found some people to fawn over her.
Yet, she came back completely changed. She realized that she no longer wanted to leave London. Not while Sebastian was here. He was the only one who had made her feel so alive.
Sebastian only had a little of his self-control left when he stood up and asked Amelia to go back to the ballroom.
He had to do that.
He realized that he had gone too far. He pushed her and himself to a point of no return. If she were another woman, he would have already had his way with her. He would have been sated, but probably he would have ended up hating himself.
He weaved back into the ballroom, using the sounds as his beacon. Amelia made him disoriented. His mission was to arouse her, make her want him, but not give her any relief. The problem was that he ended up doing that to himself, and it was killing him.
The lights were harsh on his eyes as he went back to the world of the living, where a group of lords and ladies formed the quadrille set. People were laughing while the violins continued to play. He stood on the edge of the ballroom like a wolf stopped by a fence.
Sebastian found her again. It was like his eyes homed in on her each time. To the ordinary eye, she had always been there, looking as beautiful as she came. He knew better. She was more beautiful now, glowing but slightly more rumpled.
She was talking to Miss Serenity, nodding but looking distracted. Then, her eyes flashed to her half-brother, who was only a few feet away. His presence reminded Sebastian why Amelia was in a quandary at all.
Lord Warton’s chest was puffed out, thinking he was more important than he really was. A man who treated a sister the way he did was nothing more than a pest. His wife, right beside him, might be with child, but she was not what he would describe as glowing. Her eyes looked as vindictive as ever.
The wolf edged closer, daring to cross the boundary. He needed to see her. He needed to see how she was after he had given her pleasure.
But it looked like Amelia’s dance card was half-full. He wanted to pull it from her hand and crush it in his fist. But he remembered why they had to talk in private, at all. She did not want people to talk about her, much less talk about her in relation to him. For some reason, the thought made his chest clench.
A pink-cheeked gentleman, about her age, bowed gallantly in front of Amelia and claimed his dance. She politely joined him, graceful and elegant. She gave him a small smile, but it was too restrained. A few moments ago, Sebastian had her moaning and begging.Mine.
Still, jealousy reared its ugly head. His fingers curled, his nails digging into his palms. He had to face the fact that she might be looking for any way out, and it did not have to be him.
As for the pleasure? Of course, he knew she always had it in her. That desire. That passion. Even before she had met him, she already had something in her that was burning to be let out.
“If you want to start a duel, you can name me as your second,” Cassian murmured, suddenly materializing beside him.
“Why are you even here?” Sebastian asked, knowing that he was being unnecessarily rude to his friend.
“Oh, well. Let me join the two of you. Look around. Lady Ashcombe’s house is full of horrendous-looking but expensive porcelain. You might want to protect those to save your ears from the shrieking,” Benedict quipped.
“I am not going to do anything to the poor man,” Sebastian said through gritted teeth. The lord dancing with Amelia seemed like a nice man who made one mistake. One terrible mistake.
“Wonderful. I take it that you were able to talk to the exquisite Miss Warton?” Cassian asked.
Sebastian glared at him. He could not talk about Amelia like that.
“Yes, I have,” he said vaguely.
He did not know what had happened to him. In the past, he would tell his friends exactly what he did that made a particular woman moan. With Amelia, it was different. He would not share anything about her.
