Page 70 of The Duke of Fire
Amelia did not answer with words. She simply looked down and pulled the sleeve back over her arm, as if hiding it could undo it.
“Please do not go to him,” she whispered. “Do not make it worse.”
Sebastian’s hands clenched. Rage pulsed in his chest. He imagined storming Warton House, dragging Finch out into the street, and making him feelhelplessfor once in his life.
He laid hands on her. He bruised her.He touched what is mine.
“How much worse does it have to get?” he rasped. “No one has the right to do this to you.”
She reached for him, resting a hand on his chest. He knew it for what it was. She was trying to appease him.
“Please forget about him, Your Grace. I just want to stay with you tonight,” she said softly, her voice thick with unshed tears. “Please, do not ask me questions. Just… let me be here with you.”
He softened. He wished he were able to protect her better. He should have just kept her here. But both of them were prisoners of theton. He could not afford to drag Amelia’s name into scandal, with her reputation already in tatters, just because Finch could not accept his stepmother.
“You are safe here with me,” he whispered. With his thumb, he wiped away her tears. “I swear to you, Amelia. No one will hurt you again. They will have to go through me first.”
She looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Then kiss me.” Her lips trembled. He knew that she was trying to distract herself, but she had come to the right place. He would be willing to take away all her fears, even for a moment.
Yet, he hesitated.
He was taking more of her each time. Every touch, every kiss chipped away at something precious. And still, he could not stop. Hewould notstop—not when she looked at him like that, as though he were the only thing tethering her to solid ground.
Their lips met, soft at first. Gentle. Worshipful. Her fingers fisted his coat, pulling him closer, as if afraid he would vanish. He deepened the kiss, needing to show her everything he could not say—how much it tore him apart to see her hurt, how much he wanted her safe, wanted herhis.
There was no space between them. No air to breathe. She gasped as she tried to get some air, even as her body undulated against his. So close to him, he could feel her heart pounding hard, andhe could not tell if it was from desire, lingering fear, or both. But his body responded, anyway. With her, it was a constant struggle for his body not to react. His cock hardened. He groaned.
When they broke apart, both were breathless.
“Let me take care of you,” he murmured against her mouth. “Just for tonight. Let me help you forget.”
It was not the best of offers, at least not as good as the one that was on the tip of his tongue but was too stubborn to say.
Marry me. Stay by my side forever.
Yet, she nodded at him. Wide-eyed, trusting, and beautiful, she would be everyone’s forbidden dream.
But tonight? She was his alone.
He led her to the chaise lounge. She giggled nervously when he threw down the cushions on the rug to make room for her.
“Sit down,” he said, his voice hoarse.
He knew exactly what he wanted to do to her—this delicious little feast. His cock was rock hard. He told himself it was because he had not bedded any woman in weeks. But this was not about release. Not truly. This was abouther.
“H-here?” she asked, sitting in the middle of the chaise, still looking far too prim and proper for what he planned.
“Yes,” he growled, his voice roughened by restraint, as he dropped to his knees before her.
She trembled when he lifted the hem of her wrinkled gown. He had not even asked her what had happened to it. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted the gown, baring her inch by inch. He wasgoading himself as much as her. When the soft cotton slipped up past her knees, he groaned at the sight of her stockings—those delicate, silken things clinging to her thighs like sin. He traced the path up to the garter with the backs of his fingers, savoring the way her breath hitched. Then, with steady hands, he unfastened it and slid it down, along with her shoes, letting them fall to the floor with a soft thud.
“W-what are you trying to do?” she asked shakily.
“Shh, Amelia,” he hushed her as he kissed her inner thigh while spreading her legs apart. “Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”
She bit her lip, trying to quiet herself and her fears. Then, he dove under, kissing his way up. He did it slowly so that he could savor how she trembled with every kiss.
Finally, he reached that wet, hot, needy spot between her thighs. He paused, only to breathe her in. Even the scent of her arousal made him harder. She was his. His alone. The possessive, selfish part of him had somehow been awakened. He darted his tongue and parted her folds with it.
