Page 72 of The Duke of Fire
Amelia was a good student. He had always known that, but he did not know the full extent of it until he was at the receiving end. She sucked him as if he were the tastiest sweet from the best London confectionery shop. Her moans made him grip the edgeof the chaise.
Control. He loved possessing it. But with her, he was glad to relinquish some.
“Amelia,” he warned. “I… if you do not stop right now…”
The disobedient lady did not stop. He felt his pleasure building and building. He thought that she would have left him on the edge, but she was relentless. All thoughts ceased, and his vision blurred when he shattered, spilling into her mouth with a loud groan. He had never had this intense a release before.
For a moment, he basked in it. But he had to open his eyes. He had to thank the little angel kneeling between his legs. She looked up at him with swollen, glistening lips. He pulled her up and onto his lap.
“Stay,” he whispered against her hair. “Stay with me tonight.”
Amelia gave the faintest nod, her eyes already drifting closed. The weight of the night had settled into her limbs. She was worn down to the bone, not just by what had happened, but by everything she had carried long before she ever knocked on his door.
Sebastian lifted her gently, effortlessly, as if she were made of silk and smoke. Cradling her close, he carried her to his bed, the hush of the manor wrapping around them like a conspirator. Only one maid caught sight of them—wide-eyed and silent—but she said nothing.
He laid Amelia down with care, brushing a loose curl from her cheek. Her lashes fluttered, but she did not wake. Sebastian stood over her for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall, listening to the soft, trusting rhythm of her breath.
It was not his custom. He did not sleep beside women. They came, they pleased, they left—or were helped into the carriage before morning.
Butthis—this was different.
This will ruin me.And I will gladly let it happen.
Chapter 27
“Amelia, wake up.”
Sebastian’s voice was low, almost reluctant. Dawn had not fully broken yet, but the first threads of light were creeping through the curtains. She was still nestled against him, soft and warm, her breath feathering against his chest.
She stirred. Her lashes fluttered, and for a second, she looked lost—then safe. She burrowed deeper into the crook of his arm with a soft, muffled groan.
“Mm. I do not want to wake up. Not yet.”
He smiled, though the ache in his chest had nothing to do with joy. He did not want her to wake either. He wanted to keep her like this—close, quiet, untouched by the world beyond this bed.
But reality loomed outside these walls.
“It is almost dawn,” he murmured against her hair. “You need to go before anyone notices you are gone…”
Her eyes flew open then. Fear replaced sleepiness quickly, and soon both were scrambling to look halfway decent beforerunning for the carriage.
In the carriage, he gave himself time to look at her once more—to savor her. She was so beautiful, ethereal in the pale light of the early morning hours and still half-awake.
“How long was I asleep?” she finally asked, breaking the silence between them.
“It was long enough. You needed some rest,” he explained. “You were exhausted mentally and physically. But we do need to get you back before someone notices.”
Amelia nodded, though reluctance tugged at the corners of her expression. Fear flickered there for a moment, but she buried it beneath composure. He felt the same reluctance, the quiet desperation to keep her beside him just a little longer.
But he knew the truth. Letting go had to start now—before it became impossible. Since she told him that Finch had read his letter, he did not want to make things harder for her.
They got in his carriage in silence, several things left unspoken between them. Soon after, the horses slowed and trotted to a stop. The carriage door opened, exposing both of them to more of the chill from outside. A different kind of chill also descended upon them.
“Stay close,” Sebastian murmured. “We will slip you in unnoticed.”
But the moment they stepped out, the illusion shattered. A male figure stood by the drive, illuminated by a lantern. He was not pacing or fidgeting. He was waiting. There could be no mistaking his fury.
Amelia’s breath caught. “Finch.”
