Page 78 of The Duke of Fire
Her brows pulled together, hurt flickering through her glare. “Why would you do this?” she asked. “Why would you orchestrate my future like that and then disappear?”
Sebastian stood abruptly, wavering just slightly before grounding himself. “You wanted a future, Amelia. You wantedlove. A husband. Safety. That is what I gave you.”
Her flinch at the way he spat the word ‘love’ stabbed at him, but he could not take it back now.
“You do not get to decide what I want, Sebastian,” she snapped, voice tight. “If I were to marry, I would want it to beyou.”
“You should not,” he said through clenched teeth. “You should know better than that, Amelia. Such things could not be expected of me,” he gritted out. His head pounded, the spirits still taking control but barely now, with Amelia’s presence filling the room. “You said that you wanted to leave London, but I was trying togive you a chanceto stay.”
“But you never asked what Iwanted.”
They were close now. Almost too close. The heat of her anger mixed with the heat of his desperation. Sebastian’s hands twitched at his sides. Every part of him ached to touch her. Pull her in. Beg her to choose him and damn the consequences.
But what if she did? What then?
Amelia was not certain what was going on, but soon, Sebastian cupped the back of her neck and pulled her toward him. Their lips crashed, devouring, desperate. There was no tenderness this time, no restraint. His kiss was demanding, almost punishing in its urgency. Her fingers clutched his coat, pulling him closer as his tongue swept into her mouth, dominating. Her knees weakened beneath her, and she whimpered into his mouth.
“We should not,” he groaned, even as his hands moved with maddening confidence—one sliding to her waist, the other down to cup the curve of her backside. His body was hard, taut with desire, but his voice was laced with torment. “We cannot do this.”
“Please do not stop, Sebastian,” she begged then. She was trembling with desire, and perhaps something more. All she knew was that she needed him. “Claim me. Take me.”
He growled as he backed her toward the sofa, their lips never parting. Impatient but still controlled, he managed to pull her gown away swiftly after he loosened her laces. With her dress on the floor, Sebastian pulled away to look at her. Really looked at her. His breath hitched, and his face was a blend of pain and pleasure.She was not just desire. She was not just temptation. She was everything he was not supposed to want—and the only thing he truly did.
Mine,he thought, even though he knew better.
And still, he reached for her again. At the same time, Amelia reached out for him, fumbling with his waistcoat, desperate to see him the way he was seeing her. When she had successfully taken off his coat and shirt, she pressed her palms over the taut muscles of his chest. The contact made him shiver and lose his control so that he captured her lips once more.
While they kissed, they stripped the rest of their garments until they were completely naked. Skin to warm skin.
“You are so beautiful, Amelia,” he whispered, his breath warm on her neck.
Sebastian gently lowered her onto the chaise lounge, and as her back touched the cushions, memories of their last sharednight rushed over her in heated waves. His mouth found her skin again. Every brush of his lips pulled a new sound from her throat, every caress leaving her trembling.
When his mouth closed over her breast, sucking and laving the peak until it hardened, she cried out his name.
“Sebastian,” she gasped, her fingers threading into his hair to hold him there. “I need you. Please.”
She did not know what she was begging for—only that she wantedmore. Despite all her imagined stories and heated translations, nothing had prepared her for the reality ofhim. The Duke of Firaine was her first everything.
“Are you certain?” he asked, with desire thickening his voice.
“Yes. I am,” she breathed, even as her heart pounded, making her limbs weak. “I am ready.”
He groaned at that, as he gripped her hips and eased himself between her legs. Amelia held her breath, not knowing what to expect from then on. She felt him nudge her entrance, descending slowly and stretching her slowly until he was completely seated. She clung to him as pleasure and pain overwhelmed her.
“Are you all right?” he whispered against her cheek, sweat-slicked and shaking with the effort to hold still.
Amelia nodded, her eyes fluttering shut as sensation began to shift. Then, slowly, he began to move.
Each thrust was deep and measured, pulling gasps from her lips. Her body adjusted to his length, learned his rhythm—then responded in kind. She met him, thrust for thrust, the pain giving way to waves of heat. Her breath came in soft moans, hernails biting into his back.
Then, his voice cut through the haze.
“Amelia.Look at me.”
Her eyes flew open, locking onto his. What she saw there—possession, wonder, need—undid her. She wanted to tell him. Wanted to say it so badly it nearly choked her.
I love you.
