Page 109 of An Unwanted Widow for the Duke
“Yes. That’s exactly what you need to do,” she breathed.
“Then I will never stop fighting for you, Mina,” he promised, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers.
Wilhelmina almost burst at the seams with joy. She believed him. Yes, she did.
He kissed her again, but this time, it was rougher. It was no longer an apology, but a promise. Hunger pulsed in her lower belly as her fingers tangled in his hair.
It was the kind of kiss that made one forget.
Gerard’s movements were purposeful, yet she felt the restraint in every step as he guided her backward, never breaking from the kiss until her knees brushed against the edge of her bed.
Then, he tore his lips from hers.
She gasped, the sudden distance like a cruel deprivation, but when her eyes found his, the protest caught in her throat.
His gaze was dark, heavy-lidded, dazed with desire. He looked almost undone, as if she alone held him together. He wanted her—no, needed her—and the realization set fire to her veins.
“May I?” His voice was rough, frayed at the edges, his fingers already catching at the fabric of her gown.
“Y–Yes,” she whispered, though the word felt like surrender, like leaping from a height with no promise of landing.
What followed was a flurry of fumbling and trembling hands. His fingers shook as they worked at her dress, and her own clumsy efforts betrayed the racing of her heart. Buttons slipped, ribbons tangled, but neither of them could stop, nor did they wish to. Their kisses grew more desperate, more frantic, as though they feared what might happen if they slowed.
It was not elegance but hunger that ruled them now. He tugged at her gown until it fell away, and she tore at his coat, the sound of cloth and breath filling the room like a storm. Gone was the careful courtesy he had shown her before; gone was her own attempt at composure. They were stripped of pretense as surely as they were stripped of clothing.
At last, she stood in her chemise, and he, bare-chested, the lamplight catching on the planes of his chest and shoulders. She could scarcely breathe, but for once she did not mind. For once, she did not want to breathe—she only wanted him.
“You look beautiful, Mina,” Gerard whispered, his lips curling into a wide, genuine smile.
It broke her, seeing him brightening like that.
She could feel his eyes trailing down her body, leaving heat in their wake. The fabric did nothing to hide her curves. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he drank her in, as if he was seeing her for the first time.
“Truly beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes turning misty.
Even as desire took her, Wilhelmina could not help but feel what he was feeling. A sob escaped her lips as she placed her palms on his naked torso. Gerard was sculpted, with hard muscles ridging his chest and abdomen. A few silvery scars crisscrossed his biceps.
Wilhelmina used her fingers to trace them. She wanted all of him, not just his present and future. She wanted to know more about his past. While she might not be able to change it, she could at least understand him better.
“You don’t want to know my past, Mina,” he rasped, shivering at the tenderness of her touch.
“Tell me what you’re ready to share, Gerard,” she coaxed. “I am your wife. We have no secrets between us. Not anymore. But I respect you enough to wait till you are ready. I’m here. I will be waiting forever.”
He groaned, a deeply male sound that made her shiver all over. He pressed his hard body against her softer one. She had missed this. She had missed him.
Gerard gently lay her down on the bed and eased himself between her legs. She could feel the hard evidence of his arousal. It pressed against her stomach, making heat pool between her legs.
He lowered himself so that his erection pulsed against her core, even through the fabric of their clothes. He rocked his hips against hers, her chemise and his trousers serving as a barrier. She let out a moan. He ground his hips against hers a few more times, and she was close. So close.
They were not even naked, and he was not even inside her, but she was ready to fall apart.
Suddenly, laughter rang out from the stairwell.
It was a child’s voice. Hector.
They froze, reality crashing on them. Gerard groaned, partly in annoyance. Wilhelmina could only giggle nervously, as she could still feel his hard manhood against her.
She wanted more of this, but they had to think of the boy. Gerard rested his forehead on hers, and they tried to catch their breath.
