Page 9 of His Grace, the Duke
“Let them see,” he panted. “Let them hear us. I hope they’re right outside the goddamn door. I want them to hear you cry out my name.” His left hand snaked around, cupping her sex, opening her with his fingers. At the first touch, they both groaned, aching with that perfect moment of connection.
She pushed her hips against his hand, desperate for more friction. “Ohgod—”
His breath was hot in her ear as his right hand came between her legs from behind, two fingers sinking deep inside her.
She gasped, knees almost buckling. This was an entirely new sensation. Both his strong hands pleasured her at once. She bit back a cry as his wet mouth pressed kisses to her neck.
“You’re going to come for me. Now. Hard and fast. Beg me for it.”
“Burke,” she whimpered.
“Not good enough.” He nearly lifted her off her toes with the force of his fingers burying themselves inside her. “You make me desperate, Rosalie. I’m mad for you. You’remine.”
Rosalie sighed with longing, opening her legs wider.
“You think I had a choice? They forced me to hurt you with that display in the ballroom. I couldn’t warn you—couldn’t get to you in time.”
Rosalie was ready to tip over the edge. She pressed her forehead into the curve of her arm, eyes shut tight as she rode both his hands. “Burke, please...”
“You’re so beautiful when you beg. But I’m not ready to end your suffering. I’ve been dying a slow death for hours, desperate to be near you, to hold you in my arms.” He teased her with tongue and teeth on that soft spot behind her ear. “I searched for you the moment the waltz ended, and what did I find?”
“Burke—”
“You and Jamesmissing. Gone like a puff of smoke. No word. No note. You ripped the air from my chest. You left me on my knees, aching for you.”
His fingers circled back up to her sensitive bud. She sighed as he found it, giving it the lightest touch that made her toes curl.
“Then I had to come here and find you being measured for your fucking trousseau. I could kill him for it,” he growled. “You’re mad? I’m livid. I see only red. I see onlyyou. God, you own me. I can’t breathe. Can’t think—”
His words were barely registering. Rosalie was too lost in the pleasure he gave her. She needed this release like she needed air. “Burke, please,” she whimpered. “Finish me—”
Burke pinched her bud and she shattered. It wasn’t the slow, cresting waves of euphoria she rode with him last night. This was a desperate kind of release that clawed its way out of her. It was like breaking the surface after nearly drowning in deep water.
She sagged against the bookshelves, legs shaking. Her breath was ragged as he pulled his hands away, leaving her empty and wanting more. The skirts of her new dress fluttered down around her legs as he stepped back. She turned to face him, still leaning against the shelves. “I’m sorry we took off like that. It was selfish. But it wasn’t about you.”
His eyes shot up and he scowled at her.
“Well... it wasn’tentirelyabout you,” she admitted. “From my first night at Alcott, everything changed, and I just... I needed perspective and I couldn’t get it there. I was lost in the dark. I couldn’t see my own hand before my eyes. And James—”
“Was more than willing to offer you a new perspective. Yes, I’m aware.”
Clearly, he was still angry. It was settling in his shoulders and swirling in his eyes. She gasped as some of his words finally registered. “Wait... what did you say about a trousseau?”
He glowered and turned away.
She put a hand on his shoulder. “Look at me.” His shoulderstiffened. “Oh, Burke... do you think I mean to marry James? Is that the new perspective you think I seek?” She put a hand on each of his shoulders. “Burke, look at me.” She waited until she had his eyes before saying, “I am not engaged to James. I told you last night what happened between us. He doesn’t want me in that way. If you don’t trust him at his word, trust me at mine: I am not now, nor will Ieverbe engaged to James Corbin.”
“I thought you ran off with him to elope,” he admitted. “Everyone did. We all—everyone said it. They were so sure. It was the only thing that made sense.” He dragged both hands through his black hair, looking anywhere but at her.
She reached for him again and he stiffened. “You’re shaking,” she whispered. “Oh... Burke...” She wrapped her arms around him.
He stiffened for a moment, but then he was clinging to her. He dropped his head to her shoulder, breathing her in as he pressed his face to the curve of her neck. “I thought you were eloping with him,” he said again. “Oh god, I thought—”
He thought he’d lost her. He thought she’d heard the news of his engagement last night and rushed off to London to marry his best friend to spite him. No doubt vicious gossips like Elizabeth and Blanche spun him up, painting a sordid picture of what must have happened between Rosalie and James—hours alone in a carriage, this house to themselves, then Burke arriving to find her being fitted for a new wardrobe that did indeed rival a trousseau.
She kissed his forehead. “I would never do that to you,” she murmured against his brow. “I would never hurt you in such a way. I am not half so spiteful that I would considertrapping myself in marriage as a suitable punishment for you being forced into a fake engagement.”
His head lifted off her shoulder. “It’s never going to happen.”
