Page 99 of His Grace, the Duke
He lowered his hand, his features now impossibly soft. “Rosalie...”
“Don’t ever touch me out of pity, James. I can’t bear it. Not from you.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Tell me their names, and I will purge them from this Earth.”
“I will never tell you. They’re already dead to me. You asked for my truth, and I said I will not lie. Please don’t hate me for my past—”
“Hate you?” He looked horrified at the idea.
“Don’t judge me, then,” she corrected.
“Rosalie, you were a child! You deserved protection, a safe home, a guardian worthy of the name. If he was not already dead, I’d kill him myself. Tell me where he is buried, so I may spit on his fucking grave.”
“No,” she whispered. “The ghosts of my past shall not claim any part of my present. Let it go, James. For your own sake, if not for mine.”
A quiet moment stretched between them as she watched an array of emotions flash over his face. He was angry, confused, disgusted. At her? At her past? At their current confusing present?
Suddenly, he stepped forward. “I need to touch you,” he admitted, his voice pained.
She backed away. “Not so long as I can still see pity in your eyes.”
“Then look again,” he growled.
She sucked in a breath, noting the heat in his gaze. The longing. The aching need. Why must this man spin her up so completely? “James, I must know... in the library you said—am I still just a passing infatuation? Do I hold any interest for you other than your need to protect people?”
“Damn it, Rosalie, you are theonlything that holds interest for me!”
His words sent a jolt of desire straight through her. She wanted to feel bold, to put the pain of the last few minutes behind them both. “And... what it is about me that interests you? My eyes, perhaps?”
“Yes.”
“What color are they?” she whispered.
He let out a slow breath. “Brown... in the right light, they have flecks of gold. In this light, they are dark as night. Pools of blackness I want to swim inside. A starless sky.”
“And what about my arms?” She smoothed her hands up the length of her silky white gloves. “Do they interest you as well?”
“Yes.”
She held out her left hand, turning it over to expose the buttons at her wrist. “Why don’t you come get a closer look?”He closed the space between them in two steps, his hands going straight for the delicate pearl buttons. He popped each button and glanced up at her with hooded eyes, waiting for her permission to act. She dragged the glove down her arm.
His eyes were fixed on the movement, watching as she exposed her skin.
“What about my hands?” she whispered. “Do you find those interesting?”
He nodded, reaching out with the lightest of touches, his bare palm skimming along her gloved one. Even through the fabric, she felt the heat of that touch burn straight through her.
He glanced up at her again and she gave a little nod. That was all the direction he needed. Using both hands, he peeled her glove off, tossing it aside. He pulled her in by the wrist, raising her hand to his lips. He kissed her palm, his lips soft.
She leaned in, letting a whimper escape as he kissed down her thumb, nipping the tip. Her gloved hand went to his shoulder as she stepped into him. He pulled her closer, sucking her finger into his mouth.
“Oh, God.” She watched her fingers disappear. First one, then two. She pulled them out and gripped his face, tipping up on her toes with her chest pressed against him. “What about my lips—”
He claimed her with a kiss and then they were in a fight for dominance. He held nothing back, driving into her mouth with his tongue. She met his passion with her own, loving the feel of his hands on her, his hard cock pressed against her stomach. But she wanted more. “James, please—”
“What do you need?” His lips traced the arc of her neck. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need you to make me forget everything outside this room. Make me believe there is only you. Worship me until I beg you to stop—”
