Page 33 of The Iron Duke's Flaming Christmas
Quickly, she got out of bed, feeling as if she were still in the grip of the dream, or as if she were ill, consumed with high fever. She had no idea what time it was. Perhaps she was too late. Perhaps he had waited for her in the library and left, thinking she wasn’t coming.
Desperately, she tore out of the room, her heart pounding harder. She didn’t care any longer that it wasn’t proper or sensible or that it was dangerous. She didn’t care about anything but getting to him before it was too late.
The grandfather clock chimed midnight as she ran down the hallway toward the library, tearing into the room, breathless. She gazed around, wide eyed. For one stricken moment, she thought he had left, or perhaps that he had never come.
But then, she saw a movement, out of the corner of her eye. She turned, gasping. He was slowly walking toward her, dressed only in his britches and a white shirt, which was unbuttoned, exposing his chest. His dark hair was tousled and falling into his eyes. She had never seen him in such a state of undress… except in her dream.
She shuddered with desire. The reality standing before her was even more powerful.
“You came,” he said, in a husky whisper. “It has been agony waiting for you… I thought you had decided against it…”
His voice trailed away as his eyes swept over her, taking in her flimsy white night attire, her hair hanging loose down her back. With one step, he closed the gap between them, grabbing her and pulling her toward him. His mouth found hers, his lips searing her own, opening her mouth with an urgency that crashed upon her like a giant tidal wave.
He pushed her against a bookshelf, his hands hungrily seeking her breasts through her nightgown, kneading them frantically. And then they were toppling and crashing through the room, and he was pushing her against a desk, his hands sliding up her bare legs, gathering her nightgown around her hips.
They stared at each other, panting, for a moment. His eyes were blazing with desire, half dazed. She felt a stab of yearning passion, unlike anything she had ever felt before, tearing its way through her body.
He moaned, dropping his head, his lips searing her neck, before moving down. He grabbed the bodice of her nightgown, tearing it aside, so that her breasts spilled out, the rosy nipples hard. He dipped his head, taking one of them in his mouth, suckling her, pulling it deep into his mouth.
Selene gave a strangled gasp, clawing at the desk, as the most intense sensations washed over her, radiating through her body. Her head tipped back, and a hot sweat broke over her flesh, like a fever.
She had never imagined that such passion was possible. Her heated dreams of being with him were a pale shadow compared to this.
His head dipped lower, his lips burning over her abdomen, moving lower still, reaching between her legs, buryingdeep. She gave another strangled gasp as she felt his tongue connect with her hot, wet sex, lapping and licking her. The sensations intensified.
Everything was turning to a brilliant white light, as she strained against his mouth, moaning loudly, seeking something, some kind of release, that she didn’t understand…
She cried out, her eyes opening wide in shock, as the sweet agony suddenly reached a peak, roaring through her, with such fury her body bucked and writhed beneath his mouth.
He was clambering on top of her, fumbling with his britches, pushing her legs wider… and then, she cried out again, as he slid his stiff, hard manhood into her body.
Their eyes met and held. She felt as if she were looking into his very soul.
He started moving slowly at first, then with increasing speed, sliding in and out of her. The rhythm was so good, so primal, that her hips rose to meet him, urging him on, straining against him.
The sweet sensations flickered to life again and she was climbing toward that peak once more, with a ferocity that took her breath away.
Her head started tossing from side to side. She moaned again, raising a hand to her mouth, biting hard on it, trying to stop herself from screaming. He dipped his head, attaching his mouth to her neck, biting her, as he moved faster inside her, grabbing her hips to push her higher against him…
Suddenly, he contorted, twisting above her, raising his head, his face contorted and glazed with lust. She felt a hot, sticky wetness flood her as she peaked again, crying out, twisting beneath him. She was falling and crashing into the very center of the earth.
She would never be the same again…
Selene blinked slowly, opening her eyes. They were tangled together on the desk—he was lying across her, not moving, his body slick with sweat. Carefully, she extracted herself, realizing that she was trembling from head to toe. He didn’t move.
She glanced at his face. His eyes were closed, and his face was in repose, frozen with a look of sheer bliss.
Quickly, she left the room, running down the hallway and the stairwell to the servant’s quarters, looking around fearfully. But the house was silent and still and there was no movement. She was in no danger of being caught—everyone had retired.
When she finally reached her room, she closed the door, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Her whole body felt different.
It wasn’t just the soreness between her legs, the legacy of their passion—it was as if her skin was tingling; as if she had shed a layer of it, and she was raw, had been born again—transformed into another woman.
She crawled into bed, pulling the blankets high, turning to her side. She still couldn’t believe it. The ferocity of her desire for him, spurred on by that burning dream, had led her as if by a string to the library, as if she had no free will at all. She had been enslaved to it and couldn’t have stopped it at that point even if she had tried.
It is done. It was always leading to this. Only a fool would have not realized it. My maidenhood has been taken by the Iron Duke… and I will never be the same again.
Chapter 18
