Page 94 of Bound By the Duke
Silence followed, this time hotter and heavier. They both knew this was the moment to part ways. To bow politely before retreating to their separate chambers. Time to pretend they didn’t yearn for one another.
But neither of them moved.
Aurelia swallowed, her palms trembling at her sides. She forced herself to speak again, although her voice was breathless, and much softer than she had intended.
“I suppose you would like to retire now…”
His eyes flickered.
He knew.Of course, he knew.
She wasn’t asking if he wished to sleep; she was asking if he wished to stay. To stay with her. To linger in this fire.
At that moment, his eyes fell to her mouth. Her breath hitched once again.
His stare lingered, and her senses heightened. She could feel that desperate need again. As for him? She could see it in him as well. That hunger. That shadow beneath his lashes. The twitch of his jaw indicated he was considering a decision.
Then, he spoke, his voice guttural and raw. “No.”
Her brows rose slowly, a flicker of hope touching the bronze in her eyes. Only for him to kill it.
“There are some things I need to check in my study.”
Without waiting for her reply, he gave her a curt bow—the cold, calculated kind—and turned around. His boots clicked against the stone as he walked away, not sparing her another glance.
Aurelia stood there, his rejection filling every inch of her, leading her to confusion once again.
When Percival stepped into his study, there was no peace.
He sat at his desk, but his mind was elsewhere. He had vowed control. He had vowed distance. He had vowed that her body would never be his.
Yet he could think of nothing else.
Her face. Her smile. Her melodic laugh. The way her gown clung to her curves, the swell of her breasts, the tiny tremor in her lips when she looked at him.
“Aurelia,” he groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
His body was so close to breaking. His cock was throbbing painfully against the confines of his trousers.
He stood up and grabbed the edge of his desk. He took another deep breath, trying to resist the urge. But his control? It was slipping like water through his fingers.
“Dammit.”
He stormed out, his steps echoing off the floorboards his body thrumming with a singular thought—Aurelia.
Soon, he was marching toward her chamber. But when he passed a certain corridor, he froze.
She was there. In the hallway. Under the soft glow of candles. She stood before a large painting of flowers, studying the colors, with her hands folded delicately before her.
She had not left.
And she was beautiful. So beautiful that it felt like a sin just to watch her.
Percival lingered in the shadows, drinking her in.
As though sensing him, she shifted slightly, and her eyes widened in surprise when she spotted him.
“Is something the matter?” Her voice was filled with both concern and curiosity.
