Page 57 of A Duke's Lustful Portrait
“Where would you like this, My Lady?” the footman asked. His face had turned puce with effort, and Arabella had to hold back her laughter.
“Just there is fine, thank you.”
He dropped everything on the spot and then scuttered away as if frightened he might be tasked with some other cumbersome job. The butler bowed and then followed, closing the door behind them.
Arabella stood perfectly still, her hands clasped demurely in front of her, staring at the man she had fallen quite in love with as he kept his attention on his newspaper. Meeting him had sent her into turmoil, a whirlwind of emotion whipping up inside her.
She hated what he represented in the society, yet she loved him for the man he was deep down. She feared her father and what would become of them, yet at the same time, she felt more hope than she ever remembered feeling. She was overjoyed when her father told her she would paint him again.
Finally, after an eternity, he lowered the paper, folding it carefully and placing it to one side. He raised his eyes slowly, but when they finally met hers, they locked in place. Arabella’s breath hitched, but still, she did not move.
“My Lady.”
He nodded, and when he spoke, the velvety richness of his voice sent shivers through her. It was that which broke the spell, and without another word, she ran to him. He rose from his chair and thrust his hands into her hair, pulling her face to him to kiss her passionately.
She threw her arms around his back, her fingers pushing into his shoulder muscles. She could feel the heat of his body through his thin cotton shirt, and she knew she wanted him, needed him. She tugged it out of the waistband of his trousers and up over his head, revealing his bare flesh.
Arabella took a step backwards, drinking in the sight of him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. They had barely exchanged greetings, and already, they were unable to keep their hands off one another, drawn to each other’s bodies by some invisible force.
But, goodness, how could I resist?
Slower this time, Arabella put her hands against Sebastian’s chest, spreading her fingers out to encompass as much of him as she could. His skin had a light sheen of sweat, and she leaned forward to kiss the centre of his torso, tasting him on her lips. He moaned, throwing his head back.
“Oh, Arabella,” he groaned. “Good Lord, I needed this.”
He guided her upright and kissed her lips, his own so soft and tender. She moaned into his mouth. He stepped forward, driving her backwards until she was perched on the end of the desk. She pushed herself up until she sat on the edge, and she opened her legs, welcoming him in and wrapping herself around him.
“I should be painting,” she murmured as he nibbled her earlobe. “How would you like to pose?”
“I want to be inside you,” he whispered, making her whimper with desire.
“I’m not sure that will make an appropriate painting,” she replied, breathless with her yearning.
“I don’t care about the painting,” he growled. “I care only about you.”
Sebastian tugged on the neckline of her gown until the muslin tore. Arabella gasped, shocked by his brute force and how much she liked it. She pushed her chest out, urging him now that she was exposed. He took her cue, lowering his head and drawing her nipple into his mouth, between his teeth. He bit down on it, making her cry out while pushing his crotch against the warmth between her legs.
“You drive me wild,” he cried, his lips frantic on her body. “You turn me into an animal. I want to make you mine.”
“I am already yours.”
She pushed him away and slipped down from the table. He yanked his trousers down, revealing himself. She licked her lips as she looked down at it, and then she cupped him in her hand, feeling the pulse of his pleasure through his flesh. She walked him backwards until he fell into his chair, her hand still grasping his manhood.
He growled, his eyes darting over her as she stepped back, leaving him desperate and craving. She teased him with a dance, her hips swaying as she raised her skirts, exposing her ankles, her knees, her thighs, her sex. With her gown around her waist, she mounted him, settling her knees on either side of him.
With delicious anticipation, she lowered herself onto him. She gasped as she pushed herself down, his size overwhelming her all over again. Surely he was even bigger than last time. He put his hands on her hips and guided her, moving his body in time to hers until they were both moaning.
It was a matter of mere minutes before he held her in place, pushing as deep inside her as he could, spreading his seed within her. It was that act that sent Arabella over the edge, and she threw her head back, crying out as her body shuddered with pleasure, every bit of her unravelling.
They made love twice more that evening, retiring to Sebastian’s bedchamber with wine and ale. Sebastian ordered a platter of cheese and cold meats and fruit, which they fed to one another, draped over each other. As the night wore on, they became gentler, their urgency spent with their energy. The rest of the world melted away, their problems disappearing into some future time they didn’t think about.
As she lay in Sebastian’s arms, Arabella knew their time was running out. She tried desperately to live in the moment and not needle him about the Lord’s Society and his role in it. There would not be many more chances for them to be together, to simply be, and she embraced it with every fibre of her being.
But even Arabella knew it had to come to an end. If he went through with whatever horrid task her father had set, she knew she could not see him anymore. She wouldn’t be able to look him in the face.
“Thank you for coming this evening,” he said, his fingers running gently through her hair. “I know I had to lie to get you here, but it was worth it.”
“Yes, it was,” she replied. “It has been truly wonderful, as it always is when we are alone. I only wish we could spend the rest of our lives like this.”
