Page 95 of How to Seduce a Duke this Autumn
Her pride at his words warred with the lingering guilt that clung faintly to her thoughts, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away—not when he made her feel like this. Like she was beautiful, wanted, irreplaceable. She allowed herself to drown in it, in him, tilting her head back as his lips traveled down the length of her neck. A soft moan escaped her lips before she could catch it, and her cheeks flamed at the sound, though she didn’t stop him.
“Adam,” she managed, her voice wavering as her fingers tightened on his shoulders. “You make me… you make me lose all sense.”
He chuckled softly, the deep, rumbling sound brushing against her skin. “Then we’re even,” he murmured, lifting his head just enough to meet her gaze. His dark eyes were burning with something she didn’t quite have the words to name, but it left her breathless all the same. “You drive me mad, Charlene.”
A faint, trembling laugh escaped her lips as the weight of his words sank into her, warming her from the inside out. She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over the faint stubble that darkened his jaw. “This… this is madness,” she said softly, her voice catching on emotion. “But I don’t want it to stop.”
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, Adam’s lips captured hers again with a tenderness that set every nerve in her body alight. His hands held her steady, supporting her as they moved together, their bodies fitting against each other in ways that felt as though they’d been designed for this moment. And for the first time, Charlene didn’t feel shy about how much she wanted him, how much she needed to feel him close. Because in this moment, there was only him—Adam, with his intoxicating strength and quiet adoration—and the way he made her feel alive in a way she’d never known before.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The soft morninglight spilled into the room at the Duchy Hotel, streaking across the polished wood floor and gilding the edges of carelessly discarded clothes. A crisp autumn breeze drifted in through the open window, carrying with it the faint scent of turning leaves. Adam leaned against the headboard, his dark hair still mussed from sleep, his shirt haphazardly buttoned, while his gaze rested solely on Charlene.
She stood by the window, a vision of effortless disarray. Her hair, the color of rich honey, caught the draft and danced about her shoulders with a kind of wild grace. She turned her head slightly, directing those sharp, steady eyes of hers out over the rooftops. The flush in her cheeks from the chilly air only made her seem more alive. Changed, yes—that was the word for it.
“You’re different this morning,” Adam murmured, his voice carrying an unmistakable warmth.
She looked back at him, one brow quirking as curiosity softened her features. “Am I? How so?”
He allowed himself a slow, lazy grin, the kind that always seemed to disarm her just slightly. “You’re more feminine in ways I’d never imagined.” His words were measured, but his tone carried the quiet gravity of a man thoroughly undone.
A laugh escaped her, light but wry. “Your mother would disagree entirely. She once declared me a hoyden. Repeatedly,in fact.” Her words carried no bitterness, only the faintest lilt of amusement.
Adam shook his head firmly, his expression softening even further. “She has no idea, Charlene. Not a single notion of who you truly are.”
His voice held the conviction of every word he hadn’t found the courage to say before. He got to his feet now, crossing the room in a few long strides. Standing before her, framed by the light streaming in from behind her, he reached out to lightly brush a lock of hair from her face. She didn’t flinch, nor pull away. Her lips parted just slightly as if on the verge of some thought not yet formed.
“You are lovely,” he said softly, his eyes taking her in as if he might never forgive himself for missing a single detail. “Utterly, completely.”
Her gaze dropped for a moment, though a faint smile touched her lips. She gathered her composure and looked up at him again, softly exhaling. “This… This was my awakening.”
Something shifted in his chest. He quirked a brow, though the corner of his mouth tilted upward in a teasing smile. “Awakening, was it? If you mean what we’ve just done… well, over and over all night, I’m happy to take credit for that.” He reached to tuck one of her hands into his, brushing his lips over her knuckles in one smooth movement. “I assure you I’m feeling completely awake this morning, and ready for more enlightenment.”
Charlene’s laughter was warm, almost embarrassed, as she tugged lightly at her hand but didn’t pull away. “Not that,” she said softly, her tone taking on a richness that silenced even his playful amusement. “I don’t mean…”
He furrowed his brow slightly, watching her face with careful attention as her expression shifted, revealing a quiet vulnerability he hadn’t quite expected.
“It’s my heart, Adam,” she said simply. “I fell in love this autumn.” She paused, gaze flicking to the narrow panes of the window and the kaleidoscope of tawny leaves flickering in the distance. “And it’s the season for harvest, is it not? Reaping what we sow?” She looked back at him then, and her words softened to a murmur. “I think this… this is what we’ve been planting all our lives. We’ve been preparing for it without even realizing.”
Adam’s chest tightened, the weight of her words sinking straight into the fabric of his being. He didn’t speak, not yet. He only brought her hand to his chest, pressing it lightly there, over the steady drum of his heartbeat.
“That,” he said eventually, his voice roughened into something quieter, more intimate, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
Adam dipped his head, his forehead brushing hers as if he needed that closeness—that connection to her—to breathe. Her gaze remained steady on his, unwavering, yet there was a softness in her expression, something that captured the essence of her confession from moments before. He cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin in slow, deliberate strokes, committing every inch of her to memory.
Then, gently, as though savoring the moment more than the act itself, he kissed her. Her lips were warm and pliant beneath his, her breath mingling with his in a way that sent heat coursing through his veins. The world beyond the room dissolved; there was only the faint rustle of the wind through the open window and the press of her against him. It wasn’t the hunger of self-indulgence but the quiet, certain kiss of a man who knew, down to his marrow, that this woman was his everything.
When they parted, barely an inch between them, Adam rested his forehead against hers, his palm still cradling her face. He could feel her breath against his skin, the faint rise and fall of her chest as if she, too, was anchoring herself to him. His voicewas low and rough, his words spilling out as if he couldn’t stop them even if he tried.
“I want to marry you,” he said, the weight of it settling between them like a vow already made. His thumb skimmed the curve of her jaw as he searched her face. “Not next month, not next season. Now. I don’t want to waste a single moment more.”
Charlene’s eyes widened, soft green pools shining with something he couldn’t quite name but that gripped his heart all the same. She reached up, her cool hands finding his face, and the unexpected tenderness of her touch left him utterly undone. Her fingers slid just along the edges of his jaw, steady and sure, as though she were grounding him with nothing but the press of her palms.
“You don’t waste time, Adam,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper, though it carried a conviction beyond its quietness. Her thumbs brushed against his cheekbones in a lingering stroke, her lips curving into the faintest echo of a smile. “You savor them. And that, I think, is why I shall love you for the rest of my days.”
She kissed him then, a kiss that was its own promise, as sure and certain as the words she had spoken. Adam felt the heat build within him again, but this time it came intertwined with something far deeper, something he could only describe as the fullness of knowing who he was meant to be with. A life with Charlene, a lifetime of this, seemed to unfurl in his mind, as vivid and tangible as the press of her lips against his.
Adam’s hand moved slowly, curving around the delicate line of her waist as he pulled her closer. His lips pressed more firmly against hers, a deliberate, unspoken plea for her to stay in this moment with him. Her fingers tightened against his shoulders, and she melted into him, her breath hitching softly as the kiss deepened, each passing second weaving an invisible tether between them.
