Page 22 of A Duchess to Unravel (The Devil’s Masquerade #3)

He’d reveled in the art of getting her out of her clothing.

Had removed each article with teasingly slow fingertips, followed by trailing kisses that had her panting and trembling by the time he’d finished.

She’d whispered his name in pleading tones before he’d even lavished attention on her breasts or pulsing sex, and when he’d finally gotten to them, she’d unraveled almost immediately.

It was only when he’d had her begging, did he release his feral side, and she had welcomed that side of hm.

Which had him wondering … had she been as pent up as he had? Had she been longing for his touch just has he had been longing to touch her? The very idea pleased him greatly.

Alistair lifted his head from her breast, smoothed his hand up the soft swell and toward her throat.

He let his fingertips dance around her collarbone, circle the small dip just below her throat.

Then he circled his hand around the thin column of her neck and squeezed lightly.

Her pulse beat rhythmically into his palm, just above his wrist where his own pulse began to beat in time with hers.

For a moment, their matching heartbeat had him smiling, content.

Then he frowned, realizing that it was a romantic notion to enjoy such a thing.

He enjoyed pleasure. Specifically, enjoyed giving it.

He loved the way it gave him control, the way it caused the person he was with to plead for more and often offer to do whatever he wished in order to get more.

He did not, however, enjoy being on such equal grounds that would cause him to enjoy a shared heartbeat.

Alistair slipped his hand away from Theo’s throat, wanting to get away from such thoughts.

He let his touch travel back down over her breasts once more, then toward her ribcage and again, he stopped.

Raising himself further up on his elbow, Alistair stared down at Theo, glancing once at her still-closed eyes before letting his gaze drop back down to her thinning waist. She was so small that half of her ribcage was taken up by his hand; and he could feel each individual bone.

“Why are ye not eating, Theo?”

Theo’s relaxed, supine body went rigid as her eyes flew open. She looked at him with pure betrayal and moved to get up. All it took was a simple flex of Alistair’s muscles to prevent the movement, and he gave her a look that had her frozen in place.

“Answer the question, Theo.”

His tone held no malice, but he made it clear that he was not letting her up without an answer.

“I am fine.” She replied, a bite to her tone.

“Not if you are starving yourself,” Alistair countered.

Her eyes swept down her body, and she scowled.

“You had no issues with my body when it was dressed. Is seeing me bare so awful?”

Alistair’s eyes narrowed.

“That is not the point I am making and ye know it,” he replied.

She reached for one of the rumpled sheets, as if trying to cover herself, and Alistair caught her wrist.

“Enough,” he commanded. “I have always been attracted to your figure. Ye know that. It is not about the way ye look. What I want to know is why you are not taking care of yeself.”

A pink blush slowly filled Theo’s cheeks as she lowered her eyes.

“I have not been hungry.”

Her tone was suddenly so soft, so broken, that it caused in ache in Alistair’s heart. He took a moment to wrangle his need for control, and when he spoke next, his tone was gentler.

“Why? Is the food not to your liking? Is Steaphan’s cooking to wild for ye? If so, one of the new English hands can prepare your meals.”

A small smile touched her lips.

“No. I quite like his dishes,” she replied, “I just … since my mother took ill, what I ate had been the one thing I could control. I suppose as I ate less, my appetite diminished.”

Alistair’s brow creased, and he could not help but lean down and brush a delicate kiss along her ribs. It eased his worry slightly as she let out a soft sigh and undulated slightly under the soft caress.

“Ye miss ye mother.”

It was a statement. One Theo did not refute.

“I do. Very much. I could not make her better. But ….”

“What?” Alistair whispered, looking up at her.

Theo nibbled her bottom lip for a moment, then spoke.

“Perhaps it goes beyond that. Even before she fell ill, there was so much pressure on me to find a husband. Which was a feat, given my obvious resistance to doing so. No one wanted a bull-headed wife such as I. One that was a bluestocking and liked to question things. My reputation was precarious long before I found the Devil’s Masquerade.

And the pressure of it … I think … It felt as if I were this great big thing being shoved into a very small space, and I was not strong enough to fight it.

I had to make myself small somehow, and I could not bear to stop feeding who I was- who I am, as a person.

My values, my thoughts. They are who I am.

I cannot limit them. I found other ways to limit myself and to feel some control. ”

She paused, her hand sweeping down toward the dip of her abdomen.

“I have never told anyone that before,” she murmured, her fingers grazing over her flat stomach. “Not even my friends.”

Alistair trailed his hand from her ribs down to her hand. He closed his fingers around hers and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles, her palm.

“Your secret is safe with me, little kitten,” he swore, looking into her eyes.

He was rewarded with a glimmer of relief in her blue eyes.

“Furthermore, you no longer need to restrict yourself in any way. You are now under my protection, and you may choose to be who you wish.”

Theo let out a small, hollow laugh.

“Except for Calypso. She may never rise again.”

Alistair said nothing. He could not deny that. Even as the threat of exposure seemed to be dwindling, he could not in good conscience allow her to take on her other persona. Not while her stalker remained a mystery, at least. However, he had plans to remedy that.

“Eat with me.”

Theo’s eyes flicked back to his, surprised.

“Each morning,” he went on. “Break your fast with me. I cannae promise you luncheon or dinner, not while I continue to my work, but I want ye to start having one meal with me a day. And while we are in London, I will do my best to be by your side for at least two meals a day.”

Theo studied him a moment, looking unsure.

“Why does this matter to you?” She asked.

“Ye are under my protection,” Alistair replied, letting go over her hand and sliding his body over hers. “From others and yeself. I willnae let my wife starve. For anything.”

As he said so he dipped his head to her neck, placing warm, wet kisses along her flesh. She shivered and reached for his naked back, pressing him further into her.

“Say ye will eat with me,” he said, his tone gentle yet commanding as he kissed down the column of her throat.

“I will,” she breathed, starting to writhe beneath him.

He hummed in satisfaction as he drew his lips lower to her breasts relishing the feel of her nails tightening against his back as he did so.

“Must we go to London, though?” She whimpered.

Alistair let out a throaty chuckle as he grazed his teeth over her nipple, then glided the tip of his nose from the underside of her breast up to the peak.

“Aye,” he rumbled, “We have work to accomplish there. I promise ye though, I will bring us back home as soon as possible.”

He skimmed his lips over her ribcage, down to her navel, and over the small crests of her hip bones.

He would not tell her that he’d enlisted Dominic’s help in finding her stalker, and he hoped their search would prove fruitful.

He wanted to wait until he was sure the matter was taken care of before he told her.

“Ye like it here?” He murmured, trailing kisses over her mounds.

A breathy sigh escaped Theo’s lips as he dragged his lower lip up her seam, and he looked up to see her smile.

“It is not so bad,” she said, her tone breathy.

Alistair let out a deep chuckle, and then turned his focus to more delicious things.