Page 31 of A Duchess to Unravel (The Devil’s Masquerade #3)

Embarrassment started to eat through her pleasure, and she began to push Alistair away.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped, wanting to crawl off and disappear. She’d had releases before. All of them caused by Alistair. But they had never erupted like this.

Alistair’s eyes were wild and black as his head shot up. His hands were around her arms at once, preventing her from pushing him further away.

“I love it,” he rasped, then kissed her lips. “Dinnae be ashamed of what I make ye body do, Theo. Dinnae ye dare. This is exactly how I want ye. Warm and slick and ready for me.”

Theo whimpered at his command and weakly pulled her arms around his neck to better accept his kiss.

His cock pressed tightly to her opening as she pulled him closer, sending shivers of desire throughout her body.

He was close, but nowhere near close enough.

She wanted him inside of her, claiming her.

“Alistair,” she breathed, pulling away from his kiss, “Please!”

A deep moan poured from Alistair’s chest as she pleaded with him, but he was not done with his wicked game yet.

“Please, what? Little kitten. I want to hear ye say it,” he commanded. He shifted his hips, just enough so that she could feel the fluid movement of a would-be thrust, and she felt her need drive higher.

“Make love to me,” she panted, her nails deeper into his flesh. “Take me. Make me--oh!”

Alistair’s initial thrust was slow and steady, but to Theo, it felt lightning quick. Whispered praises, once more in that unknown language, poured from Alistair’s lips as he stilled inside of her and waited for her to grow accustomed to him.

“Breathe, little one,” he coaxed in English, swirling his hips in a way that made stars shoot behind Theo’s eyes.

Theo tried, but the tightness, the pain she felt in her core was all encompassing. He was too big!

She shook her head left to right, trying to push herself to get used to him. Then she felt the gentle caress of his fingertips across her cheek.

“Open ye eyes, love,” he commanded softly, stroking soothing touches along her face. “Look at me.”

Though it took effort, Theo’s lashes finally fluttered upward, and she found his handsome face staring down at her. His expression was so sincere it made her heart ache, his coaxing smile, making her womb spasm and open further for him.

“Eyes on me,” he whispered, “and breathe.”

She watched as he drew a deep breath in through his nostrils, then he held it as if waiting for her to mimic him. With effort, she remembered how her lungs were supposed to operate, and she drew her own breath in. Then Alistair parted his lips and let the breath out, and she followed.

“One more,” he encouraged, and this time, together, they drew another deep breath in and out.

Theo felt her taut body begin to relax, and the throbbing pain at her core begin to subside as Alistair breathed with her. Alistair drew his hips back then, just a little, and thrust into her again. She moaned at the sensation, which was much less painful than before, and remembered to breathe.

He continued with those small, soft strokes until the tension in her body faded, and her digging nails turned into soft caresses along his back.

“That’s it, love,” he praised, drawing back further this time, “Relax for me.”

He kissed her sweetly, more tenderly than ever before, and sunk himself back in.

Theo’s mouth gaped open again, but this time, it was not a cry of pain, but one of deep ecstasy.

Alistair’s answering moan was one of equal pleasure, and they began to move together.

Her legs soon wound around his hips once again, encouraging him to take more of her, and as she wrapped herself fully around Alistair, she fully let herself go.

Her lashes fluttered shut again, but only out of ecstasy, and she lost track of where she stopped and where Alistair began.

Their movements were fluid. As natural as water in a stream, and with every thrust she felt that pin prick of pain wash away replaced with hot, stoking pleasure until it was all she could feel.

When she thought she would surely burn up from the fever of it, her entire body released with a long, pouring moan that left her throat sore.

Exhausted, dizzy with pleasure, Theo’s limp arms fell from around Alistair’s back, and she spread her legs farther to fully and completely give herself to him.

“My beautiful Theo,” Alistair groaned as he rose to his knees, placing her limp legs over his shoulders, “My wicked little kitten.”

Theo smiled despite her spinning mind, feeling delirious and sated and still oh-so-full as Alistair drew closer to his own release.

“Yours,” she purred, not fully recognizing her own words. “All yours, Your Grace. “For now. Forever.”

Alistair’s groan of release was both guttural and feral, more beast than man as she felt him swell to an almost impossible size within her, then he released.

Theo moaned softly as she felt pump after pump of his seed shoot into her, reveling in some primal, instinctual way that made her feel proud of what she’d been able to help him accomplish.

“Oh, God,” Alistair panted as he finished. He fell heavily, but didn’t let a single ounce of his weight touch her; instead he braced himself on his forearms, quivering for a moment, before he rolled to his side, panting and trembling from the intensity of his release.

Theo stretched, starting to feel a soreness in her womb, and though she was not sure where she was going, she tried to get up. Before she could, Alistair’s heavily muscled arm was banded around her, and she giggled as she felt him drag her to his chest.

“Where do ye think you are going?” He murmured, nuzzling his chin into the top of her head as she burrowed into his chest.

“I don’t know,” she panted, “My mind is not working as it should. I-- do not know what to do.”

She laughed weakly at her own confession, and it made her heart throb and swell as Alistair let loose a weak, breathy laugh as well.

“Here,” he whispered, placing soft kisses in her hair as stroked his fingers lazily down her back. “Ye will stay right here.”

“How do ye feel?” Alistair asked.

In his arms, cheek pressed against his chest, Theo let a sound of content that hit him sharply in the heart.

“Warm,” she yawned, snuggling into him. “Happy.”

Alistair chuckled, scooped up some water from their bath, and let it trickle over her back.

He was mesmerized by her body. By the way her spine curved down to her plump cheeks; by the small dimples that rested just above them.

He could feel her bare breasts and abdomen pressed tightly into him, as if she were afraid the water would carry her too far away from him.

He couldn’t help it he wound his arms tightly around her and snuggled into her; loving the way she felt against him. She was a perfect fit.

“Are you very sore?” He asked her.

He felt her shake her head.

“Not so much anymore,” she replied, her tone sleepy, “The water helps.” She laughed softly and curled tighter around him, making his heart leap in his chest.

“What?” he laughed.

“I have always loved long baths, but I never knew how much better they could be with another person.” She replied.

Neither could he. He’d bathed with a woman before. Or rather, he’d been serviced by women while he’d been in the bath. But this? With Theo? It was heavenly. His body had never been so sated. So relaxed that even his mind was unable to wonder very far past the present.

“Alistair?”

“Hmm?” he rumbled, reaching up to stroke her hair.

“What language are you speaking?”

He drew her up so he could look into her eyes and gave her a questioning look. Theo’s cheeks flushed pink, and she cast her eyes down as she murmured, “never mind.”

“No, no,” he goaded, turning her around so her back came to his chest, “What are you speaking of? What language?”

Theo was silent a moment as she fiddled with the fingers of his hand.

“Sometimes when you are being … passionate, you speak another language. Not English. Your Scottish brogue sets in deeper, as if you are becoming someone else.”

A smile twitched on Alistair’s lips as he wrapped his fingers around Theo’s exploring hand and brought it to his lips.

“It’s Scottish Gaelic,” he told her, running her fingertips over his lips. “My apologies. I didnae even realize I was doing it.”

“I do not mind,” Theo added quickly, glancing back at him, a small smile on her lips. “I was just curious. What are you saying when you speak it?”

Alistair felt a rare bout of embarrassment as he thought of his answer.

In truth he did not know. He’d never lost such control before to simply switch languages mid conversation.

Yet he’d obviously done so with Theo. Enough times for her to notice.

A seed of discomfort planted into his heart at the realization, and his smile faded.

He seemed to be losing all sorts of control when it came to Theo.

“Praises,” he murmured, slowly losing himself to thought as he absently rubbed Theo’s palm.

“How did you learn to speak it?”

“All of my nannies were Scottish,” he replied, memories of his childhood coming back to him.

“They spoke both English and Gaelic. Would switch from one to another smoothly. I had already learned much before my parents got me a proper tutor to learn the language. My father thought it might be necessary if our businesses ever expanded into the small villages of the Scottish Highlands.”

“And did they?” Theo asked.

He nodded, losing a little more of himself to thought.

“It must have been lonely,” Theo murmured, “Growing up in exile. None of your people around.”

“Hmm? Not so much. My parents were both lively people. They didnae let their exile become them. There were constant guests in our home. Some had children. And then there was Bonnie.”

Alistair felt a pain slam into his head, making him flinch. How long had it been since he’d said her name? Since he’d thought of her?

As if Theo had felt him flinch, she turned in the water and straddled his hips, her eyes meeting his as she rested an elbow on his shoulder and began stroking his wet hair. There was no jealousy in her eyes, he noted, just the yearning to know more about him.

“Who is Bonnie?” She asked.

Needing to touch her, needing a link to the present, Alistair’s hand slipped around Theo’s thin waist. Immediately he was comforted by the touch--and that in itself unnerved him all over again. Inside, feelings began to go to war with another.

“She was my sister,” he answered, fighting to keep his battle inside. “She passed away when she was young.”

Sympathy poured from Theo’s eyes, and he had to look away.

“I am so sorry,” she apologized, draping her body over his.

Despite the inner battle, Alistair rubbed his cheek along her temple. He leaned into the sensation of touching her, depending on it.

“May I ask what happened?”

Alistair pressed his eyes shut, not fond of the memory. It was the first time he ever learned that despite how much control he wanted to have, there were some things he could not.

“We were swimming in the Loch one summer,” he told her, the memory growing sharp and vivid in his mind.

“It had been a particularly hot day, and my parents did not think twice about letting us go into the cold water.

I was fifteen. Bonnie was eleven. We must have been in there for hours, but somehow, Bonnie never grew tired of swimming, even long after I had.

“I tried to get her to come to shore with me. Our parents urged her, too. But she just kept swimming. She stayed in the water until sunset, then finally came back to shore, all smiles and laughter. She’d had an amazing day.”

Alistair’s fingers involuntary flexed against Theo’s waist, tightening his grip.

“She soon caught a chill,” he went on. “We all scolded her. Told her it served her right for staying in the water so long. We all thought she’d have a cold for a few days and then be right as rain.

But she didn’t. She never recovered. And a week later we buried her.

Not long after that, lost in grief and ignoring her own health, my mother died.

Then years later, his own grief unhealed, my father followed them. ”

Alistair let the silence settle around him, out of words and full of shame for what he’d just confessed. He’d never explained his past to anyone. Never showed the guilt and sadness he’d harbored so long after the death of his family.

Theo leaned forward, as if to kiss him. But it was too intimate of a gesture for him to accept.

He tilted his head to the side before her lips could make purchase and made up for it by pulling her to his chest. Theo remained rigid for a moment, as if not sure how to feel about it, then went soft against his body, and placed a kiss upon his pectoral muscle as she settled into his embrace.

To his relief, she remained silent, as if knowing he had said too much. They stayed that way, curled around another until the water in the tub grew tepid, and small shivers began to twitch down Theo’s spine.

“It is late,” Alistair murmured, finally breaking the silence. “Your body has been through much tonight. Let me get you to bed.”

Theo sighed contently against his chest, nuzzled him once more, and then rose from the water. He followed her and wrapped her tightly in a bathing sheet before attending to himself.

“Perhaps you could lend me a shirt?” Theo asked, absently drying her hair.

Alistair raised a brow.

“What for?”

A faint smile curved Theo’s lips as a small blush filled her cheeks.

“Well my lovely dress is shredded,” she replied, “And I cannot walk back to my rooms naked.”

Despite the warring feelings inside of him, a smile touched Alistair’s lips, and he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“You will stay with me tonight,” he gently commanded, rubbing his hands down her shoulders, over her back, “We can figure out clothes in the morning.”