Page 15 of A Duke for Stealing (The Devil’s Masquerade #4)

CHAPTER EIGHT

“ I t is bad form to interrupt a game, you know,” Rose scolded him.

Rose took the blindfold and whacked him in the arm with it, and he let out a mirthful chuckle. As he did so, the girls came out from behind the curtains, joining them in the center of the room.

He shrugged, then cast a fond look down at his nieces. He noted immediately that while they smiled back, they had tucked themselves behind Rose’s skirts.

“Do not just blame me,” he replied, “The girls could have told you.”

“He told us not to!” Leah spoke up immediately.

Everett chuckled again and winked at them, letting them know he was just teasing.

“Are you here to play with us as well, Uncle Everett?” Diana asked.

“If so, it is your turn to play the blind man,” Leah added.

He looked to Rose with a brow raised, and she only shook her head; still obviously flustered over what she’d just touched.

“Perhaps another time, girls,” he replied, pulling out his pocket watch to check the time. “It is well past your bedtime, I see. Why do you two not run along upstairs? I am sure your nurse is wondering where you are.”

“Oh, do let us stay up for one more game,” Diana pleaded.

Rose snatched his pocket watch from his hand and gasped as she read the time.

“No girls,” she replied, “Your uncle is correct. We should have gotten ready for bed an hour ago. However, I promise we will play again soon.”

“Aww,” both girls whined.

Everett opened his mouth to tell them to retire, but stopped himself as Rose went down to their level and put a hand on each of their shoulders.

“We had a wonderful evening, did we not?” She asked.

Though both girls were still frowning, they nodded.

“And we will have another,” Rose went on, her tone calm but firm. “For now, though, it is time for bed. Run along up, and if you are both in your night gowns and in bed by the time I come to check on you, I promise that I will read to you again.”

Everett watched as both girls’ frowns disappeared, and their eyes lit up.

“Good night!” They both called, then raced out of the room.

For a moment, as the girls left them alone, Rose and Everett simply stood before one another, unsure of what to do next.

Lovely crown,” Everett remarked.

Rose glared at him as she snatched it off her head and tossed it on the table, not responding.

“You are good with them,” Everett remarked.

“And you are a cad,” Rose replied, her tone dry. She took the blindfold and whacked him again, making him chuckle as he glanced away from the blow. “You should have said something.”

“It is you who confused me for a piece of furniture,” he teased, following her to the littered table of cups and plates. “Tell me, do you truly find my muscles that hard and impressive?”

Rose threw him a side glance as she busied her hands with gathering the paper crowns; her back turned to him.

“I am certain I did not say that,” she replied over her shoulder.

“Well, if your hand had gone any lower, you certainly would have,” Everett teased.

Pleasure coursed through him as he watched her shoulder twitch and her back undulate. He pictured that undulation pushing into him; her derrière brushing up and down against his already engorged. The very idea made his mouth water.

“I will not entertain talk like that,” Rose said, interrupting his daydream. “Now, pray, why are you here? I very much doubt it was to join our games.”

She twitched again, the movement not at all as sensual as it was before, and her hand came up to her shoulder. Everett’s brows furrowed slightly as he watched her tug the edge of her sleeve that lay against her shoulder, revealing a small line of redness where the seams met her flesh.

“Is something wrong with your gown?” He asked, ignoring her demand.

Still turned away from, Rose shook her head.

“It is nothing,” she sighed, then moved her hand to her other shoulder to make the same adjustment. The same red line appeared as she moved the bit of fabric, and he caught another around the back of her neck.

“It is not nothing,” Everett stated, taking a step toward her. “It is making you uncomfortable.”

“It is just these cheap fabrics,” Rose answered, a tinge of frustration in her voice. “They are not the most comfortable.”

Everett raised a curious brow. He’d never studied Rose’s clothes very much.

From a distance, they looked as fine as every other lady’s.

Yet with another step closer and a more thorough examination, he began to see the difference.

Thicker thread that frayed, no doubt causing the itchiness she was experiencing.

Tighter lines, too. There was no give to the gown, so instead of flowing around her, it clenched her tightly.

Very much like the dresses peasants wore.

“How long have you been fooling the ton with these cheap imitation gowns?” He asked.

He expected Rose to whirl around, slap him even for such a question- and to be truthful, he wouldn’t have minded. Yet instead, Rose placed her hands on the table and hung her head, still not looking at him.

“We all have our secrets, Your Grace.”

The weariness in her tone did not sit well with him.

“Rose,” he gently urged, no longer being playful. “How long?”

Rose brought her hand to her nose, sniffled, and shook her head.

“My Mother was not good with money,” she confessed. “My Father left us plenty, but her habits…her habits became expensive. Sometimes we had to make do with a little glamor.”

Everett’s heart twisted uncomfortably. He still did not know Rose’s full story, and for the first time, he was starting to understand that her life might have been far more uncomfortable than he’d first predicted.

Gently, he reached out to her shoulders and pushed the itchy fabric down. Her body trembled beneath his touch, but she did not pull away.

“What are you doing?” She whispered.

Everett smoothed his thumbs over those little red lines at her shoulders, then ran them over the back of her neck, eliciting a soft sigh of relief from Rose’s lips.

“You do not have to wear these anymore, Rose,” he murmured, drawing himself closer to her back. “You do not have to live like that anymore. Not with me.”

Gently, Everett lowered his lips to the small red line at the back of her neck and kissed it.

He ran his lower lip over the mark, tasting the sweet saltiness of her flesh as the edge of his tongue delicately glided over it next.

The small taste instantly made him want more, and he continued his kisses and soothing tongue work to the mark on her left shoulder.

This earned him another soft sigh as Rose melted against him, and he elicited a small sound from his own throat.

Her weight against his chest felt heavenly, and Everett slowly wound his arms around her waist, silently urging her to completely lean against him.

For a moment, Rose stiffened in his arms, then as his teeth scraped ever so lightly along her shoulder, her knees went weak, and she gave her body fully to him to hold.

“What are you doing?” She whispered, her head lolling back against his shoulder.

“I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable, Rose,” he murmured against her ear, sliding his hand up to her throat. “Not here. Not with me.”

Rose let out a small whimper as Everett squeezed his fingers just enough around her throat to take control of it.

Gently, he guided her neck to roll forward just a little so he could settle her head against his left shoulder instead of his right, and began placing soft, soothing kisses over the little red mark there.

This was not Everett’s typical form of seduction.

He was more of an outrageous flirt who used illicit words and looks to get a woman to blush and give in.

However, this method? This small, slow buildup of pleasure?

He was finding it vastly gratifying. Maybe it was because it was new.

Maybe it was because of the particular woman in his arms. Whatever the reason, he did not want to stop ‘helping her.’

“Where else is it uncomfortable, Rose?” He whispered into her ear, then nibbled lightly on her lobe.

He released his hand from her neck, using his fingertips to trail softly over the small hollow of her throat, her collar bones, then up to her jaw. Just this small touch had Rose shivering and leaning further into him, and he marveled at how sensitive she was.

“Here?” He asked, kissing the spot behind her ear. He inhaled deeply, catching the scent of roses and something sweeter —her natural scent —and it drove him further toward depravity.

“Mmm,” Rose whimpered, trembling again.

He traced the tip of his nose from the spot he’d just kissed to the middle side of her neck, and let out a soft, warm breath over her flesh.

“Or…here?” His voice was hoarse and growing as thick as his cock; which was now more rigid than ever before, and throbbing painfully beneath the confines of his trousers.

I wonder if she feels what she is doing to me? Just by letting me do this to her?

“Yes,” Rose breathed, letting her head loll further to the left, exposing the spot he’d just touched. “It…it hurts.”

“My poor, sweet angel,” he rasped, dipping his mouth to caress the spot. He lapped his tongue slowly over the spot, needing more of her taste, and not a whimper, but a need-filled moan poured from Rose’s throat.

His hands moved over her body, caressing her waist and gliding to her breasts. He squeezed gently as her heavy mounds filled his palms, and his kiss turned into a possessive bite.

“Oh, God,” Rose breathed, arching into him. As he’d daydreamed just moments earlier, the small movement sent her derrière grinding into his throbbing manhood, and he groaned at the ecstasy of it.

More. He needed more.

His fingertips dug into the seam of her bodice, dragging the dress and the cups of her bodice down. Her flesh was hot and soft in his palms, and he could not help but pulse his palms tightly over her breasts.

“I cannot imagine the discomfort you feel here,” he breathed against her neck as he squeezed tighter.