Page 16 of A Duke for Stealing (The Devil’s Masquerade #4)

Rose shook her head desperately against his shoulder, as if the discomfort of the fabric around her breast were truly unbearable.

“Allow me to take your pain away,” he groaned, and thrust his hips forward just enough so that she was pinned between his thighs and the table.

Rose let out a strangled cry as if she felt his erection press into her backside, but it turned into a sharp gasp as his mouth drew possessively over her throat. He traced his fingertips over the taut tips of her pink nipples, making her shiver, then rolled the peaked buds between his fingertips.

As he did so, he moved his hips against her again, streaks of pleasure jolting through his veins.

God, she was not even undressed, and she has me ready to burst.

The thought hit Everett like a thunderbolt. She has not even undressed yet, and she has me ready to burst.

This was not who he was. He was no eager, untouched boy to be so ramped up by such things.

He was an experienced lover. He usually needed more- so much more to make him this hard and close.

Years of indulging in devilish dalliances had tainted his tolerance, making it more difficult to find enjoyment without a hint of depravity.

The spell Rose cast about him snapped at once, replacing his lust with aggravation. Everett roughly pulled her corset and the bodice of her dress back up over her exposed dress, making her breath hiss as the coarse fabric no doubt bruised her sensitive flesh.

Knowing he just added more discomfort to her body put him in a fouler mood, and he released her completely. Everett felt a lump grow in his throat as his body screamed at him for stepping away, but he ignored it and shoved his hands into his pockets before he could start again.

Trembling, wobbly on her feet, Rose slowly turned around; her eyes wide with confusion and questions as a deep red blush bloomed from her breasts all the way up to her cheeks.

Everett cursed him silently and bit his bottom lip tight to prevent the apology that he so very much wanted to leave his lips.

He took several deep breaths, doing his best to wrangle his need back under his control.

“You are a Duchess now,” he finally stated.

“What?” Rose breathed.

He cleared his throat; ignored another bout of need slamming into his aching body.

“That is what I came to speak to you about. You need a new dress. Several, actually. Our little honeymoon is over. We have been called back to London for a ball next week.”

Rose needed a minute. The night had been filled with so many unexpected turns- and all of them involved Everett.

What had just happened? Where had her mind gone?

All she knew was that it had gone blank, absent even, the moment she felt his touch at her itching shoulders.

His kisses and sensual touch had soothed the discomfort, but his sudden withdrawal had her body more devastated than ever before.

She looked at him with pure confusion, so many questions filling her mind.

Should she ask him what happened? In truth, by his own look of discomfort, she was not sure if he knew either.

It was as if someone, something else had taken over their bodies and lulled them into a seductive trance that was now broken.

She reached for rage, for anger toward him.

She’d had it only minutes ago, before he’d started touching her.

Yet as she looked into his deep green eyes, she saw no bravado or wickedness. His eyes looked haunted, as if he’d only just now been brought back into his body. As if he felt the exact same confusion she felt.

Rose drew in a deep breath, begging her electrified body to calm itself, and finally found the strength to speak.

“I suppose it is time,” she said, only able to mutter despairingly. “I knew that I could not hide here forever.

Everett’s brow furrowed as concern flickered through that haunted gaze.

“You truly do not like them, do you?” He asked. “The parties, I mean. Our society.”

Rose swallowed a little bit more of that aching need that had been built up, gradually coming back to herself.

“I am not like you, Your Grace,” she said rather icily, “I am not such a social creature.”

“None of you are,” Everett muttered, his eyes flicking up and down her body. She hated how his gaze made her grow warm again.

“Your friends, I mean. Theo, Ophelia. Seraphina. Amelia.”

Rose shrugged, begging God to help her focus.

“We prefer another’s company, but that is about it,” she managed to get out.

Some of their tension seemed to die away, and Everett’s rigid shoulders eased down.

“And why is that?” He asked, genuinely curious.

Rose thought about it for a moment. It was not as if any of them were ugly. And their manners, for the most part, were quite on par. Save for the occasional burst regarding the bluestocking view, but their group was not the only one to partake in such conversation.

“We just never seemed to quite find our place, I suppose,” Rose confessed.

For a moment, a tinge of loneliness slithered through Rose’s body, pushing away the residual feelings of need. Once she shook her head, both sensations disappeared entirely, and she turned her focus back to the table.

“Either way, I am aware it does not matter,” she went on. “I am a Duchess now and acknowledge that my presence will be required.”

“You are married now,” Everett pointed out, feeling more like himself.

“It could be different for you.”

Again, Rose only shrugged, and for some reason he could not identify, that bothered Everett.

“How about this,” he offered, and without even thinking about it, he reached for hands, “What if I were to offer you a reward for going? Do you believe you could find a little more excitement for this soiree?”

A blush bloomed on Rose’s cheeks as he touched her, but she drew up a dubious brow.

“What sort of reward?” She asked warily.

Everett chuckled.

“Something you will like,” he promised, stroking his thumb across the back of her hand. He enjoyed the feel of her hands. So soft. So warm and small. Addicting. It was so very addicting to touch her. Even if he’d just sworn to himself he would not do so anymore, just mere moments ago.

Her eyes narrowed.

“Why do I not believe you?”

At this, Everett laughed and let go of her hands, needing to pull back before he lost himself again.

He thought for a moment that she swayed toward his fleeting touch, and wondered if she was worried about getting lost again, too.

Yet as he took another look at her, Rose was standing steadily again, her hands braced on the back of a chair.

“You will have to trust me eventually,” he stated, tucking his hands into his pockets before they ventured toward her again.

She’d made it clear the last time they’d touched, she did not want that. Or, at the very least, that was what she’d said. Her body, however, seemed to want something else.

“Do not forget that I know you, Everett,” she replied, interrupting his wondering thoughts. “Trust is something I highly doubt I will find in you.”

Everett felt his amusement wane at her icy words, and for the first time in his life, he felt the smallest twinge of guilt over how he’d once lived his life.

You may not trust me, but you nearly just let me take right here and now against this table.

“Trust or not, we still must go to this ball,” he muttered as he turned to leave. “Call on your friends. I expect you to have a new dress for the occasion. One that represents your new station.”