Page 23 of A Widow for the Beastly Duke (The Athena Society #1)

CHAPTER 23

E mma gasped, her mouth opening under his own, and immediately she was drowning in sensual heat.

All at once, she was set ablaze, her heartbeat pattering in her throat as their kiss deepened.

Time stood still, the world beyond their shared breath ceasing to exist. Victor’s hand slid to cradle the nape of her neck, his touch both reverent and possessive as his fingers threaded through the loosened strands of her hair. The gentle pressure guided her closer, erasing the last whisper of space between them.

“Victor,” she gasped, her hands shyly trailing down his chest.

His answering groan reverberated through her very bones.

“More,” he murmured against her mouth. “Touch me more.”

And, oh, how she wanted to! But…

“Victor, wait.” She pushed against him, a little too weakly to be considered a rejection. “We can’t… Not here. Tristan is?—”

“Where is your bedchamber, Emma?” Victor’s intimate question against her mouth had her shuddering, her heart in her throat, but somehow she found it in her to answer him.

“Up the stairs… two rooms down from Tristan’s—” She had barely finished the words before he was scooping her up into his thick, powerful arms, his chest broad and strong underneath her soft body.

“Oh!” Emma pressed her face into his neck to muffle her shriek, her arms tightening around his neck.

Victor chuckled low against her ear.

“Brace yourself, sweetheart,” he whispered, before he was racing up the stairs.

Emma was rather grateful that she’d dismissed the servants earlier in the evening. Otherwise, who knew which one of them would have happened upon this spectacle? This was a scandal waiting to erupt, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care at all.

No. She wanted this— wanted him —and she didn’t have the will to keep denying herself the pleasure of the touch of his calloused hands or the caress of his tongue.

When he took her mouth in an all-consuming kiss again, Emma gave in to the sensations completely.

She was only vaguely aware of him striding through the corridor, her legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, from the way the breeze danced in her hair as he quickened his steps.

The door to her room was pushed open, and between one breath and the next, she was pressed up against it as it clicked shut, Victor’s hands becoming ever bolder as the seconds passed.

“Yes,” she gasped, trembling against him, her palms pressing against the solid wall of his chest before gliding upward to rest on his shoulders again.

The fine linen of his shirt couldn’t disguise the heat radiating from his skin, warming her fingertips as they traced the contours of muscle beneath. She felt the shudder that coursed through him at her exploration, a primal response that echoed her unraveling control.

As Victor moved backward, the back of his knees bumped against the armchair beside her vanity. He sank right into it, their mouths tearing apart with an obscene sound that made her core throb.

She sank on top of him, her knees on either side of his hips, her legs feeling like jelly. Victor’s gaze seemed to burn even brighter as he stared down at her. She could see the outline of his member twitch ever so eagerly against his pants.

“You make me so impatient, My Lady.” He was moaning, his teeth catching his lower lip in a purely sexual gesture that sent a bolt of heat to her molten core.

She grunted at the force of it, her hips jerking once against his stomach, and then again, until she could not help but move on the hard blocks of his abdomen, if only to satiate the desperate hunger stabbing at her belly.

“Oh, please, please,” She did not know what she was begging for.

No. No, she did. She was just too embarrassed to say it. It had been many years, after all, and the last time she’d done this with another man, it was with her late husband, who had merely coupled with her out of cold obligation.

“Fuck, Emma.” Victor’s curse was guttural, and her hips jerked against his hard abdomen again, her lips falling open at the wanton pleasure of hearing him use such vulgar language with her, as though he were completely unable to control himself.

It made her feel even hotter to know that she elicited such a passionate response from this man.

He kissed her again, and it sent a sliver of delicious electricity across her nerves. The taste of brandy lingered on his lips, mingling with something uniquely his—a flavor she couldn’t name but instantly recognized as essential, as necessary as breath.

When his tongue swept along the seam of her lips in a silent plea for deeper access, she yielded without hesitation, meeting his advance with a shy boldness that surprised even herself.

Victor’s quiet groan vibrated against her mouth, the sound somehow both vulnerable and commanding. His free arm encircled her waist, drawing her from her kneeling position until she was half-seated across his lap, the arrangement deliciously improper yet impossibly right. The intimacy of their new position sent a cascade of sensation down her spine, each nerve awakening to possibilities she’d long denied herself.

Their mouths parted briefly, both seeking air, their foreheads resting against one another as their breaths mingled in the narrow space between them. Emma’s eyes fluttered open to find Victor’s gaze upon her, his pupils dilated until only a thin ring of color remained. The naked emotion she found there—desire tangled with tenderness, need intertwined with wonder—caused something to unfurl in her chest, a fragile hope she’d believed long extinguished.

“Emma,” he whispered, her name sounding like a prayer.

His thumb traced the curve of her cheekbone with exquisite care, as though she were fashioned of the finest porcelain, precious beyond measure.

She answered, not with words but by reclaiming his mouth, her fingers sliding up to frame his face.

Oh, how she wanted him. The thought barely registered before her other hand went to work on the buttons of his shirt.

Victor needed no further encouragement. He deftly divested her of her gown and undergarments, and then he simply stared.

Emma’s heart was pounding in her chest, and she put her hands over her naked breasts, shame coloring her cheeks a bright red.

“Do not… do not stare so much?—”

But Victor grabbed her hands and pulled them aside at once, pinning them above her head in a domineering grip that made her back arch.

“Do you know,” he murmured, his voice coming out like velvet, “how many times I have dreamed of touching and tasting your body, My Lady?”

Heart thundering in her ears, she just shook her head. She could not say a word.

“Countless,” he whispered against her chest as his head lowered, his breath hot against her erect nipple.

Emma let out a cry.

“I have imagined this moment countless times, Emma, and yet nothing compares to the real woman before me.”

Hard color rode high on his cheeks, and holding her gaze, he closed the negligible distance between them and sucked her stiff nipples into his mouth.

“Oh!” she moaned, throwing her head back, her back arched so hard it might have snapped. “Victor…”

Now, the heat in her lower belly grew even worse, and she could barely bear it.

“Hmm,” he groaned against her breast, and the sound sent a thrill through her core that nearly made her lose her mind. “Yes, you speak my name so deliciously.”

“Victor, you—” The words stuck in her throat when he flicked his tongue against her nipple again.

“Tell me, Emma.” He nipped the underside of her breast, his lips lightly grazing her stomach as he moved toward that part of her that desperately needed him.

“Did you dream of me… like this? Of my touch? Did you call out my name like this in the throes of a passionate dream, perhaps?”

Emma was so overwhelmed with the anticipation of pleasure that she did not think to lie.

“Yes!” she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I-I want you, Victor.”

“And you shall have me,” he said, his lips curling into a rakish grin that transformed his usually gruff demeanor into something that turned her heart into an inflated air balloon in her chest.

“But I cannot wait to have you, my dear Emma,” he said as his broad shoulders spread her legs wider so that her throbbing quim was open to his gaze.

Victor stroked one thick finger along the wet seam, and her hips jerked against him, a sharp cry escaping her lips.

“You… This body in front of me… is beautiful. And now you must forgive this savage, for I am about to eat, and I can pay no heed to table etiquette.”

Before she could even form a response to those strangely exciting words, Victor’s mouth was on her. He sucked hard, his teeth lightly grazing her nether lips, and her hips lifted from the bed, her legs already beginning to shake.

His arm came around her waist to hold her down as he continued his sensual assault on her with a ravishing abandon that shot her heart into her mouth.

“Oh dear God, I think I’m dying—” she choked out.

The beast had the audacity to chuckle against her, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as the pressure built.

“It’s not death, My Lady,” his voice vibrated against her, “but certain pleasure.”

“Oh, Victor, I’m—” she gasped. “I…”

“Yes, come for me, sweetheart,” he said, his lips closing over her bud suddenly. When he sucked on it, Emma lost her mind.

She climaxed with wild abandon, her mouth open in a silent scream, her legs shaking so hard she thought they’d break off.

Victor climbed back over her body and took her lips in another deep kiss. It was only when she came down from her high that she realized he was still clothed, even though his thick manhood pressed against her boldly.

“Victor,” she breathed.

He smiled at that, and her heart slammed in her chest. More. She wanted to see him smile more.

“I want… to see you, too,” she said.

He flinched. “Oh…” He swallowed hard, his eyes darting away once before returning to her gaze. “My body is far from…”

Her heart twisted in her chest at the vulnerability in his voice. She shook her head.

“I think you are the most exquisitely built man I have ever seen,” she said, and his eyes widened. “And I have dreamed of seeing your body above me, too.”

She traced the scar along his jaw, the mark of his past suffering now a path guiding her touch.

With a growl, Victor kissed her, swiftly and expertly divesting himself of his clothes until he was as completely naked.

Emma looked her fill. Yes, the scars were there, but they did not take away from the sheer beauty of him. If anything, they only added to it.

She groaned as he lowered his body to hers, his hands framing her cheeks.

“What is it, Emma?” he asked, concern and panic flickering in his eyes. “Are you?—?”

“Make me yours,” she whispered, impatient now, her hands trailing down to grab his hot, hard member.

Victor’s head snapped back, the strong cords of his neck straining.

Emma’s hips were undulating shamelessly against his own, and she didn’t quite care. “ Please . I can’t stand this anymore?—”

He grabbed her hands again and pinned them above her head, his expression fiery.

“You… have a knack for riling me up,” he growled, his other hand seizing her breast in a possessive grip that screamed, mine ! “Do you think you can handle?—”

She shut him up with another desperate kiss. “Ruin me, Victor.”

With a deep growl that came from the very depths of his chest, Victor entered her with one thrust, and she cried out, her body trembling around his.

“You little minx,” he hissed, his hips slamming in and out of her, rubbing against her rippling walls, soothing the itch and sparking a bigger one at the same time. “I wanted to be gentle with you, but you never know when to stop, do you?”

“Oh yes,” she whimpered, her fingers scraping down his back. “Don’t stop. Please don’t?—”

“I won’t,” he whispered against her lips, before taking them in a hard kiss.

His hands seized her hips, and he thrust his hard, throbbing member in and out with a reckless abandon that made her blood sing. She loved seeing him so unrestrained.

“Yes, yes,” she was moaning, but he covered her body and swallowed the sounds with another kiss.

“You sing so prettily for me, darling.” His hands trailed up her torso to gently squeeze her breasts. “Perfect,” he gasped, his hips slamming home inside her again with a force that made her breath catch. “Look how they spill out of my hands. So beautiful.”

She arched into his touch, seeking closer connection as ancient instinct overrode propriety and reservation.

There was no room for propriety and reservation now, anyhow.

“Damn all the devils,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

Emma could feel him swelling and thickening inside her.

She blindly bit down on the strong cord of his throat, her legs locking around his muscular back as he thrust one last time and began to come.

The cry he let out was animalistic, but it only heightened her pleasure, pushing her over the edge with him.

This was an irrevocable claiming, a marking of territory on her soul that no future denial could erase. She knew that, and she knew that he knew that, too.