Page 18 of Between a Duke and a Hard Place (The Honeywells #1)
Chapter Seventeen
M ax waited until he heard her bid him enter. But when he opened that door and stepped inside Violet’s bedchamber, the sight that greeted him was simply beyond even his wildest imaginings.
She stood beside her bed, wearing only her shift. Of the finest and most delicately embroidered lawn, she might as well have been entirely nude before him for all that it concealed. And she was beautiful. Her body was simply a work of art. Full breasts tipped with delicate pink tips, narrow waist, lushly curved hips, and long, supple legs with a tempting dark V between them.
“I didn’t you were coming,” she said softly.
“I needed a moment.”
“To steel yourself for the unpleasant task?” She asked, her voice sharp.
Had she truly thought that? Of course, she had. But if they were about to completely alter the course of their relationship, it was time Violet heard the truth from his lips. So he set about telling her, even as he slowly untied his cravat.
“No. Not exactly… We’ve been fighting for years, Violet, and I can’t even say what prompted it. One day, it appeared as though you had taken me into dislike. And in all honesty, it was convenient that you had.”
“Convenient?” She gasped.
“Yes. Convenient. Because at the time, though things had soured between us, Katherine was still very much alive… I was not free to pursue anything with you that would have been honorable and I would not dishonor you with anything less.”
She blinked slowly, clearly stunned by his admission. “You were having feelings for me when you were still married to Katherine?”
Max looked away from her for a moment, casting his gaze toward the low burning fire. He was admitting something to her that he’d thought he never would and the importance of that moment was not something he wished to rush through. “Yes, Violet. I’ve had an attraction for you for a very long time now.”
“You never gave any indication that you wished for a different sort of relationship with me,” she protested.
It was true enough. And he hadn’t done it because the risk had been so great to his mind. “Stoking your animosity, needling you? It was my way of protecting us both from that,” he confessed. “And now, my only struggle is this— I fear that I have trapped you in this marriage with me. That when you give yourself to me, it will be about duty and obligation… not desire.”
“I simply cannot fathom what you’re saying,” she insisted. “You loathe me! You kissed me once and acted as though the experience was so horrible you never wished to repeat it!”
“Violet,” he said, shaking his head head. “You are terribly naive… innocent in ways that make me ashamed of the thoughts I so frequently have about you. It was never loathing, only the pretense of it. But I fear that I have pretended so well, your animosity towards me might never abate.”
“You are not the only one who has been pretending,” she admitted, her voice little more than a whisper.
At first, Max was certain he had not heard her at all. That those barely audible words had been a figment of his imagination—a product of his desire for them to be true. But then she met his gaze and what he saw in her eyes so perfectly reflected his own feeling—all the longing, frustration… all the doubts and fears. But also, there was something else there. The slight flare of hope, of deeper feeling than either of them was ready to lend a name to. So he did what he had been longing to do. He strode toward her with purpose and pulled her into his arms, their bodies pressed together and for the second time, he claimed her mouth in a kiss that seared him to his very soul.
She kissed him in return with equal fervor. Her arms were about his neck, her hand sliding into his hair. It felt like the greatest of victories, as if he’d conquered an entire army or slayed a mythical dragon. Because it was what he had wanted for so many damned years and it was what he had thought he would never have. Violet, in his arms, soft and pliant… eager for his touch.
Max broke the kiss only long enough to sweep her up into his arms and carry her to the bed. When he placed her upon the mattress, she simply held her arms out, inviting him to join her. Tugging his shirt free of his breeches and tugging it over his head, he tossed the garment aside and then did as she’d bade. He laid down beside her, their legs tangled together. With more tenderness than he had ever dared show, he brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and then kissed the path it had followed… to the delicate shell of her ear, down her neck to that tantalizing curve where it met her shoulder.
The breath shuddered from her when he applied his teeth to that spot, gently but insistently. It would leave a mark, as had been his intent. Perhaps it was some primitive masculine instinct to mark her as his, but he had no wish to fight it.
“Max,” she uttered his name on a soft sigh. “I didn’t know I could feel this way.”
“How do you feel, Violet?”
“As if I’m burning from the inside out, as if the very blood in my veins has heated to the point of fever,” she admitted.
“Then I am doing my job well.”
“Your job?”
“Yes, Violet. My job. My duty. My desire. To bring you pleasure and passion… to show you just how glorious your body is and all that it is capable of. Do you trust me?”
“Always… even when we were at odds, I trusted you. You were the first person I turned to for aid… and that had nothing to do with my brother. That was simply you.”
Max plucked at the ties of her chemise until the gathered garment gaped open, baring a deep V of the delicate, pale skin between her breasts, down to her belly. Dipping his head, he pressed a kiss to that valley, then licked the tender skin until her eyes closed, her neck arched and she offered the bounty of her perfect breasts up to him. It was a temptation that he was both unable and unwilling to resist.
Turning his head, he found one furled tip and took it between his lips. She gasped in surprise, but when he laved that hardened bud with his tongue, that gasp turned to a soft, pleasured cry. He did not stop there. By turns gentle and demanding, he teased and taunted the tender peaks until she was gripping his hair, holding him to her. It was wholly unnecessary as there was nowhere else he’d rather be.
He curled one hand over her knee and then slid it upward, slowly, dipping beneath her chemise until he encountered the satin skin of her thighs. Dragging his lips from hers, he urged, “Open for me, Violet. Let me touch you.”