Page 78 of Bound By the Duke

She moaned when his lips found her throat, shamefully wanton. He answered with a growl, his hand sliding down her spine and gripping her hip, grinding her against him. He sucked hard on the hollow at the base of her throat, his teeth grazing, and his tongue soothing.

Her body shook. Her hips betrayed her. She ground against him, feeling his hard length against her belly. The sensation tore a sharp cry from her lips.

I make him hard. I make him lose control. He wants me. He needs me.

His hands roamed again and squeezed her waist, before one slid up and cupped her breast through her gown.

She gasped, her lips parting on a desperate moan as this thumb brushed her nipple. “Percival…”

It was not a protest. It was a plea.

He growled again, tearing his mouth from her neck only to trail hot kisses to the swell of her breasts. His teeth caught the fabric of her bodice, his tongue pressing against it, and then—God help her—his mouth closed over her nipple and sucked.

Aurelia cried out, her voice broken. Her hips bucked against him, needing friction.

Percival groaned against her breast, the vibration making her slick with need. For one terrifying, glorious instant, she thought he would strip her bare in the garden, and take her against the roses, against the fountain, against the very stone beneath their feet.

But then she heard laughter. Footsteps. Voices approaching along the path.

Percival froze. His teeth released her slowly, his breath ragged against the damp fabric of her bodice, his hardness still prodding her belly.

With effort so violent that it nearly tore him apart, he pulled back.

Aurelia staggered, her lungs burning. Her lips were wet and swollen. Her thighs pressed together helplessly, seeking relief. She wantedmore.

But somehow, a laugh escaped her lips. Breathless, dazed, delirious. The fact that they had almost caused a scandal right there in the garden was quite amusing.

But Percival did not laugh. His jaw was tight, his eyes churning with a storm that looked like it might swallow him whole.

Inside, he was battling against his instincts. His cock throbbed painfully, straining against his trousers. His body was screaming for her. His hands itched to knead her breasts. His lips tingled with the taste of her skin.

The realization that dawned on him was long overdue.

He wanted her too much. He would break for her. And that would be his doom.

CHAPTER 24

The morning after the ball was slow and pleasant. The streets of London teemed with life, refreshed from the lavish party of the night before

From the windows in her room, Aurelia could hear laughter spilling across the grounds below. Her mind had yet to recover from what had transpired between her and her husband.

The fingers she traced along the wooden sill halted when she noticed the creature on the ground below. A ginger cat prowled lazily, pausing to lick its paw before a stack of crates.

Her lips quirked up at the precious sight, her jaw coming to rest on her palms. It also made her heart clench, as she remembered Sir Whiskerton.

She pictured Lottie playing with her cat at Whitmore Estate, her brown hair tumbling about her shoulders, laughing as Sir Whiskerton batted at her ribbons.

My sweet furry knight. At least he keeps her company.

The thought of Lottie made her smile widen. She wished she could see them both.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened and smoothed the skirts of her pale blue morning dress. She shook the melancholy away. Today was not for longing.

Today, she would see Hyacinth.

Just the thought made her heart leap. Aurelia had received some letters earlier mentioning her friend’s stay at an exquisite inn that was a short walk from her husband’s Mayfair house. A coincidence had never pleased her so.

Hyacinth was life itself: dazzling laughter, bold wit, the kind of loyalty that could cut sharper than a blade when needed. Aurelia hadn’t met her precious gem since she got married.