Page 22 of Bound to the Heartless Duke (Regency Beasts #4)

L ily sat slumped in a velvet armchair by the window. It was her favorite place to think as the pale light cast a soft glow on her face.

Her hands rested in her lap, her fingers twisting the edge of a faded handkerchief. The gardens beyond the window, the distant chirp of birds, felt unbearably bright compared to the dull ache in her chest.

A knock on the door shattered the silence.

“Lily, you in there?” Nathan’s voice came through, sharp and impatient.

“Yes.” She lifted her head, already wondering what the matter was.

The door creaked open, and Nathan stepped inside.

He paused when he noticed the gloomy expression on her face.

“You look like you’re mourning yourself.

” He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes flashing with frustration.

“Anyway, I am still unhappy with how rudely you treated Ronald the last time you met. He hasn’t complained but I could tell you affronted him. .”

Lily didn’t bother to look up.

If she did, she would no doubt tell Nathan she didn’t care if Ronald was affronted.But right now, she didn’t care. She was tired of pretending to be all right with getting married to someone she didn’t love.

“You’re being ungrateful, you know.”

At those words, her jaded self embraced anger.

Her gaze snapped to her brother’s. “Ungrateful?” she echoed, her voice low. “Ungrateful for what? For being paraded around like a prize mare at some merchant’s stall?”

Nathan’s jaw tightened. “It’s a good match. You should be grateful I secured it, instead of sulking all day like a spoiled child.”

Her blood boiled at his words. For once, she couldn’t believe his audacity. It seemed like he had forgotten he was the one who had dragged them into this mess.

“Is that all I am to you? A prize to be won? Just like you traded the house in a gaming hell?!”

Nathan bristled, before stepping closer. “Don’t talk to me like that,” he warned, and she glared hard at him.

But before the tension could rise further, the door slammed open.

Lily twisted around to see Magnus standing in the doorway looking elegant in a crisp linen shirt tucked properly into dark trousers.

His boots shone froma good polishing and his hair was artfully styled.

He had forgone a cravat yet she couldn’t bring herself to disapprove.

He stepped into the room, his eyes flashing with cold authority.

“Nathan,” he said, his voice low but firm, “Summer has a letter for you.”

Nathan’s gaze flicked to him, and for a tense beat, none of them moved. But then he gave a disgruntled grunt, turned on his heel, and stalked out, making sure to slam the door shut behind him.

Once her brother was out, Lily let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, relief washing over her in slow waves.

Magnus turned to her, his expression unreadable.

“Are you well?” His tone was softer now, cautious.

She looked away, sinking back into her seat. “Do you think I can be after that?”

He stepped closer. “Tell me something, Lily. Do you truly want this marriage? This arrangement with Bailey?”

Her eyes snapped back to his, wide and fierce.

He ought to know better. He wasn’t supposed to ask, for he already knew the answer.

“No,” she forced out.

“Then don’t accept it.” His gaze sharpened.

Lily laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “Don’t accept it?” she scoffed. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to live with the consequences.”

Magnus took another step forward. “Don’t act like we didn’t discuss this. Don’t act like staying here with you is not a consequence of my gambling. I put you in this mess.”

She looked up at him, her expression almost softening at his words. But then she frowned.

“Don’t act like you are any different. You also see me as a prize. You asked me to marry you instead so you can seize the manor and me all at once.”

His eyes flickered with something. Was it hurt? Surprise? She couldn’t tell. But for once, that indifference that used to irk her vanished.

“You think so lowly of me?” he asked.

“Well, you make it sound so simple.” Her eyes flashed with frustration. “Now, I don’t know who is offering advice without an ulterior motive.”

He stepped closer, closing the gap between them. “I’m sure you do. You just insist on taking the wrong advice from Nathan.”

Her laugh was bitter, harsh. “You think I can just say no? Walk away from a marriage that secures my family’s future? That keeps a roof over my head? That stops Nathan from ruining everything? That stops you from owning the manor?”

Magnus’s jaw clenched. “This is not about the manor anymore.”

Her anger flared hot, and she stood up. “Well, easy for you to say, isn’t it?” She glared at him. “You don’t get to decide what it is about.”

He studied her face, the stubborn set of her jaw, the fierce glint in her eyes. “Of course not. But I’m telling you, you don’t have to accept this.”

Lily’s breath hitched, a mixture of anger and something far more complicated swirling inside her. “And if I refuse? What, then? What would you have me do, Magnus?”

He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering a moment too long. Instantly, her toes curled.

“I’d have you fight. Not just for yourself, but for the life you want.”

The room suddenly felt smaller, cramped, their breaths almost mingling.

But then Lily tore her gaze away. “Fight? I don’t even know where to start. You mean by getting married to you?”

“Refusing to be silent is all I ask. Like I say, my proposal has nothing to do with… whatever Nathan is trying to protect. I just need you to be honest with yourself.”

She locked eyes with him, searching his face. “And you?”

He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“What are you trying to protect by marrying me?” she whispered.

He stared at her for a second longer before finally replying, “Whatever we have between us.”

Her breath hitched, and she swallowed hard. Her heart began to pound in her chest.

Tell me what exactly you feel for me.

She was desperate for a confession from him. He should at least confess; that would push her to reject Mr. Bailey’s offer.

He always touched her how he wanted, proposed marriage to her, but he had never once told her he loved her.

That thought stirred her anger anew, and she turned back to the window.

“I would like to be left alone,” she declared.

Magnus fell silent for a moment. Eventually, he turned around and walked away. When the door closed behind him, Lily sank back into her chair, her hands trembling.

She had barely had a moment to think when the door slammed open again, the sound like a thunderclap against the fragile quiet she had been trying to rebuild.

She jerked her head up, her heart still pounding wildly in her chest, to see Magnus standing there, his eyes dark, stormy, and utterly relentless.

Before she could speak, before she could even think to brace herself, he stepped inside, shut the door with a firm click, and closed the distance between them with a few long strides.

His eyes locked onto hers, sharp and hungry, like he was trying to swallow her whole. And then, without warning, his hands grabbed her, strong and sure, and lifted her from the chair as if she weighed nothing.

“Magnus…” she breathed, before his mouth crashed into hers, stealing her breath with a fierce, claiming kiss.

Shock rippled through her, but it quickly melted into something deeper, something fierce and aching that had been lurking beneath the surface for far too long. She clung to him, her fingers tangling in his shirt as the kiss deepened, urgent and raw.

“I swear,” he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against her skin, “you drive me crazy, Lily. More than anything.”

She whimpered softly, caught between desire and frustration.

His hands slid down her back, pulling her impossibly closer.

“You’re infuriating,” he whispered against her lips. “But damn it, I can’t stop thinking about you. You’ve become my dangerous obsession.”

His words sent a shiver straight to her core.

His lips trailed down her jaw, to the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat, each kiss a slow fire that set her skin alight. His hands explored her with a possessiveness that made her shudder, tracing every curve, every inch of her as if committing her to memory.

The outside world ceased to exist. The garden, the locked doors, Nathan’s scorn, all vanished, save for the heat that pooled in her belly.

Magnus turned before gently lowering her onto the edge of the table. His hands steadied her as his eyes roamed over her face with an intensity that left her breathless.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded softly, his voice thick with lust. “Give me your brutal honesty, Lily. Tell me you want this, not whatever nonsense Bailey has offered you.”

Lily nodded without hesitation, her voice caught between a whisper and a sigh.

Magnus leaned in again, kissing a slow trail from her neck to the delicate curve of her collarbone. She arched into him, her breath hitching with every kiss.

His teeth caught in her blouse and lifted it, grazing her flesh briefly. Her fingers clenched around the edge of the table as her eyes watched him focus on the task he set about accomplishing. His teeth grazed her skin as he moved sending sparks of heat all the way down to her toes.

Lily didn’t know what stunned her more, the way her body still buzzed from his kiss or the fact that she wanted him to do it again.

When she looked up at him, something in his gaze shifted.

His hands were on her again, rougher now, one sliding to the back of her neck, the other gripping her thigh to hold her in place until her hips aligned with his.

His tongue swept across her lower lip again like he owned it, demanding, relentless, claiming.

She let out a low moan, and the sound only spurred him on. He fisted his hand in her skirts, dragging them over her hips until the cool air brushed her thighs.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” he breathed. “About your lips, your scent, the way your breath trembles right before you fall apart. And now I have you, right here.”

“In the drawing room…” she gasped.

It didn’t make sense, but when he knelt before her, she didn’t give a care.

His hands splayed across her thighs before pushing them wider, and without breaking eye contact, he hovered his mouth above her most intimate place, his breath warm and maddeningly slow.

“I want to taste you,” he rasped, shocking her. “I want to ruin you for other men.”

“Then do it,” she whispered, the words escaping her like a plea.

His lips curled into a wicked smirk before he lowered his head and placed a long, wet kiss on the inside of her thigh. Instinctively, her muscles twitched as he teased, kissed, and licked slow circles just shy of where she needed him most.

Her fingers curled tighter around the edge of the table, her knuckles white.

“Already trembling,” he whispered. “God, I haven’t even touched you yet, dear Lily.”

His vulgar words made her hips buck, not in protest but in need . No man had ever spoken to her like that. No man had ever dared. But coming from Magnus, with his warm breath, firm grip, and deliberate tongue, it made her ache.

He pulled her undergarments aside and pressed a kiss to her center, soft at first, then firmer, flatter, deeper. Her head fell back, her lips parting with a sharp gasp.

“Oh, Magnus?—”

“I love the way you say my name when I’m between your legs.”

His mouth worked her slowly at first, savoring her, dragging his tongue between her slick folds with unhurried accuracy. He used his thumbs to spread her wider, exposing every inch, and kissed her clit with a soft flick that made her shudder.

“You’re so wet for me,” he groaned against her. “Is this what you’ve been hiding under all that fire and defiance?”

She whimpered, her hands flying to his hair, tugging hard.

“Do it again,” she begged.

He chuckled low, a sinful sound, before obeying. His tongue flicked faster now, his lips sucking lightly as he worked her hard. Every lick, every flick of his tongue against her clit made her thighs quiver.

And when he moved one hand lower, slowly slid a finger into her, and curled it, she cried out.

“God!” she moaned, arching her back.

“You feel like heaven, Lily,” he growled. “Tight, hot, perfect. You were made to be worshipped.”

He worked her mercilessly, his tongue and fingers pumping into her until her hips bucked off the table. He wrapped an arm around her thigh to hold her in place, never letting up.

“Magnus…” she breathed when her legs started shaking.

“You’re close,” he murmured, before his hand moved to caress her breast. “Don’t fight it. I want to taste every drop when you fall apart for me.”

And she did.

Her release shot through her like lightning, her back bowing off the table, her hands fisting in his hair. Her thighs trembled violently, and her hips bucked against his mouth, which stayed locked to her, drinking in every drop of her pleasure.

Magnus didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he stayed between her thighs, his breath warm fanning her skin, as if savoring her. Then, slowly, deliberately, he rose to his feet, his eyes roaming over her helpless self.

Lily’s chest heaved. Her skin with slick with sweat, sensitive. And yet, somehow, she still wanted more.

Magnus reached down to cup her jaw and kissed her deeply. This kiss was slow and possessive, like he was claiming her all over again, letting her taste what he’d just taken.

His tongue moved against hers, and she moaned softly, her fingers reaching to cup his face.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” he murmured between kisses. “Not your mouth. Not your skin. Not the way you shatter when I touch you.”

Her breath caught. “Then don’t stop.”

He gave a smile, crooked and dangerous. Then, he lifted her from the table and moved to fix her skirt and corset.

“Not yet.” He held her eyes. “There are still some things we have to fix, Lily.”

“Things like what?” she whispered, yet to recover fully. “Bailey?”

He simply pressed a kiss to her lips, this time more tender.

He looked at her— really looked at her—his breath catching audibly.

“I’ll never forget this,” he vowed, his voice hoarse.

He kissed her one last time before turning around and walking away, leaving her confused, like he always did.

No confession, just a mind filled with possibilities.