Page 17 of Claimed by Her Forbidden Duke (Forbidden Lords #6)

Chapter Seventeen

A s soon as Edmund’s mouth claimed hers once again, she let herself fall into it. With his fingers gripping her hips, pinning her to the table, Penelope knew that falling apart was all right. She could have this—this dizzying spiral of desire, no matter how far it went tonight.

And as he kissed her deeply, making a rough noise in his throat as if he finally let go of a rigid part of himself that he kept restrained, she told herself that she would be fine if this was a simple one-night thing. She didn’t let herself think of how it tasted like a lie.

“Penelope.”

Edmund’s voice was rougher than she’d ever heard it as his teeth scraped her lower lip,as his mouth caught hers over and over in a sweep of passion. He kissed her like he had been deprived of air and she was a ready source of it. He kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her, all the while his hands slipped up her parted legs, cupping her knees so he could pull them around his waist once he lifted her onto the table.

“Wait,” she gasped, turning from his blistering kisses. “I—the table… I am—” He continued kissing down her neck, distracting her. “It will crack?—”

“The table is more than sturdy enough,” he told her dismissively. “Besides,” he continued in a low murmur, “when I fully claim you, it will not be on the edge of the dining table. I will have you splayed out in a bed, where you will be comfortable. Where I will have you writhing and clutching the sheets, or your face pressed to a pillow in desire. I will claim you over every surface of this house, given ample time to do so.”

The room spun around her as Edmund’s hands eagerly tore at her dress, loosening the fastening without ruining the fabric. But his impatience was there in every tug of lace, string, and ruffle, until eventually the sleeves slid off her shoulders and she was bare, in her corset, the dress pooling at her waist.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, standing back, still between her parted legs.

She bumped himaccidentally with her knee, brushing the erection contained within his breeches. Heavens, he felt large. Shivers ran through her, making her hands tremble as she paused with her fingers curled into the waistband of his breeches.

Eyes wide, she splayed her palm over the bulge, her breath leaving her in an unsteady exhale. Her eyes met his as she stroked him through the material.

“I am inexperienced,” she whispered.

“I will guide you,” he promised. “But it is not my pleasure that is at the forefront of my mindright now.”

Despite that, his hips still ground into her hand. She was clumsy with the lack of knowledge of how to touch a man, but she relished the shudder that ran through him. He pushed closer against her, his teeth scraping along her neck.

“It is all right to be nervous,” he told her, kissing the line of her jaw softly. “I will take care of you. You are safe with me, Penelope.”

Despite how the ton said he was utterly unsafe, Penelope believed him. Feeling half ruined already, she let him take her hand and lead her out of the dining room, into the darkened hallway, and upstairs, leaving her dress in a careless heap on the floor. She ought to get it, but she could not care. Not when he held her gaze, leading her to a room he pushed their way into.

As soon as they entered the bedchamber, his mouthwas back on hers with a fierceness that coaxed every bit of oxygen from her lungs. Her back was pressed against the door, the rough wood digging into her shoulder blades, and the Duke’s hand disappeared between her legs.

He licked along her collarbone, kissing the curve of her shoulder. “Have you touched yourself since I had my fingers inside you?”

“ Edmund ,” she moaned, the obscenity of the question making her hands shake.

Penelope was sowarm, so heated beneath his touch and attention.

“Well, have you?”

He distracted her again with a kiss right at the top of her décolletage, his tongue working its waydown the valley between her breasts. He grunted as his fingers dug into her corset as if it were a mere barrier. He began to unfasten it, tugging it off her.

But she noticed how he stepped back from her as he unfastened it, a smirk on his face. “If you want to be touched, you will answer my questions.”

Heat flooded Penelope’s face, but her voice was long gone, lost to the burn of his touch and the sensuality of how he looked at her, spoke to her.

“Shall I tell you first, then?” he asked, tugging at his cravat, dropping it as carelessly as she haddropped her dress. “I have. As soon as I returned from the opera, I did. After our moment in the library, I did. After every moment I have seen you since I first kissed you, and you have made me ache with need, I have given in to my need for you, waiting for the moment release finally came from your body. So, if it is shame that stops you from admitting it, then leave it at the door, for shame has no place alongside intimacy. Not with me.”

His boldness made her tremble.

Moments later, after Penelope swallowed hard, she finally nodded and whispered, “I have, and it was not enough to sate me. Not after…” She blushed hard.

Edmund smiled at her, casual and indulgent. “Not after I had made you climax?”

Penelope held his gaze, wetting her lips. His attention was drawn to the movement. “Exactly,” she told him.

He gazed at her for another long moment, slowly pulled one of her legs up around his waist, and then the other, until she was seated against the door. He held her as though she weighed little more than a piece of fabric, his broad frame easily handling her in a way she had never imagined.

Finally, he got her corset off and released the crushing hold it had on her breasts.

She made to cover up, but Edmund ground his hips against hers and held her with one arm around her waist while he used the other to pin her wrists above her head.

He lowered his face to hers, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “Do not cover up when I am trying to look at you.”

Slowly, she relaxed beneath his gaze, letting herself recognize the desire in his eyes. Even if she did not believe it, she could see it, and that was enough.

He gave her a sharp look as he released her wrists, the silent warning still ringing. And as much as she itched to cover her breasts, to place a hand between her thighs to conceal herself, she obeyed.

His fingers worked into her hair, loosening it from the pins and style that she had her lady’s maid do for her earlier that day under the guise of dinner with Finley. The blonde waves fell over her shoulders in a way that she didn’t usually think looked pretty, but Edmund looked at her as though he was viewing the most beautiful painting.

He swallowed, taking his time to drink in every little bit of her.

“It is not fair,” she managed to say. “I am the only one naked. Does it please you to have me so bare yet you remain covered?”

“Perhaps,” he teased. “Perhaps I can see how sensitive it makes you to brush your bare skin against my clothing. Perhaps you will ruin the fine fabric with your release before dawn peeks its head, and I will go home knowing that you have left your mark on my possessions.”

“As enthralling as that sounds,” she breathed, “I want to see you as much as you want to keep seeing me.”

His eyes darkened as he caught her mouth in a brief, teasing kiss. “Be patient, dear Penelope.”

And then she was pulled away from the door, nothing supporting her but his hands, and she swooned at the casual display of strength before her back met the mattress. Silk black sheets welcomed her as the dark Duke stood over her, gazing upon her naked body. He stood between her legs and smirked when she lifted her hips to press right against his erection. She gasped at how it felt against her most intimate part.

“Do not worry,” he told her, trailing his knuckles down her stomach, stopping just above her hips. “I will lavish you in every greedy, little desire you have, but first I just want to look, to taste, to touch .”

And he did. He knelt between her legs, pulling her backside so it was on the edge of the bed. Her breath fluttered out of her, her hair draped over the sheets. It felt fitting—a dark room, sensually silken sheets feeling luxurious against her skin—and yet the Duke of Blackstone kneeled to her .

“Dukes do not kneel for many people, Penelope, but I will kneel to you. Where do you want me, Penelope?” he asked.

But before she could answer, he held her gaze as he kissed right over her heat. She would have cried out if not for him doing it again, and making her utterly wordless. Her mind emptied at the vulgar gesture, yet his eyes still held hers as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I want you right where you are,” she moaned, remembering his other warning of not touching her if she did not answer. “Please, do not move.”

“Oh?” he murmured, his breath fanning her heat. “So I shall not move, even if you beg for me to enter you? I promised you much more than what I gave you in the library, no?”

She could see that as he kissed her heat over and over, distracting her, sending her mind spinning, the caress of his mouth in a place she had never imagined one’s mouth might ever go, his arm was moving. She heard the rustle of fabric.

“So I shall not move, not even to bare myself as you requested?”

“You tease me.” She laughed through a gasp as he switched from mere kisses to harder attention.

He touched the very tip of her heat, the part his fingers had nimbly, knowingly toyed with in the library, and drew it between his lips. It was lewd and vulgar, and yet Penelope could not help but weave her fingers through his hair.

At that, he stiffened. Her breath caught, and she made to pull back, but he looked up at her through dark, lowered lashes. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed once more as he kept eye contact and delved into her with his tongue. Penelope couldn’t linger on what had caught him off-guard about her fingers in his hair, but he didn’t make a move to remove her hands.

Instead, he feasted on her.

For Penelope, who had never even let herself dream of such things, sweet oblivion encased every thought, every nerve, every limb. A slow, syrupy feeling settled into her body, and she gave in to it. Every point of contact grounded her—Edmund’s hands holding her thighs apart, his silky, dark hair between her fingers, and the warm, wet tongue that wrought pleasure on her core.

The room filled with her moans, as she was unable to hold them back, not when he used his mouth in such a way. Her cheeks burned, and when a knot tightened in her chest, blooming lower, she tightened her hold on him. She was about to spiral back into that delightful place he had brought her to in the library. She was about to?—

Edmund pulled back with a wicked grin, and although a protest died on her lips as he began to kiss his way up her body, the shivers that ran through her from the disrupted pleasure made her feel somehow better.

“Forgive me for being greedy,” he murmured into her mouth, kissing her lower lip tenderly. “But I wished for us to claim pleasure together. The night is long, but I fear I will get so lost in you that I will lose track of time. So before that happens, I want to ensure that you experience everything you want to before you tire.”

“Let us not speak of parting,” she desperately pleaded, pulling him to her.

“Let us not,” he agreed.

He kissed his way down her neck, almost animalistic with the way he chased every inch of her body with his mouth.

“I will never hear you speak another terrible word about yourself. You are stunning, Penelope Clarkin.”

Her full name on his lips made her ache all the more. Pushing his kisses off, needing to see more of him, she began to rake her hands over the front of his shirt. Smirking down at her, Edmund rid himself of his shirt, yanking it off with the same roughness he had treated her dress with.

“I will buy you a thousand dresses if it will get you to believe me,” he muttered in another kiss, and she giggled.

She parted her legs as far as they would go, and she flushed as he dragged his gaze down the length of her body. As he undressed, she did the same, not even caring to hide her attraction. He would read it even if she tried to hide it.

Tanned skin stretched taut over broad shoulders. Arms corded with muscles led down to his ridged abdomen. He had a slimmer waist, toned, which led to narrow hips.

Penelope swallowed. She had never seen anything like it except in paintings. What had he done to have such a form?

Edmund had a few dark freckles here and there, small black marks that she immediately wanted to kiss. Among them were scars. So many of them that she gasped, unable to look away. Thin, knife-like wounds, bullets, burns. They painted his skin, but they were not unsightly. If anything, she wanted to trace them with her mouth.

Despite being on the curvier side, Penelope felt dwarfed by his sheer size as she took in the thickness of his thighs. And there, stiff between those thighs, his length was as proportionate as the rest of his body.

“Heavens,” she whispered, momentarily embarrassed by her lack of elocution.

Edmund laughed breathily, the sound dangerously attractive. “Yes?”

You are large .

She did not say that out loud, but she had a hard time lifting her eyes back to his face.

“I…” She let out a quiet, nervous laugh. “I do not know where that is meant to go. No, I do , of course. I know the ways of intimacy, but…” She glanced down, jitters flitting through her. “I do not know how you think it will fit.”

“You compliment me well,” he told her, leaning down to kiss away her further mumbles about his ridiculously handsome body and how he indeed looked as though he belonged in a painting. Something Grecian. Something heroic. “And if I belong in a painting, my fair Penelope, you belong right alongside me. You are luscious, and I wish to map every curve of your body. Every dip you possess and every ridge will not go untouched. I will lick my way along every valley of your skin, every inch of you that I can get my hands and mouth on.”

His body rolled against hers, and she felt the full length of him grazing her core, slotting them together without entering her. Still, her breath caught at the promise.

“By the time I am done with you,” he continued in that low, velvety voice, “there will not be a part of you that does glisten with the remnants of worship.”

As if to make his point, he moved down her body to kiss one erect nipple and then the other, swiping his tongue around it to make it glisten beneath the low light. But as he distracted her with such a lewd kiss, he pressed the tip of his length to her entrance.

At the first press, the kisses on her breasts were not quite enough to distract her from how it felt. But Edmund kept his eyes on her, his palm sliding down her stomach to intertwine their fingers lest she need something to anchor herself. At least that was what Penelope told herself. It was not an act of affection. It could not be, surely.

But her contemplation was quickly snatched away, replaced by nothing but mind-numbing, blissful pleasure. Her breath left her in choked-off gasps, the desperation pouring from her mouth in needy sounds. Edmund’s fingers tightened around hers as he slid in deeper.

“I got you,” he told her.

She didn’t realize how much she needed to hear such a thing.

Passion sparked inside her, rolling through her body in high waves. Edmund was a riptide, and Penelope had flung herself knowingly into those waters with a smile. He caught her smile and leaned down to kiss it, to lick it right into parting on another moan as he finally sheathed himself in her fully.

With no more depth to find within her, Edmund exhaled, his eyes fluttering closed.

The muscles in his back tightened. Penelope moved her hand to his shoulder, marveling at the tautness. One day, she would find out what had honed such a body.

“Edmund,” she whispered.

Those eyes opened, gray steel piercing through her. His pupils were dilated, and all she saw in them was pure, unhinged desire. Not for the first time, she wondered how often and for how long he had thought of her— wanted her—like this.

“Please move.”

He blinked away the vulnerable arousal, the way he looked as though he had finally quenched a thirst after so long of being parched, and that smirk was back.

“As My Lady wishes.”

She didn’t get a chance to think anything or to brace herself as he pulled out of her. And then, inch by inch, he filled her once again.

A broken moan escaped her, and it only made Edmund’s thrusts stutter as he settled into a gentle, steady rhythm. His hips rocked against hers, and Penelope could scarcely breathe or think—could do nothing but simply feel . She was overwhelmed as he thrust into her over and over.

It was not that she had not expected care from him—it was more that she hadn’t expected it to be so… attentive.

Penelope could only hold onto him, and he didn’t balk at how tightly she did so. No, he simply gave her everything and took all she had. Her breath fluttered from her parted lips. She was aware of their bodies moving in tandem.

She twisted towards his thrusts, greedy for more. When he pulled out, she followed, not wanting to part from him for long. The pleasure made her lose herself. All she knew was Edmund, and his name came in a steady, broken mantra.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his voice breaking alongside hers.

His face was pressed into her neck, mouthing along wherever he could. The feel of his tongue on her heated skin only made her lose herself further. She clawed at his back lightly, needing to tether herself so she did not fly away from herself or the moment.

The sheer size of him against her, looming over her, made her feel utterly safe, and for a brief moment, she realized why ladies swooned against Grecian statues. She felt like somebody could make one of them in this moment, have it encased fore?—

The thought was struck from her mind with the next thrust. Edmund took her like he meant it—not careless, hard rutting like she had feared for her first time with a man when she began to realize what this was. But this wasn’t anything she had heard about before. No, this… this was not just a means to a physical conclusion.

This was the journey itself, the languidness of coupling. The passion sparking between them could be felt, and she trailed her fingertips down his back as far as she could reach. She felt every tense muscle, every inch of him inside her and over her, and she knew this was not something that many people got to experience.

Her breathing quickened as she held on to him tightly. A great swell of a wave was rising inside her, and she was scared of it. She knew it was the same wave he had almost brought her to moments ago—the one he had properly brought her to in the library. A wave she herself had dived into through the secret hours of the night. But for him to bring her to that edge so intimately…

“Edmund,” she whispered, her voice broken and breathless. “Edmund, I-I do not want you to stop, but I fear this… this pleasure will rend me apart.”

He smiled down at her. “So let it, and know that I will catch every piece.” He sped up his thrusts. “Let me be the one to bring you there, Penelope. Let me claim your pleasure in such a way. Let me claim you .”

Penelope quivered at the desperation in his voice, the way his breathing quickened as he chased their pleasure together. He moved his hand to her right hip, pulling her up to him so her back bowed off the bed, and the new angle had her gasping.

“Please,” she moaned. “Please do not stop.”

“I would never.” His promise came in a growl as he thrust into her with everything he had, and she took it, basked in the roughness. “Let yourself go, Penelope. Climax.”

The command itself did not make her come, but the safety in his promises had her tipping over the edge as his length slid into her one more time. And then she felt that wave drown her utterly, and she was sinking, smiling, perhaps laughing, but his name poured from her lips in sheer ecstasy.

For a moment, she floated out of her body, from the bed, as her back arched harder. Her nipples brushed his chest, the sensitivity making her gasp. She was aware of him thrusting into her shallowly, of the slight flush on his cheeks as he gripped his length.

And then Penelope was empty, her thighs aching, and Edmund’s fist moved over his erection. Gasping through the aftershocks of her climax, she watched as he reached his own, and realized why he had pulled out of her.

Edmund’s face tensed in pleasure, his mouth falling open, his eyes still on her until the last moment, when his climax swept them shut for a moment as he spilled. And then he was still, and the only sounds in the room were their harsh pants as Edmund slowly opened his eyes to look at her once more.

“Lie with me for a moment,” he murmured.

Now that her pleasure was ebbing, Penelope realized how long she had been there, in the escort’s house, with Edmund. Her eyes flicked to the window. It was still dark outside.

“We have time.”

The assurance came as if Edmund knew she worried. Of course, he would be mindful of that. Even as he gazed at her with longing in his eyes, as if he would happily take her again.

He repeated his request. “Lie with me.”

So she did, and she shivered when his warm body pressed to hers, his arms coming around her.

“I have heard stories of men who simply do what they do and then leave their lady in the bed as they go about their day. Business as usual.”

Her voice sounded hoarse from her cries and moans, and when Edmund didn’t answer her, she turned to face him. His face was twisted into a frown as he shook his head.

“I do not agree with those men. Coupling like this can be… intense, no? One must collect themselves. I did not like leaving you that evening in the library after I pleasured you.”

“I did not like leaving either.” The confession slipped free in a whisper. “I felt very shaky afterward, with little time to collect myself as I truly wished.”

“Then take it now.” His voice was quiet, although the suggestion was clear. It was clear enough as well that he would certainly take it. “I do not plan to move for a short while, and Julian will not be back until breakfast.”

The thought of the next morning made Penelope feel slightly ill. She pushed the thought away, for she had only one evening with Edmund and she should not suddenly expect him to whisk her away from Finley’s control. No, she would have to go back to her brother, and the reality of that shattering the peaceful, honey-like feel of this room, this moment, made her stomach clench with unease.

“I wish I did not have to go back,” she murmured.

“We can always return here whenever you wish.”

Penelope froze, her eyes searching Edmund’s face, but he was frustratingly impassive, save for his amused, small smile.

“What?” he asked. “You did not think I would bed you and discard you, did you?”

Yes . Although I hoped that was not the case.

He looked mildly offended as he turned to her better. She could not help but notice how the muscles in his chest and arms flexed.

“Penelope, I would like to see you again. In this manner.”

It is just a physical release , she told herself. There will be no conflict over an official courtship, and you have yearned to know pleasure. Who needs love? Who needs more than a body to tangle in luscious sheets with ?

“If that is not agreeable?—”

“It is more than agreeable,” she said quickly. “I would… I would like to meet like this again.”

“Then I will arrange it in a similar way to how I did tonight. Is that too short notice?”

She shook her head. “May I ask you too?”

“You may.” His lips twitched. Not quite a smile, but more like he was suppressing one. “Although I imagine I will be the one tugging you back into this room, for I do not think I can wait very long for this to happen again.”

“Who says we will have to wait?”

Penelope found herself becoming more courageous, especially seeing how undone Edmund seemed to become in the heat of his pleasure. She trailed her fingers up the hard muscles of his chest, swirling her fingertip over his heated skin in a way that made him swallow.

He grabbed her wrist, pushing her onto her back when she had begun to lean up on her elbow. “Who says, indeed?”

And then he was over her again, his hand keeping her wrists pinned to the pillow in a way that made a thrill rush through her.

She was at his mercy, and she wished to be for a very long time. Long enough that she forgot about leaving and the thought of her brother finding out.

She let Edmund kiss down her body, let him lick away every doubt and worry, and when her chest heaved with another release, she barely had a moment to catch her breath, for he thrust into her welcoming heat once more.