Page 70 of Claiming his Cursed Duchess

There was no saving the nightgown. Adam, in his absolute desire for Rosaline, tore it off of her, the thin fabric giving way before his indomitable desire. Feeling the sudden chill of air touching her skin, Rosaline shivered and pressed closer to Adam, who picked her up and threw her onto the bed with a snarl.

In a flash, his trousers were off, and he was on top of Rosaline, caging her in against the bed with his arms and legs.

Rosaline stared, wide-eyed, up at Adam, his blue eyes wild with need for her, his dark hair framing his eyes, and felt her own lust coil within her. She slid her hands up his arms, onto his shoulders, trying to tug him down for a kiss.

The duke just smirked at her, not budging. “Beg,” he commanded.

Rosaline felt her core liquefy, and she whimpered. “Please.”

“Louder.” Adam snarled.

“Please!” Rosaline gasped, and he kissed her hard, his tongue forcing into her mouth and conquering its new domain.

She moaned into the kiss, clawing at Adam desperately to pull him closer, to have more of him.

Adam reached up and grabbed Rosaline’s wrists, pinning them to the bed above her head with one of his own, the other resting lightly against her collarbone at the base of her throat. Rosaline bucked against the pressure, wanting more, and Adam leaned into her, holding her down.

“You are mine.” Adam whispered roughly, and Rosaline felt his member stroking along her molten core, then slip inside, filling her almost beyond what she could take.

Rosaline bucked her hips against Adam, whining with a mix of pleasure and pain that nearly had her seeing stars.

“Hush.” Adam leaned more weight into the hand on Rosaline’s chest, and she froze, wide-eyed, obedient. “Take a moment to adjust.” He ordered.

He then leaned down and kissed Rosaline gently, beginning to stroke in and out of her with slow, gentle thrusts.

Rosaline strained against the hand pinning her wrists down, wanting to touch Adam, to run her hands through his hair, to drag him closer, faster, but his grip didn’t falter.

Suddenly, Adam’s hand slid from her chest to rest at her throat just below her jaw, and grip tightly enough that she gasped. She tilted her head back, arching her back as he slowly sheathed himself completely inside her.

“Look at me.” Adam commanded, his hand on Rosaline’s throat firmly forcing her to obey. “Good girl.”

And then Adam was slamming into her, hard and fast, making Rosaline scream in pleasure. She arched her back so much that she lifted off the mattress, and Adam squeezed her throat and wrists.

“Relax for me, take all of me.” His pace was frantic, almost vicious.

Rosaline relaxed beneath him, and felt the white-hot lightning coil at her core. She cried out as her entire body clenched and shuddered as she came undone.

Rosaline’s climax caused Adam’s, and she felt his hot release inside of her, filling her.

With his final strokes, he forced her to look at him again.

“You. Are.Mine.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Adam,” Rosaline began as she lay naked in his arms, her voice soft, “there’s something I…I need to tell you.”

He turned to her, his gaze intense. “Anything, my sweet. You can tell me anything.”

She took a deep breath, the memory of that fateful day washing over her like a chilling wave.

“It was a…a dreadful night,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “My mother, my brother Michael, and I had attended a ball. My cousin Genevieve’s family was in front of us, in their carriage, while my friend Sophia’s was behind us. The weather was…atrocious. A terrible storm had raged all afternoon.”

She paused, her eyes tracing the flames, the memory vivid in her mind.

“I can still hear the howling wind, the thunder…and Michael’s laughter. He was so…happy. He had recently become Earl of Claridge, and he was…he was so eager to prove himself.”

A wistful smile touched her lips. “He was always so…full of life. Always teasing me, always trying to make me laugh.”