Page 19 of Don’t Let Your Dukes Grow Up To Be Scoundrels (Dukes in Disguise #1)

Chapter Eighteen

They’d brought the hay in just in time, before the expected April showers arrived to turn the fields to bogs and rot the stalks. Hal had planned to spend the day helping one of the tenant farmers deliver the lambs from his pregnant ewes, but they’d all come at once, in the middle of the night, the little buggers, so Hal found himself out of work for the day.

Torrential rain halted many of the farm projects he routinely helped with on his lands; no one was building or thatching or sowing or reaping on a day like today. His tenants were likely snug in their cottages, working on repairs to machinery or clothing, the endless round of work and chores that kept life going on a small farm.

In his holland-cover-draped manor house, Hal sat alone by the fire and brooded until he was so sick of himself, he decided to brave the rain and pay a call on Bess.

Only to pass the time, he told himself. He wouldn’t venture past the kitchen, and he certainly wouldn’t seek Gemma out.

But when he’d glanced out a window to gauge exactly how soaked he was about to get, he’d seen a feminine form marching determinedly up the drive toward his house. A petite, sweetly curved feminine form he would know instantly, anywhere, in the dark and the light and in any kind of weather.

He’d rushed to throw open the front door and berate her for doing exactly what he’d been about to do, go out walking in the rain, but before he could…she was in his arms.

She should’ve been a cold, damp, clammy bundle but all Hal could feel was the blazing warmth of her nearness, the heat of her lips seeking his. And the mind-shattering relief of having her close for the first time in days.

Gemma pressed herself to him, soaking his front with her wet garments, and Hal gathered her up like a greedy dragon hoarding his gold. All he wanted was more.

Until a shiver wracked her frame. Hal tore his mouth away from hers.

“You little fool,” he said, entirely unable to help the tenderness in his voice. “You need to get out of those wet clothes or you’ll catch your death.”

Looking around the entry way, Gemma shivered again as she drew away from him slightly. “I don’t think being without clothing in here will help. How does it stay so chilly in this house when it’s been so warm outside?”

“Ghostly remnants of the cold hearts of the owners, I expect,” Hal said lightly, then added, “And I only light the fire in the kitchen. Come, let’s get you warm.”

He led her through the empty hallways around to the back of the house where the kitchen sat, cozy and bright and welcoming. It had always been his favorite room in this old place.

They didn’t converse along the way. In Hal’s case, because he was trying to calm his raging blood and settle his lust before he shoved her up against a wall and had her, threat of pneumonia be damned. And in Gemma’s, he presumed, because her teeth were chattering too vigorously to allow conversation.

As Hal’s ardor flickered down to a banked fire, his mind cleared and he was able to think again.

About the fact that she was here, and what that might mean. As well as the fact that he’d promised to stay away from her.

This sudden appearance of hers, complete with passionate kisses, was doing no favors to his ongoing attempts to reconcile himself to letting her go.

Let her go . What a joke. She was going. He had no choice in the matter. The best he could do would be to make that parting as simple and free of recrimination as possible, because she had done nothing wrong. She had been honest from the start about who she was and what she wanted.

While he…Hal locked it down.

This wasn’t about him. Gemma was here. She needed him.

By the time he’d installed her in the chair nearest the grate and stoked the fire until it blazed as cheerfully as if it were snowing outside, Hal had himself mostly under control.

He made a fuss of draping her with a voluminous quilt and turning his back so that she could disrobe under it. Made himself useful by putting the kettle on and gathering the tea things. Resolutely did not imagine what was happening behind him, only a few feet away, close enough to hear the whisper of fine fabric over soft skin.

Hal cleared his throat. “What brings you here, your ladyship? In the midst of a deluge, no less.”

“The earl has asked me to marry him.”

Hal’s hands paused in the act of pouring the tea. He set the pot down as carefully as he could. It took an effort of will to uncurl his fingers from the handle. “My felicitations. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

“Happiness.” The word sounded choked, almost like a sob, and Hal couldn’t resist any longer. He turned to face her.

Gemma stood before the grate clad in nothing but firelight, her wet gown and underthings discarded upon the chair. Her wavy hair, inky black with damp, had come loose from its moorings and trailed over one shoulder to cascade over her breast, the ends curling over the dusky pink tip.

She was decadently round, all generous curves and softly luminous skin gilded by the flickering light from the flames. She made no move to cover herself, and Hal’s gaze devoured her in an instant, snagging on the thatch of dark curls at the juncture of her smooth thighs. His entire body came to attention while his mind was wiped clean of all rational thought.

“Do you know what would make me happy?” Gemma’s lovely mouth trembled, but her voice was steady. “To be in your arms tonight.”

Tonight. The word penetrated the fog of desire clouding Hal’s brain. One last night together, and then…she would leave his bed and walk into the arms of another man.

The pain of it was crippling, unthinkable—but even more impossible was the idea that he would let her walk out of his life right now, giving up this one chance to be together.

A single night. Then he’d do the noble thing, say goodbye, and send her back to the life she wanted.

His conscience kicked at him—was it right to do this, with Gemma still unaware of his true identity?—but it was easily crushed under the clamor of ravenous wanting that inhabited every limb.

Nothing good could come of telling her now, and soon she would be gone. She never needed to know. He could give her pleasure and take nothing for himself. Surely that would be alright.

Without another thought, Hal crossed the space between them and took Gemma’s lovely face in his hands to angle her mouth up for a kiss. The brush of her nakedness against his clothed front was the most erotic sensation he’d ever experienced.

Until he felt Gemma’s small, determined hands questing lower and lower down his body, searching for the hem of his shirt to slide underneath until they were skin to skin.

He broke the kiss only long enough to haul the shirt over his head and throw it on the floor.

“Take everything off,” Gemma demanded, her hands sweeping up and down his back as if she couldn’t get enough of the feel of him beneath her fingertips.

He knew how she felt. Hal rested his hands on her shoulders, then drew them down her arms and around to caress her back, the wings of her shoulder blades, the sweet, silken dip of her waist before the flare of her hips. He was dizzy, almost drunk, intoxicated by her.

But she’d said something. Right. It took a bit of coordination to remove his trousers without pulling away from her, but he managed it. They joined his shirt and the fluffy quilt he’d brought as her modesty shield on the floor, a nest soft enough to cushion them as he laid her down before the crackling fire.

One night. That was all he had. The thought swirled through Hal’s brain, paralyzing him with the abundance of choices and the lack of time to see them all through.

He wanted everything with this woman, a lifetime wouldn’t be enough—but all he had was tonight.

So he would make it count.

With meticulous attention to detail, Hal covered every inch of Gemma’s satiny skin with kisses.

Long, lush, open-mouthed kisses for the insides of her elbows and the backs of her knees; kisses with an edge of teeth for the bend of her neck, the quivering globes of her bottom; deep suckling kisses for her taut little nipples. Her breasts filled his hands, satiny smooth and heavy, perfectly round. He never wanted to stop touching her.

His mind was on fire. His body existed only to bring hers pleasure. He lost himself in the glory of her body and found himself in the sharpness of her sighs and the sweetness of her moans.

When the urgency of her cries increased, reaching a feverish pitch, he gave himself the treat he’d been saving. Nudging her thighs apart with his shoulders, he took a slow, savoring lick from her weeping center to the tight bud of passion nestled in its hood of flesh.

Her body bowed upward, so damned responsive, but Hal was ready. He clamped a steadying arm across the soft roundness of her stomach and took another lick. Silken folds parted under his tongue and the rich, heady flavor of her passion flooded his mouth. Time fell away from Hal as he dipped his head and concentrated on the tidy knot of nerves that he knew would bring Gemma to her climax.

He relished every moment of what was happening and did his best to commit it to memory. The way Gemma’s heels drummed against his back, digging in whenever he did something she especially liked. The arch of her spine, lifting off the blanket, graceful and unselfconscious as a cat stretching in a patch of sunlight. The ache of his cock against the hard wooden floor. The smell of her, the taste, briny and musky and slippery as everything got wetter and wetter until finally, she stiffened and all but tore his head away from as she convulsed with a shout.

Hal ran a hand over the wetness on his beard and felt an intense satisfaction at total odds with the rampant erection still straining for attention.

Gemma, whose head had dropped back into the blankets as she panted her way through her climax, lifted herself up on her elbows to give Hal a scorching look he knew he would have no trouble remembering for the rest of his life.

“Get up here,” she commanded, her voice raw and raspy from the volume of her cries in the midst of passion, and Hal wasted no time obeying her. He surged forward to kiss her, giving her the taste of herself on his lips. He’d been with women who didn’t like that or were embarrassed by it, but not his daring, dashing Gemma—she made ravenous noises and delved into his mouth as though she wanted to get inside him somehow.

Their bodies slotted together, her legs falling open naturally to cradle his hips, and Hal gritted his teeth against the urge to simply thrust into her. The iron bar of his prick found the damp, hot crease where her thigh joined her pelvis and he groaned like he was dying.

His hips worked, the sweet friction driving him mad. The way she lifted her legs and crossed her ankles behind his arse changed the angle of his driving motion and gave him more tightness and pressure. Sparks dazzled behind his closed eyelids.

Gemma mumbled something into his mouth, then broke away with a gasp to repeat it.

“Inside me. Now.”

Shaking his head, Hal reared back. That was the one thing he’d promised himself he would not do. He would not send her to another man needing to explain why her husband was not her first lover.

And he would be her first, Hal knew, despite her sultry looks and bold claims about what London girls knew how to do in the dark. Whatever she had done in the past, it wasn’t this.

But Gemma was not to be denied. “I want it. I want you that way, Hal. No matter what happens after. Please.”

His beautiful, brazen, bold Gemma—begging. Hal couldn’t stand it. He loomed over her, his stare roving over her features, taking in the bright eyes, the pink cheeks, the stubborn tilt of her adorably dimpled chin. He brushed the waves of her hair back from her forehead. He could deny her nothing.

But he had to take care of her. If this was to be their last night together, Hal wanted it to be perfect for her.

No pain. No shame. No regrets. Only pleasure.

Rolling them over so that he was on the bottom, Hal pulled her over him like a sexy, squirming blanket. Clasping the ripe curve of her hips, he lifted her to her knees, poised over his straining erection.

The sight of her, rising over him like a goddess emerging from the sea, make his cock throb and weep.

Her face flushed and she caught her plush lower lip in her teeth. Tendrils of hair clung damply to her temples, and Hal nearly expired when she lifted her arms to coil the heavy mass of her hair and lift it away from the back of her neck. The move put her glorious breasts on full display, the berry-pink nipples taunting him mercilessly.

She shifted above him, hips moving restlessly, and the tip of his penis brushed the crisp dark curls, damp with her body’s passionate response. Hal’s hands tightened, but he forced himself to relax his grip.

He couldn’t leave a mark on her. No matter how much he wished to.

One last night. That was all they had.

“Do something,” Gemma panted, her straight, dark brows drawn together in concentration.

Blowing out a steadying breath, Hal grinned up at her. “Ah no, love. You’re going to do it. Take what you want, exactly how you want it.”

Understanding cleared her eyes and smoothed the worry from her forehead. If he’d thought she might prove too shy or reluctant to take control, the way she smiled eased his mind.

This will be better for her , he thought as she lowered her hips just enough to feel the domed head of his erection notched at her entrance. She can go at her own pace and easily stop if it becomes too much, or if she changes her mind. All I need do is lie still and let her manage it.

Of course, Gemma never did exactly what Hal expected.

In the next instant, before he could take another breath, she sank down on him in one smooth movement, crushing him in tight, velvety heat.

Hal’s body reacted without his conscious control, jackknifing upward so he could envelop her in his arms.

Sitting in a welter of blankets with Gemma in his lap, slim legs crossed behind him and impaled on his prick, Hal breathed through his mouth and searched her beautiful features for signs of pain. But there were none.

Her heavy-lidded eyes were dark with desire, the blue nearly swallowed up by the black of her pupil. Her lips parted on a gasp that he felt in every part of his body.

Their faces were only inches apart, close enough to share one another’s breath. He couldn’t resist claiming another kiss, their mouths mating as their chests heaved together, arms wound around necks and shoulders, and as one, they began to move.

Hal tried to keep it slow and easy, to let her adjust, to make it last, but they were locked together too tightly. He was lodged inside her so deeply that every minute shift of their hips sent sensation racing through him.

He got his hands on the split peach of her arse and lifted her until their bodies almost separated, then let gravity drag her down the length of him once more.

Then he did it again. And again.

Gemma whimpered with every near-withdrawal, her body clenching and fighting him every inch of the way, and cried out with every drop back down as he filled her again. Her head bent to his shoulder, mouth open and sucking kisses into the meat of the muscle, sending shocks all through Hal. Everything felt so good. He couldn’t last.

But he had to last. He had to make sure she felt every bit of the pleasure she deserved and he only had one night in which to show her.

On the next drop, he clasped her tight against him. The weight of her body wedged him even further inside her, making them both groan.

He set his jaw and started up a deep rhythmic grind against the tight bud at the top of her sex that sent Gemma into shuddering, writhing paroxysms of bliss. Her cries rose in volume and intensity until she peaked, her sheath fluttering around him and nearly pulling him over the top with her.

While she was still panting and clenching around him, Hal managed to roll her onto her back without leaving the strangling heat of her body.

Gemma relaxed under him with a sleepy smile, her hands coming up to stroke the sides of his throat down to his shoulders, over the delicious soreness of the spot she’d worried with her sharp little white teeth.

“Mmm. That was wonderful,” she purred.

“There’s more,” he rasped, “If you want it.”

“You know me.” She licked her lips, not bothering to hide the hunger in her eyes. “I always want more.”

God, she made him feral. Hal bared his teeth and slipped an arm under one of her sweetly rounded thighs, crooking her knee over his elbow and opening up her body.

The shift allowed him into the very core of her with sharp, almost punishing thrusts that he knew, by the way she knitted her brow and clutched greedily at his shoulders, were what she needed now.

He needed it too, God, he needed her. His mind was going, buried under an avalanche of feeling. Hal was nothing but body now, the pounding, pulsing beat of his blood taking over everything as they moved together.

“Hal!” Gemma choked out, a wild thing in his arms, untamable and perfect in her pure, instinctual responsiveness. Her body froze while internally, he felt the contractions of her sex massaging his length and demanding his seed.

With a harsh cry, Hal pulled out and released his passion on the blanket. He collapsed beside Gemma and gathered her into his arms, utterly spent.