Page 32 of Duke with a Lie (Wicked Dukes Society #4)

He feasted on her, licking and sucking, fucking her with his tongue, nibbling at her pearl.

He lost himself to the velvet heat of her, to the breathy sounds she emitted somewhere above him, to the rolling of her hips as she urged him on.

This was what he could give her, lessons in pleasure and naught else.

He traded in desire alone, for he had seen firsthand the pain and destruction that love caused.

He had vowed he would never visit that upon another.

When he had Rhiannon at the edge, he stopped, lifting his head. He kissed her inner thigh, mesmerized by how beautiful she was, her hair tangled around her head, creamy skin flushed.

“Why did you stop?” she asked, her breaths ragged, eyes glazed.

“Because I haven’t a modicum of compunction, and I want to be inside you when you come.” He shifted her and then rolled her to her stomach. “Get on your knees for me, sweet.”

“Is this another lesson?” The saucy minx wanted to know.

He bit one soft, fleshy cheek lightly. “Do as I ask.”

She turned her head on the pillow, a tendril of golden hair on her cheek. “Or?”

Aubrey traced a lone finger lightly down her slick seam from behind. “Or I won’t let you come.”

She pouted. “That isn’t fair.”

He teased her entrance with a light graze, making her writhe. “You see? I’m not a good man. I want you to beg me.”

“Aubrey.”

“On your knees.”

She rose onto her knees, her gorgeous arse in the air, her cunny on full display. He kissed her there, running his tongue through her folds until she was quivering beneath him. And then he stopped again.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to admit that you have a heart,” she protested, tenacious to the last, even as her body was all but weeping to be claimed.

He licked into her. “Never.”

She made a frustrated sound.

“There is only one thing I can give you, minx. I can give it to you so well.” He dragged his mouth higher, wanting to shock her, needing to claim every part of her with a ferocity that would frighten him if he took the time to study it.

He licked from her entrance then higher, toying with the rosebud of her back entrance, using his tongue on her until she gasped.

“What are you… That is…”

“Wicked.” God, the things he could teach her. Show to her. Do to her. If only he had the time. But he was also painfully aware she was still a neophyte and they had a fleeting number of days left. “I’m a very bad man. I did try to warn you. You should have stayed away.”

To emphasize his point, he slid his hand under her, his finger unerringly finding her clitoris. She bucked beneath him, closer than ever to coming. He worked her for a few moments before retreating.

“But you didn’t listen, did you? I told you that you didn’t belong here, and now look at what you’ve done.”

“Please,” she said, her voice throaty, steeped in need. “Take me.”

He gripped his cock and ran himself through her folds. “I want to hear filthy words from that pretty mouth.”

He added just enough pressure to tantalize them both, his cockhead kissed by her silken heat, but he didn’t penetrate her. Not yet. Damn. He was so randy that he was about to spend, and he hadn’t even been inside her yet.

“Fuck me, Aubrey,” she begged, arching into his touch. “I need you.”

The words were like a bolt of lightning straight through him. He sank inside her with one hasty thrust. She came almost instantly, her cunny squeezing him so tightly he had to clench his jaw to keep from losing control.

Gripping her hips, he pushed into her again and again, as the liquid heat of her spend rushed down his cock and she surrendered to him completely.

He fucked her harder, faster, watching his cock slide in and out of her pretty pink pussy, looking at how well she took him, as if her body had been made for his.

God, it was so good. She was so good, so right for him.

He couldn’t look away, even as he tried to stave off his impending orgasm.

Her pale back, lush bottom, the elegant column of her neck, her cheeks flushed.

Fuck, this woman was dangerous to his mortal soul.

And as he reached his own climax and spent all over the sheets at her side, he couldn’t be sure which of them had emerged from this particular battle the victor. He had intended to prove to her just how heartless he was, but he had managed to prove his utter, abject inability to resist her instead.

Rhiannon was not the only one of them who had surrendered.

Rhiannon was deliriously, ridiculously happy.

Happier than she had ever imagined possible.

It was a guarded happiness, but as she finished breakfast with Aubrey in the small, cozy kitchen of the cottage, she was sure she couldn’t keep it from her expression.

She was so desperately in love with him.

Not even his continued insistence that he was a heartless, conscienceless villain could quell her unabashed bliss. She suspected that nothing could.

“How is your tea?” Aubrey asked as she sipped from her cup.

His dark mood of earlier that morning had improved now that he had broken his fast. Perhaps he believed he had proved his point to her and that she was firmly of the opinion he was irredeemable. If so, he was wrong.

He was a good man. The man she loved. The man she had always longed to marry.

“My tea is excellent,” she told him, settling the cup in its saucer. “I must admit that you can pour a proper cup. I wouldn’t have expected it of you.”

“I am a man of many talents,” he quipped with a flourish.

And a man of many facets, she thought quietly, observing him from across the table.

They had fallen asleep again after making love earlier that morning, and then he had treated her to the remaining picnic food from the larder.

He had lit the range and toasted bread for her and made tea.

Not very ducal and hardly the actions of a heartless scoundrel.

He was forever feeding her and tending to her needs.

Rhiannon wisely neglected pointing that out to him.

“Very many talents,” she agreed aloud instead, heat rising to her cheeks as she thought of his skilled hands and wicked mouth.

She’d had no idea it was possible to experience so much pleasure.

“I’m gratified you concur.” He gave her a rakish wink.

“Oh, I certainly do.”

She still couldn’t quite believe where his sinful tongue had been earlier. Rhiannon was reasonably certain she would swoon if she ever mentioned it aloud.

“What has put that expression on your lovely face?” he asked, raising a brow.

He was insufferably handsome this morning, his whiskers a bit more pronounced, his green eyes vibrant and warm on hers.

“The tea, of course,” she lied smoothly, bringing her cup to her lips.

“I didn’t know you found tea so…moving.” He gave her a slow smile that made her bare toes curl on the old stone floor.

She was dressed informally in her shirt and bloomers, her stockings still draped somewhere upstairs in the bedroom. They had been missing and her stomach had been rumbling, so she had eschewed them.

“Quite,” she said, giving him a serene smile.

He leaned forward on the table, resting his weight on one forearm as his hair fell across his brow. “Do you know what I think, minx?”

“No, but it looks as if you are about to tell me.”

“I think that you’re remembering my tongue on you in that forbidden place, how it felt. You liked it, didn’t you?”

More heat crept up her throat. Oh, he was wicked. She didn’t know if he was trying to fluster her or if this was more of his campaign to prove himself as a cruel, heartless rake. Perhaps both. Either way, she wasn’t going to allow him this particular victory.

She forced herself to hold his stare. “I like your tongue on me everywhere.”

His gaze darkened and smoldered with sensual promise. “Touché.”

He had turned her into a wanton. She scarcely recognized herself. But she liked this newfound freedom to be as bold as she liked with him. He made her feel as if she were capable of anything. Brazen and powerful and so very alive.

How could she have resigned herself to a staid, proper marriage with the Earl of Carnis?

Rhiannon couldn’t fathom it now. Nor would she return to accept his suit.

She couldn’t. Not knowing what she would be missing.

Not loving Aubrey as she did, and most definitely not with the hope burning to life inside her that he might one day return her feelings.

Despite his protestations to the contrary.

Smiling to herself, she finished the last of her tea.

“What do you think about spending the day here at the cottage again?” Aubrey asked suddenly, surprising her.

“I can ride back to the main house and have the servants return and replenish our food supply. You needn’t worry that they would see you.

You could stay upstairs until they finish their tasks and go back to Wingfield Hall. ”

The chance to spend another day with him, just the two of them? Rhiannon could scarcely believe her fortune.

“I would enjoy that immensely.” She paused. “But I would also dearly love a bath. I suppose having one is quite impossible here, isn’t it?”

“What manner of host am I? I’ve neglected to show you the bath. It was added when we refurbished the cottage. There is a tub which is quite deep and lovely. All I’ll need to do is heat the kitchen range again, and you’ll have hot water at the ready.”

“That sounds divine, but I haven’t any soap.”

“Tell me where it is, and I’ll fetch it from your bedroom when I return.”

She thought for a moment, trying to recall where she had left it, but it was no use.

“You’ve no notion where you put it, have you?” he asked, apparently reading her expression.

Rhiannon winced. “It is somewhere within my room. But where is something of a mystery.”

“As I thought. It’s likely beneath a mound of dresses you’ve discarded as not being worthy.”

“In my defense, I had no notion you would be spiriting me away to a cottage for days. I thought I was returning.”

“You are returning. Eventually. Just not today.” He gave her a soft smile that was almost boyish. “If you wish it, that is.”

Oh, how she liked this charming, softer side of him.

“Of course I wish it,” she conceded. “But a bath would still be lovely.”

As would a fresh gown, but she couldn’t imagine how he might manage to gather such a cumbersome garment and take it through the house without arousing suspicion. She would simply have to settle for her shirt and bloomers until she returned to Wingfield Hall herself.

“Then a bath you shall have,” Aubrey told her gallantly. “Unfortunately, I cannot promise what manner of soap I will be able to scavenge. Your bedroom looks as if it has been ransacked by an invading army that has taken anything remotely of value and trampled the rest.”

“It looks nothing like that,” she defended, slightly insulted. “It looks as if it has been kept by a woman who is accustomed to a clever lady’s maid doing most of the work for her and is now rather a bit lost without her aid.”

He laughed and shook his head. “When you leave, we shall have to set the room on fire.”

“Aubrey,” she scolded him. “You are rotten for saying something so appallingly rude to me. You really ought to apologize.”

“I will later.” He winked as he rose from his chair and rounded the table to her side. “I’ll join you in the bath and make certain you’re clean everywhere .”

Heat pulsed to life between her legs. “That sounds acceptable.”

“Acceptable, eh?” He bent down and kissed her nose. “Until later, minx.”

She watched him stride from the kitchen, admiring him as he went, taking her poor heart with him.