Page 37 of Dukes All Night Long

Jenny

J enny stood frozen, breath caught in her throat. There was conviction in his voice, and for the first time, she’d allowed herself to consider that she’d been wrong. She’d never allowed herself to doubt the rumors, since it would only hurt worse when she found out they were true.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Fin said, voice taut, “that I was set up. A cover up well orchestrated by my father. Protecting his heir was more important than my happiness. More important than the woman I wanted to marry.”

Jenny’s heart kicked hard in her chest.

“The woman you loved?” she echoed, barely above a whisper. Wanting to hear him say the words, but also still uncertain if she could believe him.

Fin stepped closer. In the moonlight, she caught the grief carved into the lines of his face.

“Do you truly not know who I speak of, Jenny?”

The intensity of his gaze made her breath catch. His scent lingered in his coat around her shoulders—sandalwood, something warm and familiar. She wanted to deny it. To hold fast to her anger. But his words chipped away at the armor she’d built.

“I don’t believe you,” she said, though her voice betrayed her. “But dammit, I want to.”

Fin’s expression softened, his eyes searching hers in the moonlight. “Do you think I wanted this? To be banished from society? To have the woman I intended to marry believe me capable of such abhorrent behavior? To have my own father sacrifice my happiness without hesitation?”

The emotion in his voice hit her like a blow. It wasn’t rehearsed. It wasn’t meant to charm. It was real. He had been in pain. He was in pain.

“Then why come back?” she asked roughly.

“Because I was done hiding for a crime I didn’t commit,” he said. “And foolishly… because I hoped I might see you again. Even if just for a moment, to know you were all right.”

Her defenses crumbled faster than a house of cards. Heaven help her, but she believed him.

Before she could stop herself, she rose to her toes and pressed her lips to his.

The moment their lips met, it was as if a flame caught between them.

His arms immediately encircled her, pulling her against him as his mouth moved over hers with desperate hunger.

Jenny melted into him, her fingers threading through his hair, her body remembering what her mind had tried to forget.

The coat slipped from her shoulders, forgotten as heat bloomed between them.

When they finally pulled apart, breathing hard, he rested his forehead against hers.

“I’ve dreamed of your kiss every night since I left,” he whispered, his breath warm between them.

Jenny trembled, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions coursing through her. Desire, relief, uncertainty. They all warred within her chest. “I wanted to hate you,” she confessed. “It was easier.”

He cradled her face, thumbing her cheeks. “And now?”

Jenny closed her eyes, overwhelmed by all she’d learned. A year of nursing her wounded heart, of believing the worst, and they could have been together.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But I don’t want to stop.”

She pressed her entire body against his, urging him backward until he was flush against the back of the carriage before she kissed him again. No way could she deny that he still affected her. That she wanted him. Loved him. Dammit.

He groaned against her mouth, gripping her waist as the kiss deepened. The chill of the night only heightened the heat sparking between them. Jenny shivered, but not from cold.

“Jenny,” he groaned against her lips, “tell me to stop. We must stop.”

But she couldn’t. Not when her body sang with each touch, not when her heart—traitorous thing that it was—leapt with joy at his nearness after so many months of aching emptiness.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed, her fingers gripping the back of his neck, sliding beneath his cravat, desperate to feel his skin beneath her fingertips. “Please.”

That was all it took.

He spun her, pressing her back against the carriage. “Wrap your legs around me,” he growled.

Jenny hesitated for a moment, wondering if she could trust him.

But her body had a mind of its own and she obeyed.

She hiked up her skirt as he lifted her and slid his large hand beneath the layers to cup the back of her thigh.

Her back braced against the carriage as his fingers brushed along her flesh.

“Have you touched yourself?” he asked, lips grazing the curve of her neck.

Jenny nodded, tilting her head in silent invitation. Willing him to continue.

“And did you think of me?” His mouth closed over the spot just behind her jaw, sucking hard enough to make her whimper.

Another nod. His answering growl rumbled against her skin.

“That’s a very good girl.”

His fingers slid higher, parting her. She gasped, her head falling back against the carriage as his touch ignited something deep and wicked inside her. His mouth claimed hers again, swallowing her moans as his thumb circled the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center.

“I’ve imagined you like this,” he rasped. “The expression on your face the first time I made you come.”

Jenny could barely breathe, her hips grinding against his hand, chasing the inevitable release slowly building inside her.

“And you?” she panted. “Did you touch yourself?”

“Many times.”

She opened her eyes, locking onto his. The hunger in them—raw, barely reined in—it undid her.

“Show me,” she whispered. “I want to see. I want you to feel what I feel.”

His jaw clenched. “Jenny—”

“Please,” she cried, cutting off whatever gallant protest hovered on his tongue. She had already missed the past year where she could have enjoyed such delights.

He closed his eyes for a beat, visibly warring with himself. But he moved his hand, unfastening the buttons of his falls, freeing himself.

Her breath caught.

His cock stood rigid between them. Jenny couldn’t look away. Enamored and unashamed, she reached for him, wrapping her hand around the thick length. He was velvet over steel. Smooth, hot, and pulsing in her grip.

Fin tightened his grip on her thigh as he fingered between her legs, sliding back inside her. The sensation was sharper and more consuming now, with his cock in her hand.

“Stroke me,” he ground out. “Move your hand along my shaft.”

She did as he instructed, slowly at first and then with more confidence, reveling in the way his breath hitched, in the tension coiling through his body at her touch.

Fin groaned desperately as she stroked him. She had never felt more powerful and womanly than she did in his arms, being the one to bring him pleasure.

He plunged his fingers inside her, curling just right, his thumb circling her pearl, increasing speed to match hers.

“God, Jenny…” His voice was strained and ragged.

She gasped, her forehead resting against his shoulder as her rhythm faltered under the onslaught of pleasure. Every exposed nerve trembled under his touch.

“You have no idea of the things I want to do to you,” he murmured, his lips brushing her temple.

A whimper tore from her throat. She tightened her grip on him, stroking faster, feeling the tension ripple through him. His cock throbbed in her hand and the guttural sounds he made drove her higher.

“You’re close,” he panted. “Let go for me, Jenny. I want to feel you come around my fingers.”

His words unleashed something inside her. Her release crashed over her, pleasure tearing through her in waves. She cried out, burying her face into his neck. Her legs trembled as she clung to him.

Fin cursed under his breath, thrusting into her fist a few times. Then, with a groan that sounded like her name, he stilled. Warm streams of liquid spilled over her fingers. His body shuddered against hers as he braced himself on the carriage behind them.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Just heavy breaths in the night air, hearts pounding in sync.

It was just as it had been many months ago.

All of the emotion had come rushing back.

Truthfully, it had never left. She just finally believed she could allow herself to feel things for him again.

The sounds of horses and a carriage sounded in the distance, breaking their spell.

Fin tucked himself back into his breeches, then gently took her hand, cleaning it with his handkerchief.

The tenderness of the act nearly undid her more than the heat that had come before.

He lowered her to the ground with care, then swept up his coat and settled it over her shoulders.

She didn’t need the warmth. But she didn’t shrug it off either.

“What does this mean?” she asked, her voice steadier than she felt.

Fin stared down at her, his breath still coming in short bursts. His eyes were dark with longing and something deeper. Something that made her heart clench in her chest with hope.

“It means,” he said, cupping her cheek, “that I belong to you.” He thumbed her lower lip. “I never stopped loving you, Jenny. Even when I thought I’d lost you forever.”

Love. The word struck her like lightning. It was unexpected and yet exactly what she’d yearned to hear.

Did he mean it? Could she believe him?

She wasn’t sure what terrified her more. That none of this had been real… or that it was.

Even if her heart believed him, would Elias accept the match? She knew her heart wasn’t strong enough to lose Fin again.