Page 49 of Her Heartless Duke
She felt her bodice loosen, felt the cool air against her back as he deftly undid the buttons at the back of her dress and the laces of her stays. Slowly, he pulled her neckline down, exposing her heated flesh to his perusal.
With a low growl, he fastened his lips upon her breast, sucking the stiff peak into his mouth as she cried out in sheer pleasure, her fingers digging into his broad shoulders.
“Isaac!” she gasped.
He raised his head for a moment. “Am I hurting you?”
She shook her head, her face flushed. “On the contrary, I like it very, very much.”
His wicked grin flashed against her breast as he renewed his efforts of feasting upon her nipples, her soft moans urging him on, spurring him to take his fill of her.
Olivia felt as if she was in a small boat, tossed about in a stormy sea as her ever-present headache faded into the background, swallowed up by the sheer pleasure Isaac was evoking from her own body.
She felt her skirts being dragged up her leg as Isaac pressed her against the balustrade. She wanted more of his touch, more of him. He was like a fever in her blood, clamoring for some release she could not name, could not help but reach for.
“Isaac,” she moaned. “I do not think we should—”
But then his fingers unerringly found her core and she could not help but gasp at the sensual delight he was evoking from her.
There was a certain thrill to be had in doing something so scandalous out in the open. The thought that anyone might walk upon them on that balcony with her skirts rucked up to her waist while she wantonly rode his hand… it only served to drive the feverish need in her blood.
The thunder of applause suddenly snapped her out of the fevered haze she was enveloped in. As she blinked, she felt Isaac drop her skirts, his lips ceasing to move over her exposed breast as he leaned his forehead against her chest.
The spell had been broken and they were once more Lady Olivia Bennet and the Duke of Langley.
“W-we should head back,” she stammered. “My aunt and cousin will be looking for me.”
Isaac remained stoically silent; his eyes still dark as he watched her intently.
Olivia ducked her head, refusing to meet his gaze as she fixed her clothes. As she reached for her back, she felt his fingers, warm and light, as they helped her fasten her stays and buttons.
“It is done,” he said simply.
She nodded, feeling equal parts awkward and miserable inside. “Thank you for your assistance, Your Grace.”
She reached into her fallen reticule and handed him a folded sheet of paper with the same vivid yet nondescript wax seal holding it all closed.
“From Lady Vivian,” she told him softly, before she turned around and headed back into the theater.
That should not have happened,she told herself.I cannot allow it to happen again…
She had almost reached the door when she felt a large hand wrap around her upper arm. Olivia turned around to find Isaac looking somberly at her.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” he said in a low voice. “At Anderleigh Hall.”
She nodded and bit her lip. “I-I shall be there, Your Grace.”
For a moment, he seemed loath to let her go, his eyes drinking her in from the top of her head to her feet. And then, his fingers slowly loosened their hold on her and he released her, causing her to nearly stumble back.
“Olivia?”
She raised her hopeful gaze at him. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Thank you,” he said softly, holding the letter up. “For this.”
She pasted a smile on her face and nodded, before she turned and all but lurched back into the theater.
Deceiving him was wrong. Wanting him was wrong. Isaac Anderleigh was all sorts of wrong for her.