Page 30 of Seven Nights with the Wicked Duke (Regency Beasts #3)

" T his is to be our final night together, Cecilia."

Theo felt cut to the heart when her face fell at his words, but he had decided. No matter how dreadful ending their agreement had him feeling, he would stick to his plan.

He had failed to maintain his control over his emotions at the dinner because seeing Hector so familiar with her and the thought of him being the one who would teach Cecilia everything left to know about pleasure set a bitter feeling rolling in his stomach.

And that feeling had alerted him to the fact that something had changed between him and Cecilia but seeing her now as she undressed for their new activity, he felt as though he was tainting the light that used to radiate from her.

He was starting to care for her beyond just helping her with her silly list and that fact scared him.

He had promised himself even before he had given his invitation after the dinner that it would be their last night together because he couldn't understand how and why she was able to make him so vulnerable.

"I have asked my staff to stay away from the path to the lake," he told her. "You will have no fear of anyone seeing you."

She nodded.

"It is a cold night," she added.

"Indeed but it was on your list and we must do it. You can take a sip of whisky to warm up before you go."

She wrinkled her nose.

"Do I have to?" she asked.

He nodded.

“'Tis not sweet but it will keep you warm enough."

She frowned and nodded and he turned to pour her a finger of the drink. When he handed it to her, she took a whiff of it and shook her head.

"You must drink it. All of it, or you will catch your death."

She downed the cup in one long swallow, her face wrinkling with disgust.

He poured himself a larger volume and downed it, turning to her with a smile.

"I do not understand why you men drink this," she complained, retching. "It is positively acrid."

"It is, but it is enjoyable," he told her.

"Shall we?" she told him. "It is getting late and I do not want to spend the hours we have left arguing about your preferences in drink."

He laughed and pulled out the robes he had prepared in advance for them.

"Here," he said handing her the smaller of the two. "I know you would rather not cavort across my estate naked."

She accepted it and pulled it about her.

He pulled his on and led the way to the small lake behind his property. He hadn't gone swimming in it in a while but when the cool evening breeze touched him, he couldn't remember why he had stopped what used to be a habit for him.

He went in first and dove deeper.

"Come in here, Cecilia," he told her. "The water is marvelous this evening."

"Christ!" she screamed. "It is cold."

She had only just dipped her toes in and was already screaming.

"You were the one that wanted to do this, so this is what you deserve."

She screamed with each step she took into the water.

He was thankful his estate was well out of anyone's way or they would no doubt suspect he was murdering someone. After a while of squirming, she began to smile, playing in the water.

"I don't know whether it is the alcohol in my blood or the moon light but I feel very light," she giggled, floating on the water surface. "And you were right to give me whisky. My belly is warm."

He smiled, watching her float atop the water surface with almost childlike glee.

"It is good to listen to me then?" he asked with a knowing smile.

She spared him a look before swimming away.

"Sometimes."

He smiled at her and swam about as well.

"I didn't know you could swim. Who taught you?"

"A maid taught me," she answered. "I grew up in our country estate and since Magnus was usually not in residence, I used to steal away to the lake to play by myself. After I fell in once, she taught me so that I wouldn't drown if I fell in again."

"That was brilliant of her," he commented.

"I agree," she answered, giggling. "I refused to come out of the water after that. At least not willingly."

"I see you have always been a hellion," he teased.

She splashed him and he reiterated. Soon they were splashing each other and laughing in the moonlight.

He captured her hands in his, admiring her.

"You're like a little mermaid," he told her. "So beautiful and tempting. If you were at sea, you would lure men to their deaths."

She pulled away from him, wrinkling her nose.

"That was supposed to be a compliment but it was rather poor," she complained. "Try again."

He swam after her, stopping her movement. She swam closer, looking up at him. the water hid all but her face from him but he was content to just look at her.

Her hands reached up to cup his face and he did the same to hers.

He kissed her as they floated in the lake, pulling her into his chest. The air and water around them was cold but their bodies were hot and the desire swirling in his blood chased away the chill he should be feeling.

He pulled her into him even more hoping to transfer some of his warmth to her.

Her legs wrapped around his waist and unable to help himself, he smiled, hiking her up on his chest. She hissed as though she had experienced something pleasurable and he ground against her again.

She whimpered, throwing her head back, looking beautiful in the moonlight.

"My very own moon goddess," he whispered against the skin of her neck.

"I thought I was a mermaid," she smiled, lowering her eyes to him.

Desire made her eyes wide and she seemed unabashed at their nakedness. He had taught her well.

He grinned.

"You're that and more," he whispered, kissing her again. "I want to taste you now."

"Here?" she asked, looking around.

"Indeed," he answered.

"You intend for us to catch our death. It is much too cold," she answered.

"Perhaps." He smiled. "I could keep you warm…"

"Please let us go inside."

He nodded and rose with her legs still around him. She tried to untangle them but he refused.

"Your Grace, we can't traipse around your estate like this," she told him. "It is beyond improper. Your staff will be thoroughly scandalized."

"They have seen worse," he teased, laughing when she gasped with wide eyes.

"You can't be serious!" she gasped.

"I am. I have had adventurous partners."

She slapped his shoulder playfully with one hand.

"That is entirely ludicrous," she said, wrinkling her nose. "And I do not appreciate you speaking of other partners with me present."

"Why?" he asked teasingly. "Does it make you jealous?"

Her jealousy was obvious and amused him greatly.

"No. It just picks at my ego," she answered with a pout. "I do not like to be compared."

He nodded.

"Alright," he agreed then. "I will defer to you this time and allow us to return indoors dressed."

She nodded and tried to disentangle herself but he palmed her bottom tightly drawing her gaze.

"Just know once we're indoors and sufficiently undressed, I intend to punish you for making me wait."

She whimpered, but not out of fear. Her lovely eyes looked excited by the prospect and he had to bite his lip to tamper his need to kiss her. If he did, he would be sore tempted to forget they were outdoors and feast on her.

Reluctantly, he let her don the robe he had prepared for her, pulling her along when she dallied. Her giggle had him laughing as well, feeling lighter than he had in a while.

When they were in his chambers, he led her to the bed, undressing them both in a heartbeat. He lay her back, tasting her body as he had longed to do when she was bathed in the moonlight.

She responded well, burying her hand in his hair and making noises that drove fire through his sex.

God, he wanted her.

He wanted her with a burning passion and the friction of their writhing bodies against his hard member was driving him wild with repressed need.

"Your Grace," she whimpered. "I'm burning with need."

"Indeed?" he teased kissing down her beautiful body to the core of her where she was weeping with desire.

Her arousal smelled divine and sweet on his tongue and he allowed himself feast on her, savoring but when he felt her begin to near her ecstasy, he paused.

"I need to hear you say my name, Cecilia," he told her. "I want my name on your tongue when you scream your pleasure."

"I cannot call you by name," she argued. "It is not proper."

He tongued her throbbing peak again with a teasing smirk.

"We have gone beyond what is proper and what isn't, darling Cecilia," he reminded her and just in case she had forgotten, he kissed her everywhere but where she was craving his touch. "We are too well acquainted to be discussing this."

"Emerton..."

He bit down painfully on her hip to punish her.

"Not that name," he scolded. "That is my father's name. I want my name on your lips while I have my tongue inside you. Say my name, Cecilia, or I will send you home burning with need."

"Theo," she said breathily, whimpering. "Please."

His name on her lips nearly broke him and he leaned forward and put an end to her misery, satisfying her in the way she deserved with his tongue and lips and when she shouted out her satisfaction, he was right there savoring every drop as though it were the last time because indeed it would be the last time. He had promised himself.

He kissed his way up her body, burying his hand in her hair and he kissed her, allowing himself one final taste of her before he finally freed her of his depravity.

"Theo," she begged when he freed her lips, wrapping her arms around him. "I want it to be you."

Her words stilled him.

"Cecilia..." he groaned. "Christ. You don't know what you're asking for."

His self-control was hanging by a thin thread and any more words that made him question everything. She saw so hot and slick beneath him. it would take nothing for him to sheathe himself inside her warmth and show her all the decadence his body had to offer but after that?

What would that mean for her?

She was offering up herself now but he knew she wouldn't be able to return to her previous life when he ended things. This was something important he couldn't take from her. Not when she didn't understand exactly what would happen after he made love to her.

He already saw her eyes sadden when he hinted at the end of their agreement. If he were to make love to her the way he craved to, she would be broken when he inevitably ended things.

And he didn't want to break her because he liked seeing her light. He loved how she brought light to the dark corners of his mind. Loved… loved her.

He stiffened at the realization and pulled away from her.

He loved Cecilia?

How?

He shook his head and stood.

"I believe we have come to the end of our arrangement," he told her, rising to dress in his robe. "Come. I will help you dress."

Cecilia wished she had words, or at least could do something to have him change his mind about ending their arrangement but as he led back to the castle and helped her to dress, her mouth opened severally but no words could proceed.

She knew it was for her sake he was ending things but she couldn't summon any joy. Instead, she felt worse than she had when she had decided to make the list and more desperate than when she had asked him to accompany her to parties.

He, on the other hand, seemed as though he had reverted back to his polite treatment of her before he had met her in that dark hallway. His mannerisms were cool and even dressing her, he had said no word nor given her a flirtatious gaze.

When he was done, he leaned back to observe her then nodded.

"I will have my butler call you a hansom so you won't be out in the cold too long," he said with a small smile.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

He nodded, looking as though he wanted to say more but decided against it.

"Have a good night, Your Grace," she said then, forcing the words out past the lump in her throat. "Thank you for… for everything."

He looked at her then, eyes heavy with many unsaid words but he smiled then.

"Be happy, Cecilia."

She nodded even though she felt her heart snapped and moved out of his study, somehow keeping her steps even, though she felt like running.

"Don't forget your coat, my lady," the butler called after her.

She took it and nodded her gratitude, stepping into the street. She entered the hansom the butler had hailed, looking back at his house and hoping she would see him coming after her but the door remained firmly shut and the cobblestone path to the house, empty.

She sighed, leaning back into her seat.

"Let's go," she told the driver.

All through the ride down London's streets, she fought back he sob clawing its way up her throat, placing a hand over her mouth to stop the sound escaping all the while blinking back tears.

Her home loomed in the distance, dark and foreboding, reminding her that once again she would return to the prison she had fought so hard to escape from albeit unsuccessfully.

The tears began to drop when she paid her fare, continuing when she ascended the stairs taking care to be silent as she made her way to her chamber. The familiarity of the action had a sob escaping her so she hurried her steps so she didn't alert her brother.

When she finally stepped into her chambers, all she could do was throw herself in bed and mourn the love that she had never fully experienced but lost already.

"Your Grace, she has departed," Charles, his butler, informed him.

Theo stood by the window staring at the empty roads leading out of his estate. She had long since disappeared but he couldn't bring himself to move away. The urge to go after her and pull her into his arms was strong so he held tightly to the windowsill, willing the feelings away.

"All right," he answered without turning.

"Will that be all, Your Grace?" Charles asked.

It took him a long internal battle with himself to not have him ready his carriage before he finally spoke.

"Yes. That will be all."

"Very well, Your Grace."

The sound of the door closing softly seemed louder in his mind like a jailer slamming iron doors shut and soon he was left alone with his thoughts screaming at him for being so foolish.

And as always, he turned to his sideboard.

To the new bottle of whisky that would dull all the voices in his mind till he drifted off to slumber.