Page 15 of Tantalizing the Duke (Wayward Dukes Alliance #22)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

T he fire flickered in the drawing room, sending errant shadows dancing over the walls. Milly nestled beside Dainsfield on the settee, her gown hugging the curves of her body in a way that surely pleased the man who was now her husband. “We’ve known each other forever,” she said, breaking the silence with a hint of mischief in her voice.

He made a noise that might have been a chuckle as he brought an arm around her shoulder. Milly tucked herself closer, reveling in the warmth of both the room and his touch.

“Since you were eighteen, at least,” Dainsfield replied, his expression softened by memories.

She lifted her head, her sparkling eyes meeting his. “The party. That awful, wonderful cyprian party.”

Dainsfield’s reserved expression melted into a smile as he drew her onto his lap. “You looked too young to be at such a party,” he said, allowing the smile to linger.

“And yet there I was,” Milly retorted, with a playfully defiant lift of her chin. “And you! How old were you? Three-and-twenty, perhaps? Quite ancient to my tender eighteen.”

Dainsfield’s eyes warmed, dark and inviting in the firelight. “Old enough to know you shouldn’t have been there.”

Milly wriggled to make herself more comfortable, her laughter filling the room. “Yet I survived, as you can see.” Her gown shifted as she moved, showing just enough skin to make his gaze follow. “Did you really think I couldn’t manage it?”

“You managed all too well,” Dainsfield replied, drawing her even closer. “That’s what concerned me.”

Milly leaned back, studying him with teasing appraisal. “I seem to remember you were the only man at that party I didn’t make love to.”

Dainsfield’s brows lifted in mock affront, and his hand settled possessively on her hip. “A failing I’m more than capable of correcting.”

Her laughter was as bright as the fire, and she traced a finger along his jaw. “You were very solemn then, too. I wasn’t sure whether you pitied me or disapproved.”

He made a thoughtful sound, his fingers toying with the edge of her gown. “Neither, as it happens. I was mostly struck by how beautiful you were. The other men seemed equally struck.”

Her eyes danced with mischief. “I seem to remember some were quite overwhelmed. I took great satisfaction in that.”

“As I recall, you took satisfaction in quite a few things that evening.” He watched her intently, a familiar heat kindling between them.

Milly tilted her head, considering him with amusement. “And there you were, like a statue in the corner, brooding as always.”

“I wasn’t brooding,” Dainsfield objected, a flash of rare playfulness in his voice. “I was contemplating the foolishness of any man who didn’t fall hopelessly in love with you that night.”

Her breath caught, and she leaned into his embrace. “You didn’t.”

“I most certainly did,” he corrected, lifting a hand to trace her cheek. “I just kept it a secret from both of us.”

Milly’s gaze softened, a tender light in her eyes. “Five years is a very long time to keep a secret.”

“Not so long,” he murmured, his hand trailing down her neck with unerring purpose. “Though some things have changed in those years. You’ve grown.”

Her laughter returned, low and inviting. “You mean I’ve aged. Like cheese. Or wine.”

“I mean your body, my scandalous wife,” Dainsfield replied, his large hands moving to cup her breasts through the gown. “Particularly these.”

She arched into his touch, a breathy sigh escaping her lips. “Was that why you married me? In case they got away?”

“I couldn’t risk it,” he said, circling her nipples with his thumbs, feeling them respond beneath the fabric.

Milly trembled against him, a delightful shiver that he felt in his own core. “Even as a newlywed, you’re as reserved as ever.”

His fingers teased with knowing intent, each motion claiming her as his own. “I might be reserved, but I assure you I’m thorough.”

“Yes, you do like things done properly,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering as pleasure stole through her.

“Particularly when it comes to you,” Dainsfield said, watching the way her lips parted at his touch.

Her head fell back, and her laughter had a new edge of longing. “You’ve always been too proper for your own good.”

Dainsfield pulled her closer, claiming her mouth with a kiss that spoke of years of restrained desire, the taste of her more intoxicating than any cyprian party could ever have been.

* * *

Milly’s breath came in little gasps, each one a melody to Dainsfield’s ears. He lowered his head, his lips grazing her neck as he murmured, “I thought of myself as your big brother at that party.” Milly’s body stilled beneath his touch, and she lifted her head to meet his gaze, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“A big brother?” she teased, her voice a mix of amusement and disbelief. “You certainly didn’t behave like one.”

His hand paused, savoring the feel of her through the thin fabric. “I didn’t want them taking advantage of you,” he admitted, feeling the weight of years-old emotions finding their way to the surface.

She laughed, a bright, reckless sound. “I loved how each man was different. I didn’t want to give that up.”

He pulled back slightly, searching her face. “Has that changed? Now that you’re married to me?”

Milly caught her breath, her eyes searching his, measuring his intent. The moment stretched between them, full of expectation. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a smile as bold as the declaration that followed. “No man has satisfied me the way you have,” she said, a hint of wonder in her voice. “I suspect love has more to do with orgasms than my cunny.”

Dainsfield absorbed her words, a slow grin lighting up his usually somber features. “You surprise me at every turn, Milly.”

Her smile turned wicked. “I may miss having more than one man at the same time.”

He met her gaze steadily, the playful tension crackling between them like the fire in the hearth. “And if I say that’s not going to happen?”

Milly studied him, delighting in his thoughtful pause, the way his mind worked beneath the handsome facade. She saw the exact moment his expression hardened into determination.

“No,” Dainsfield said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m a very jealous, very possessive man. I could never allow another to enjoy your body. Not even someone you’ve had before or a friend.”

His words were firm, but they carried an edge of apology. Milly pretended to sigh, a sound of exaggerated woe, as her fingers began to stroke his thigh with calculated intent.

“One man? Oh, the imposition,” she said, her voice layered with humor and desire.

“You seem amused by your fate,” he observed, watching her fingers with rapt attention as they brushed closer to his growing need.

Her hand paused just long enough to make him want more. “Only if that one man is up to the task.” She let her fingers drift over the hardening length of him, her own breath catching as she felt his reaction.

Dainsfield’s eyes darkened with the same possessiveness that colored his words. He lifted one of her breasts from her gown, exposing her to the warmth of the room and his gaze. “I don’t intend to disappoint,” he said, the intensity of his stare matched only by the deftness of his fingers as they teased her nipple to a taut peak.

Milly’s laughter was a joyous sound, full of anticipation and the thrill of his determination. “You’ve much to live up to, husband.”

“I accept the challenge,” Dainsfield replied, sealing his promise with a kiss that claimed her as thoroughly as his hands and his heart. The drawing room and all its elegant trappings seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of them, their passion, and the untold possibilities of forever.

Her fingers moved with skillful intent, and he could almost believe she’d forgotten about all those other men. “I don’t like to disappoint you,” Dainsfield said, lifting one of her breasts from her gown, exposing her to the room’s warmth.

Her laughter turned to a soft moan as his fingers found her nipple, teasing it to an aching hardness. “You have so far to go,” she murmured, leaning into his touch.

He smiled at her boldness, a heated promise in his eyes. “I won’t give you reason to regret it, Milly.”

She shivered with pleasure, every touch making her want him more. “You’re very sure of yourself,” she said, though her voice lacked any real challenge.

“Very,” Dainsfield replied, the words a pledge and a provocation. He caught her hand, stilling its progress just long enough to remind her who held the true power. Then he released it, a deliberate invitation that spoke of trust as well as desire.

Milly’s fingers continued their exploration, sparking an urgency in him that was mirrored in her own heightened breaths. “Show me,” she taunted, delight and anticipation mingling in every syllable.

He pulled her closer, kissing her with a passion that had been building from the moment she’d mentioned more than one man. His lips on hers were both a challenge and a surrender, a claiming of her heart and body in a way no words could convey.

Milly wrapped her arms around him, losing herself in the promise of his embrace. They shifted on the settee, all thought of other lovers, past or future, vanishing in the heat of the present moment. Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, finding the warmth of his skin and the rapid beat of his heart.

“Milly,” Dainsfield whispered, her name a benediction and a plea. His hands moved with purpose, his urgency a match for hers. He lowered her to the floor, where the world narrowed to the two of them, the fire, and the untamed, glorious hunger that neither could deny.

Her gown slid from her body, an elegant tumble of fabric and desire. Dainsfield took his time, savoring the act of undressing her as he would a rare delicacy. Milly lay on the floor, the firelight painting her skin in tones of bronze and warmth. She watched him with eager eyes, the intimacy of his gaze nearly as erotic as his touch. He worshiped her with his hands and his mouth, each kiss a declaration more profound than words. Milly arched against him, her body a symphony of longing and love, her voice a soft and urgent chorus. He smiled against her skin, feeling the rush of satisfaction that came with knowing he had driven all other thoughts, all other lovers, from her mind.

He traced his lips along the swell of her breasts, savoring the softness, the taste, the way her breath caught in her throat. Her nipples were already taut, eager for his attention, and he obliged them with tender, possessive flicks of his tongue. Milly’s fingers curled into his hair, a wordless plea for more, for everything. He obliged again, moving slowly down her body, worshiping each inch as if it were sacred and his alone.

Her stomach, her hips, the sensitive skin along the line of her thigh—he kissed and licked and sucked, delighting in the shivers that followed the trail of his mouth. Milly’s voice rose in sweet, breathless notes, her body moving beneath him with a grace and abandon that made him dizzy with desire. He paused, meeting her gaze with a smoldering intensity that made her shudder before he touched her again. She arched toward him, each motion an expression of the longing that only he could satisfy.

Dainsfield took her wrists, pinning them gently above her head as he moved between her legs. She gasped his name, and it was more intoxicating than the finest wine, more compelling than any desire he’d ever known. Her cry became a wordless plea, and then it was nothing but the rhythm of her quickening breaths, the wild, untamed song of her pleasure.

He worshiped her with his tongue, his mouth, the relentless devotion of his touch. Milly writhed beneath him, her fingers tangling in his dark hair, her body yielding and taut in the same urgent, perfect moment. He felt the first trembling waves as they coursed through her, then the great, full flood that followed. Her cry filled the room, raw and exquisite, and he held her to him, drinking in the essence of her climax and the sheer, wild beauty of her release.

Milly lay in a delicious sprawl, her skin flushed and her heart still racing as he rose above her. Dainsfield made quick work of his clothing, a man in the thrall of an urgency that could no longer be contained. His shirt fell to the floor, revealing the hard, muscular planes of his chest, the powerful lines of a body that seemed sculpted by some passionate and generous hand.

She watched, her eyes dark with anticipation, as he removed his trousers. His erection was bold and fierce, a testament to his desire and the promise he’d made her. “You’re beautiful,” Milly breathed, each word colored with awe and yearning.

Dainsfield smiled, a rakish twist of his lips as he moved over her. “Not quite as beautiful as you,” he said, claiming her mouth with a kiss that was both tender and possessive, a declaration that was both challenge and surrender.

She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him to her with a need that was nearly desperate. He thrust into her, and the world seemed to splinter and reform, leaving nothing but the exquisite joining of their bodies. Milly gasped, each sensation heightened by the love she saw reflected in his eyes, by the passion she felt in every powerful stroke.

Her fingers dug into his back, urging him on as he drove into her with an intensity that matched her own. She moved beneath him, her hips rising to meet his, the wet, hot slide of their bodies setting the rhythm of their hearts. Dainsfield’s breath came in rough, fervent pants, and he knew he would never want another the way he wanted her.

Their climax built between them, an unstoppable force that drew them together with ever-increasing urgency. Milly’s cries grew louder, uninhibited and wild, and he reveled in the sound of them, in the knowledge that he alone could provoke such joy. He thrust harder, faster, feeling the tension coil and explode as they reached the peak together.

It was everything he had hoped and everything she had longed for. They remained entwined, their limbs a glorious tangle, the rug a haphazard testament to their love. The fire burned low, a warm and gentle glow, but neither of them noticed as they held each other close.

“You’re the only man I could ever love,” Milly whispered, her breath a soft caress against his cheek.

Dainsfield smiled, a happiness so profound it almost frightened him. “And you’re the only woman I’ll ever want,” he replied, sealing the promise with a kiss as deep and tender as the bond that would unite them forever.

****I hope you’ve enjoyed Dainsfield and Milly’s story. Would you like to meet Betty and Longford as they first discovered each other at Sutcliffe’s? Read on for a sample of Bedeviling the Duke.****