Page 52 of The Big Bad Duke (The Shadows #9)

She shattered, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she convulsed around him. Her climax rocked through her, long and hard, and the way she clenched around him, the way her body milked his—he was barely hanging on.

But he wanted even more.

He tightened his grip and groaned, “Turn around. Ride me from behind.”

She nodded, dazed and breathless.

Carefully, she climbed off him. He gritted his teeth against the pain and shifted upright, propped against the headboard and pillows. When she climbed back onto his lap, facing away, and slid down onto him again, they both gasped.

The angle was exquisite. Tighter. Deeper.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his head falling back. “Just like that.”

She braced her hands on his thighs and began to move—rolling her hips, grinding down. Her hair spilled down her back like black silk. He threaded his fingers through it, gathered it in his fist, then tugged.

She cried out in pleasure, her hips jolting in a more frantic rhythm. “Yes,” she gasped. “Again.”

Gideon grinned and pulled harder, making her moan.

She turned her head, her lips parted, begging for a kiss. He obliged, plunging his tongue into her warmth and delighting in it.

His hands slid up her torso, cupping her breasts from behind. His thumbs rolled her nipples in time with her rocking, and she cried out again, helpless and wrecked. He bent forward, brushing his lips down her spine, tasting sweat and skin.

“You were made for me,” he said hoarsely. “This body… it’s mine. You’re mine. ”

She let out a moan and rode him harder, her breath coming in broken gasps and whimpers.

He loved the feel of her—the weight of her breasts in his palms, her nipples against his thumbs, her soft bottom cradling his thighs, her intimate walls tightening around his cock.

All of it—all of her—was exquisite. He was barely holding on.

Then, she clenched again. Tight, hot… delicious. And that was it.

He came with her name on his lips, an unsuppressed growl escaping him. Pleasure ripped through him like fire as his arms locked around her waist, his face buried in her shoulder.

They stayed like that—tangled, slick with sweat, gasping—until their breathing slowed.

She leaned back against his chest, letting his arms cage her in.

“You’re shaking,” she whispered.

“I haven’t felt this alive in years.”

A pause, then her voice, soft and wicked near his ear. “Then we’ll do it again… until you get used to this feeling.”

He chuckled low and pressed a kiss to her neck. “Then we might never leave this bedroom.”

* * *

Blissfully sated, Leila went to the dressing room to clean up the fluids from her body.

The pleasure she felt in his arms was

unparalleled, and she wanted it never to end.

He was strong, skillful, gentle, and rough—all at the same time. Even in the two minutes it took her to clean up, she already missed him.

Hurrying back to the room, she paused by the remnants of the dress Grace had given her. “What am I supposed to wear tomorrow?” she asked with a smile.

Gideon rolled off the bed and walked toward her. He kissed her slowly, leisurely, pausing to breathe her in. “That question bothers me least of all,” he said. “I’d rather you always walk around me naked.”

She chuckled. “Around you, I might concede. But not around others.”

His arms tightened around her waist, then lowered to massage her bottom. “Nobody else but me.”

She smiled and rose on her tiptoes to press another kiss to his lips.

“I’m sure Lady Payne will find clothes suitable for you.”

Her cheeks pinked. “And what am I supposed to tell her happened to my dress?”

“You can tell her a ravenous wolf tore it in half and devoured you whole.”

She playfully slapped him on the shoulder. “Gideon!”

He kissed her again. “I love hearing you say my name.”

She nudged her nose against his. “Me too.”

He paused, licked his lips, a thoughtful glint in his eyes.

“What?” she prompted.

“Did you have a nickname for me?” he suddenly asked.

She blinked in surprise. What a shift in conversation. “What do you mean?”

“You once mentioned that you gave nicknames to people whose names you had trouble remembering,” he explained. “I was wondering if I’d earned one.”

You did. But that felt too intimate somehow, which was odd considering the things they’d shared, especially since he’d just been inside her. “No, your name is easy enough,” she said, though she doubted she sounded convincing as her cheeks flushed with heat.

“Gideon is easy?” he pressed.

“Wolverstone,” she replied. “A stone wolf.”

“So, in your mind, you called me Wolf? Rather boring. Benign,” he said with a little shrug, as if disappointed.

She laughed, loving his playful side. “Fine, yes, I do have a nickname for you.”

“What was it?” Genuine curiosity shone in his eyes, making him seem rather boyish.

“Bozkurt,” she replied, watching his face change with wonder.

He repeated the name silently, trying it on his tongue. “What does it mean?”

“It means Grey Wolf. And if you still think it’s benign and boring… it’s not,” she assured him. “For the Osmanli people, it symbolizes good luck, strength… and home.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, his voice low and breathy as he asked, “When did you first call me that?”

She licked her lips. “The moment I met you. You immediately reminded me of a grey wolf,” she said quietly. “With your silver hair, your predatory gaze, and the grace with which you move.”

“My predatory gaze?”

“The first time I saw you, you were watching Norfolk intently. Like a predator. A hunter. And then when you looked at me…” She paused. “I was ensnared right into your trap. You can be rather dangerous, Bozkurtim . Ruthless.”

“Is that how you see me?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.

“Sometimes,” she admitted without hesitation.

“And other times?”

“Other times, I think you’re quite tender.” She paused, recalling how irritable he had been in the tower and wanting to understand why. “But you haven’t been that way lately. You’ve been distant and irritable with me.”

His eyebrows rose, clearly surprised by her words.

“Come.” He took her hand and led her back to bed.

He settled against the pillows while she propped her head on his shoulder, careful not to touch his ribs.

He held her close, his fingers drawing soothing circles on her upper arm. “The way I’ve been lately has nothing to do with you,” he said.

“Is it because of the Brotherhood? Because we were on the run?”

“No.” He shook his head.

Leila raised her eyes to meet his. He was staring ahead, his gaze distant.

“What is it then?”

He let out a long sigh. “Pain.”

Leila stilled, concerned that she was hurting him. “Then we shouldn’t have— If your injuries still worry you this much—”

His soft chuckle interrupted her frantic words.

“No, my little panther.” The strange but affectionate endearment felt oddly comforting on his lips.

“Not that kind of pain. The pain that has accompanied me for the past fifteen years: the guilt, the loneliness, the weight of my failures. They’ve eased the more time I spend with you. ”

Leila didn’t know how to respond. That was… good, wasn’t it? “You… you want to feel miserable?”

“No,” he said emphatically, then let out a rough chuckle. “I very much don’t want that. But I feel as though the more time I spend with you, the more I’m forgetting Sarah.”

Leila didn’t understand what one had to do with the other. Sarah was part of his past, a part that shaped the man he was today—a part that had led him to her.

“Tell me about her,” she prompted.

Gideon turned his head sharply to look at her, surprise evident in his features. “You want to know about a woman I used to love?”

She nodded without hesitation. “Very much.”

He seemed to contemplate her request for a moment, and she waited patiently.

Finally, he settled more comfortably against the pillows and said, “Very well.” He paused again, as if pondering where to start.

“Sarah was… she was very gentle. She could never say a mean word to anyone; she couldn’t even hurt a flower.

Even when someone insulted her, she just smiled in response.

She had the softest hands I’ve ever touched, aside from my daughters’.

And she always wore a smile on her face. ”

She was very different from me. “How did you meet?” Leila asked, curious about how he fell in love with such a soft woman who seemed to not fit into Gideon’s harsh world.

“She was a family friend’s daughter,” Gideon replied. “Her father had estates adjacent to ours in Yorkshire.”

“So you knew her since you were children?”

He grimaced slightly. “Yes, in a way. We met at various social gatherings over the years. Our families were friendly, so we were friendly too, but we weren’t exactly friends. She was a few years older than me, and our paths didn’t often cross.”

“Then how did you fall in love?” She turned to face him fully, eager to hear his story.

Gideon smiled at the memory, though his smile was tinged with sadness. “Our parents arranged a marriage between us when I was one and twenty,” he said. “My father was on his deathbed and wanted to see me married before he passed.”

Leila blinked in surprise. “It wasn’t a love match?”

He shook his head. “Not at first, no.

“She was five and twenty at the time, and by society’s standards, well on the shelf,” Gideon continued.

“I never understood that. She was beautiful— a little shy, and she used to stutter in uncomfortable situations. But aside from that, she was genuinely lovely. She had kind eyes and a gentle manner. She should have had her pick of suitors during her first season, but she didn’t.

I was too young to even think about courting anyone.

Yet when my father brought up duty and heirs, I was eager to please.

” He paused. “And I enjoyed her company. In my opinion then, that was enough.”

“We accepted our marriage easily enough. Sarah was a wonderful partner; she never complained about my long absences or questioned my work. She was a perfect hostess when I needed her to entertain and managed the household efficiently. At that time, I was an ambitious young earl, newly inducted into the Shadows, full of my own importance. I was proud and always busy—we barely saw each other except at formal dinners and social functions.”

He cleared his throat. “But we needed to produce an heir. That was our duty, after all. So we… spent time together for that purpose. However, the more we tried for children, the more nights we spent just talking afterward. Gradually, we fell in love.”

Leila found herself smiling at the simple yet enchanting love story. She knew how it ended but set that aside for now. “That sounds lovely,” she said softly.

“It wasn’t like bolts of lightning and thunder,” Gideon continued. “Nothing like what the poets write about. It was easy and comfortable. We used to joke that we didn’t fall in love so much as settle into it. It was a quiet kind of love, built on mutual respect and growing affection.

“I was young then, and it was perfect for what I thought I wanted in a marriage,” Gideon said. “But I wish…” He trailed off, a grimace marring his beautiful face.

“What do you wish?”

“I wish I had spent more time with her. With them,” he said finally.

“My family. I think part of why I mourn them so deeply, for so long, is that I never truly got to know them. Not really. I spent very little time at home—always off on some mission, some grand purpose that seemed so important at the time. And if I spent too few nights with Sarah, I spent even fewer hours with my daughters.”

His voice roughened with emotion. “They were raised by servants, governesses, and nursemaids. I barely knew their personalities, their likes and dislikes. I don’t even know when they took their first steps or spoke their first words.

I always planned to spend more time with them ‘next month’ or ‘after this assignment.’ I thought we had forever. ”

Leila found his hand in the darkness, intertwining her fingers with his. “You couldn’t have known,” she said gently. “You chide yourself for believing you had an entire lifetime ahead of you, but most people think this way.”

“Yes,” he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I suppose most people do. I feel—I felt immense guilt for all of it. For letting them die, for allowing them to live so long with my absences. It was ingrained in my being. And now… the pain is easing. I’m not certain I deserve that.”

He did. She knew he did. But she also understood that her words wouldn’t make an impact. He had to come to this realization on his own.

“If I have more children someday,” he continued quietly, “I would do it differently. I wouldn’t let servants raise them.

I would feed them myself, bathe them, and tend to them when they were sick.

I’d want to know everything about them—their favorite stories, what makes them laugh, what frightens them in the dark.

I want it all, every mundane, precious moment I missed with Madeline and Emily. ”

They had beautiful names, Leila thought.

She was quiet for a long time, processing his words.

“See?” she said lightly, though her voice was rough with emotion for everything Gideon lost. For the lives of his precious wife and daughters.

“You don’t have to forget them to find happiness again.

You can tell me everything you remember about Sarah and the girls.

Every story, every memory. They’re part of you.

They shaped who you are, made you the man I…

” She paused, catching herself just before confessing to something she wasn’t certain was true, something that had been clawing at her chest for days.

She licked her lips and continued, “They’re part of your story. I want to know that story, all of it.”

A beat of silence passed as Gideon stared at her in wonder. Then he reached for her, his palm sliding around her waist and pulling her closer. She responded easily, her body molding to his.

He kissed her with exceptional gentleness at first, but the kiss quickly grew hungry. Moments later, they found themselves losing themselves in each other again, melding into one, sharing in the bliss.