Page 20 of The Duke’s Hellion (Duke Dare #3)

S tanding in front of the mirror, Mimi stood awaiting Sam’s return to his bedchamber.

Yes, his bedchamber in his house. After the dance, they had dried off and she had been whisked away to her new home.

By the time they arrived home, it was too dark for introductions of any kind.

And Sam had left her in his room to get ready while he went away and did…

well, she had no idea what he was doing.

And she had no idea what he was expecting.

It was their wedding night. She knew what was supposed to happen, and she knew what she wanted. Him.

This was her chance. Her choice. To remain brave in the face of real fear, in the face of rejection. She would offer herself to him, fully, and she could only hope that he would offer in return as much as he could. She would choose love.

She was wearing a translucent negligee that had been secretly packed in her trousseau by one of the women in her life who knew what was needed for the night.

A light tap on the door startled her, bringing her arms around her waist. But that wasn’t where she wanted them.

She wanted to portray her confidence, so she steeled her hands on her hips, nerves wrought with vibrating steel, as if someone had banged her with a hammer and left the reverberations to simmer through her.

“Mimi, are you—” Sam stopped mid-sentence, catching sight of her.

Visibly, she watched as the air was sucked from his lungs.

His eyes climbing her body from toe to head, ambling back down, and slowly, deliberately, crawling up again.

The only thing holding her up was an invisible cord through her spine attached to the ceiling.

She felt like a puppet, and somehow Sam was the marionette, controlling her from afar.

“You look…” His voice caught again as he stepped closer. His hands stroked her arm and she closed her eyes. “I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect you to—”

But she didn’t want him to finish his thoughts. She didn’t want to know. She just wanted him. Her eyes flew up and she rushed up on her toes, pressing her lips against his.

He was as surprised as she was, and he held her jaw in his hand to speak.

“Mimi, I—”

“I want this, Sam. I want you. You’re my husband. Show me what only a husband can do. Show me how a husband treats his wife.”

With a growl he picked her up. “You’re damn right I’m your husband. And I’ll show you what no other man can. What no other man ever will. You’re mine.”

It wasn’t a vow of undying love, but they were the words she needed in order to feel right about giving herself to him. If she offered herself up to him and he didn’t accept her gift, that would have devastated her, but here he was, ready, willing, able, and determined to make her his.

His lips were on the column of her neck, and she could feel her breasts rubbing against the single layer of unbuttoned linen that covered his chest.

His familiar scent of tea and whiskey, mixed with sandalwood permeated her body with something soothing yet wild. She wanted her body closer to him, to rub against every muscle of his, to feel his power and control.

His hands were on her bottom, squeezing and lightly kneading into her.

Opening her up. She could feel the muscles moving within her that she didn’t even know existed.

Remembering his passion and the way her body reacted to him, she let go of any outside thoughts.

There were no worries in his arms, no external problems to consider. No one to help. Only herself.

His lips were on her nipple, soaking through the light gauzy fabric. He hummed his appreciation of her turgid peaks and a swell of pleasure rolled through her. Shoving her hands under his shirt, she clawed at his shoulders, grazing her nails atop his skin.

He groaned his pleasure and thrust his hips up into her. She could feel the bulge in his breeches and wanted to rub against him. Over and over.

“I’m taking you to my bed now where I’ll do whatever I want with you.”

Yes. Yes. Yes. This was her fantasy. This was her dream. This was her reality.

Her lips found his as he brought them closer to the bed. After dropping her onto the bed, she whimpered her delight, and he pressed his body down upon her.

“Is this what you like? You want me to take you?”

“Take what’s yours,” she whispered, hardly managing the words.

His elbows braced her sides. “I will take what’s mine.” His teeth sunk into her neck, and she arched her back, forcing her nipples to cut into his rippling chest. His shirt was torn from his body and he sat up, untying and then peeling off her negligee.

His eyes grazed her body again, this time seeing her fully. “God, you’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen, Mimi.”

She didn’t allow herself time to reflect on those words, but stored them in her heart to cherish always. Instead, she reached up and pulled him closer to her, desperate for his heat. Urgently needing his lips upon her, and her hands roaming his body.

She caressed his neck and gripped tightly onto his biceps. She could feel him flexing his muscles beneath her grasp, the gesture pooled heat between her thighs.

His head dipped down her body and her stomach hollowed out. She could feel his breath on her most private parts.

“Sam?” It was a quaking plea. She felt crazed, needing, urgently, but unsure what he was—

“Oooooooh…” A moan flashed out of her lips. His tongue was licking her.

“You taste so sweet, Mimi.”

Her hands plunged into his hair, holding him in place. She never knew she would need this sensation, his tongue on her essence. He was feasting on her, devouring her, yet tenderly.

When his tongue stopped, she whimpered. But the beat lasted only a second before he was sucking on her pearl. And God, she didn’t want this ever to end.

Calling his name, she could feel herself tensing, but in the best conceivable way.

His stubble burned brilliantly against her groin, and she moaned again.

And then, as he continued to suck on her, he reached up and gently squeezed her nipple.

A flash of white tore through her like lightning in the darkest sky.

Pleasure rippled through her like thunder, and the rains of pleasure flooded her.

When he looked up at her, half-lidded, he said, “That’s my girl. Now you’re ready for me.”

Oh.

My.

God.

What had she gotten herself into? There was more? Her limbs were weak, but if there were more, she wanted it. She wanted it all.

“Yes,” she murmured. “I want you.”

He stood and dropped his breeches, and she watched as his cock bobbed out. He was thick and hard. And God, was he large. If she had her full senses about her, she might be convincing herself that he wouldn’t fit inside of her, but all she heard were his reassuring words. Now you’re ready for me.

Mimi regarded Sam’s manhood. What she had thought about the quiver could only truly be said about what she saw before her. This was the most incredible, singular piece of equipment she had ever seen.

So she rested on the bed while he placed himself at her entrance. He brushed his cock down her slit, pulling and pushing moisture at his will. She was so tender that each touch compelled her to moan.

“Open for me, Mimi,” he leaned over her body and whispered the words into her ear. The soft breath tickled her body all the way down her ribcage, and her legs fell apart further, widening for him.

His tip pressed against her, and it was the most captivating sensation she had ever felt. She was made for him, and as he pressed in, inch by glorious inch, she was only more and more convinced of that fact.

Her body wrapped itself around him, clenching him, as if to never let him go.

“God, you’re so tight, Mimi. You’re choking me.” His voice was ragged in her ear, but each time he spoke, she felt wetter.

“Tell me more,” she groaned.

“Mmm…” he moaned against her cheek. “So hot. So wet. For me. Take me in, Mimi.”

And now she knew that as much as she wanted him to take her, her body, as a woman, was meant to receive, and she wanted to take him into herself.

He grunted at the movement, found his breath again, and then thrust into her.

“Uhh…” she called out, at a loss for words. The pleasure was rampant inside of her. Around her. Encompassing only them.

“Come for me, Mimi. Again.” He called for her, commanded her, and her body responded. She could feel the base of his cock rubbing her pearl, pushing, pulling, teasing, giving. Relentlessly.

The intermingling of them screaming each other’s names wrenched the air, as release poured through them.

“Thank God, you’re my wife.” Sam’s last words embedded themselves in her brain as they collapsed in slumber.

*

When it rained, it poured. Sam knew it to be true, and he was floundering.

He was falling for Mimi. But he couldn’t be.

He needed to keep his wits about him. He would not—would not—turn into his father.

He would not be the kind to be so desperately in love with a woman that he was not in control of his own emotions and actions.

Yet…last night was shaping up to be an exception. Forget shaping up, last night was a pointed example of an exception. He had lost himself in her. The moment he saw her he knew he was gone.

He had to set some boundaries. And that was the plan this morning.

And God, there were a few boundaries that needed to be set.

He hoped that he could do so without too much trouble from his cousin, Rudolph.

They had arrived so late last night that there had been no time for introductions.

He only hoped that he could send Rudolph on his way without incident. If only he should be so lucky.

Sam sat at the breakfast table awaiting his wife as he planned how to manage Mimi. Just then, she walked in. He had expected her to sleep in, but then again, they had worked up an appetite.

“Good morning, Sam,” she said with a smile.

“Good morning, Mimi.” He could do this. Bed his wife at night and be friends—at best—during the day.

“How did you sleep?”

“Deeply.”

She eyed him curiously but there was no time to finish the conversation as Rudolph walked in. Without standing on ceremony, the man plopped himself down into a chair, not even claiming a morsel of food onto his plate.

The man was a walking irritant. A footman, who undoubtedly had been trained by Rudolph already, piled high a plate of food and placed it before the man.

Rudolph glanced over at Mimi, his gaze lingering significantly longer than Sam would have liked. In fact, if the man didn’t take his eyes off his wife—

“I love her.” Rudolph proclaimed. “I love her with an undying love.”

“What?” How could a man look at a woman and announce his love?

Undying or otherwise. It was not possible.

The first time Sam had seen Mimi he had not fallen in love.

Not even the second time. Third, fourth, and many more.

He was not in love with her even though he had taken her innocence and married her.

Well, he was as close to love as he was going to get, and it was far enough.

Love had no place in his life. He had been forced to concede to a marriage.

Not one that he wanted, but one that he could see working out quite nicely for all the parties involved.

Namely two. Then again, in the future there would namely be more…

and really, that didn’t seem so bad. Mimi would make a wonderful mother.

And he…well, he might just make a good enough father.

Forget that, he would make an excellent father.

Whatever he set his mind to, he would do. Or not do. That’s just how he was.

“Did you hear me?” Rudolph was shouting now. “I said I love her.” His arms were outstretched, pointing toward Mimi.

Hell, no. This man (he couldn’t deign to call him his cousin at the moment) had gone too far. It was one thing to threaten his life. It was a completely different thing to threaten to take his woman. Yes, Mimi was his. That was clear. But perhaps not clear enough to Rudolph.

Mimi stood stunned, not moving to the table. Or anywhere.

“I love her.” Rudolph shouted again. “You might think I’m crazy, but I shall have her. One way or another.” He stood to his feet, and if Sam thought for even a second that Rudolph would lay a hand on Mimi he would call the man ou—

Rudolph lunged toward Mimi. “You, good woman, have shown me the light.” He smacked his lips against her cheek and raised his finger into the air. “A wedding! Tomorrow. Or as soon as we can—”

“Over my dead body.” Sam was in his cousin’s face saying the words he never would have expected to cross his lips.

The words his father had spoken far too many times.

The words that had led to his father’s death.

The words that could lead to his own. But there were no greater stakes. “Name your seconds.”