Page 17 of The Iron Duke’s Flaming Christmas
Chapter 17
Selene paced the floor in her small room. She had barely touched her dinner. Her mind was whirring like a mouse on a wheel, as she debated what she should do that night. If she should meet the duke in the library at midnight… or if she shouldn’t.
I am a poor woman with little prospects in life. I may never have the chance to experience such passion again…
But Selene knew it was dangerous, and not proper. It went against all that she had been taught—that a woman must save herself for her husband.
She sighed heavily, staring at the floor. He had given her this choice—it was hers to make. If she went to that library tonight, she knew what was going to happen. Her eyes were wide open. And if it did happen, then there would be no going back. She could never undo it.
Her heart twisted. He could never marry her. The difference in their status was so great it was as if an ocean separated them. Dukes did not marry their governesses. They married high born ladies. It was the way of the world, and it would never change.
But even besides that, she didn’t know if she wanted to marry him, anyway. She didn’t know if she would accept him if he was at liberty to propose to her. She barely knew him, and he was a broken man. His heart belonged to his late wife. He lived in the past and he had no desire to drag his heart to the present.
This was physical desire and nothing more. He had never told her he loved her. He told her he desired her—and that he didn’t understand that desire any more than she did. He didn’t want to feel it. He had tried to fight it… as fiercely as she had tried to fight it. They both knew that this could not lead anywhere.
What was she going to do?
Selene bit her lip. It had been ten o’clock when she had passed the grandfather clock in the hallway. There were two more hours until midnight. Hours of torture, of pacing the floor… unless she made the decision now.
You know what you must do. You cannot give into this. You must go to bed and tomorrow you will pretend that he never asked you to surrender to him.
Her heart contorted with sorrow. She blinked back tears. The voice in her mind was firm and she must listen to it. It was the voice of her logic, her common sense.
She got into the narrow bed, pulling the blankets high around her shoulders, gazing up at the ceiling. A single tear trickled down her cheek. She knew she was making the right decision… but oh, how it hurt.
Quickly, she sat up, blowing out the candle. She was shrouded in darkness. She settled into the bed again, turning to the wall. Slowly, her eyes started to close. Slumber would be welcome, so she didn’t have to think about her choice any longer. So very welcome…
***
She was walking through a field of bright red poppies, turning her face to the sky, basking in the feeling of the sun upon her face. It was a bright, cloudless day. She didn’t know where she was, or where she was going.
She sighed with contentment, pressing her bare feet onto the ground, feeling the earth beneath them. Suddenly, she started twirling, dancing, with her arms outstretched, her face still turned to the sky, closing her eyes.
She knew he was there before she opened them again. She could feel his presence. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open, gazing at him, her heart contracting.
He was standing before her, dressed only in his white britches, his chest bare and glistening in the sun, his eyes smoldering, his face glazed with lust as he gazed at her. She felt a stab of answering desire. She wanted him… and she was giving herself to him.
He strode through the poppies, grabbing her, tilting her back in his arms, his mouth on her neck, nipping and biting. She shuddered in ecstasy, drawing him closer, pressing him against her, as he rained hot, fiery kisses down the length of her body, searing her flesh.
She was sinking into the poppies with him. They were falling together. He was on top of her, his body blocking out the sun. All went dark as she arched her back, letting him know how much she wanted this, how ready she was for him. So ready…
Selene gasped, bolting upright, her heart pounding. The dream was gripping her so tightly still that she swore it was real. She realized her body was trembling with desire—a thirst so strong that it seemed impossible to quench it.
Quickly, she got out of bed, feeling as if she were still in the grip of the dream, or as if she were ill, consumed with high fever. She had no idea what time it was. Perhaps she was too late. Perhaps he had waited for her in the library and left, thinking she wasn’t coming.
Desperately, she tore out of the room, her heart pounding harder. She didn’t care any longer that it wasn’t proper or sensible or that it was dangerous. She didn’t care about anything but getting to him before it was too late.
The grandfather clock chimed midnight as she ran down the hallway toward the library, tearing into the room, breathless. She gazed around, wide eyed. For one stricken moment, she thought he had left, or perhaps that he had never come.
But then, she saw a movement, out of the corner of her eye. She turned, gasping. He was slowly walking toward her, dressed only in his britches and a white shirt, which was unbuttoned, exposing his chest. His dark hair was tousled and falling into his eyes. She had never seen him in such a state of undress… except in her dream.
She shuddered with desire. The reality standing before her was even more powerful.
“You came,” he said, in a husky whisper. “It has been agony waiting for you… I thought you had decided against it…”
His voice trailed away as his eyes swept over her, taking in her flimsy white night attire, her hair hanging loose down her back. With one step, he closed the gap between them, grabbing her and pulling her toward him. His mouth found hers, his lips searing her own, opening her mouth with an urgency that crashed upon her like a giant tidal wave.
He pushed her against a bookshelf, his hands hungrily seeking her breasts through her nightgown, kneading them frantically. And then they were toppling and crashing through the room, and he was pushing her against a desk, his hands sliding up her bare legs, gathering her nightgown around her hips.
They stared at each other, panting, for a moment. His eyes were blazing with desire, half dazed. She felt a stab of yearning passion, unlike anything she had ever felt before, tearing its way through her body.
He moaned, dropping his head, his lips searing her neck, before moving down. He grabbed the bodice of her nightgown, tearing it aside, so that her breasts spilled out, the rosy nipples hard. He dipped his head, taking one of them in his mouth, suckling her, pulling it deep into his mouth.
Selene gave a strangled gasp, clawing at the desk, as the most intense sensations washed over her, radiating through her body. Her head tipped back, and a hot sweat broke over her flesh, like a fever.
She had never imagined that such passion was possible. Her heated dreams of being with him were a pale shadow compared to this.
His head dipped lower, his lips burning over her abdomen, moving lower still, reaching between her legs, burying deep. She gave another strangled gasp as she felt his tongue connect with her hot, wet sex, lapping and licking her. The sensations intensified.
Everything was turning to a brilliant white light, as she strained against his mouth, moaning loudly, seeking something, some kind of release, that she didn’t understand…
She cried out, her eyes opening wide in shock, as the sweet agony suddenly reached a peak, roaring through her, with such fury her body bucked and writhed beneath his mouth.
He was clambering on top of her, fumbling with his britches, pushing her legs wider… and then, she cried out again, as he slid his stiff, hard manhood into her body.
Their eyes met and held. She felt as if she were looking into his very soul.
He started moving slowly at first, then with increasing speed, sliding in and out of her. The rhythm was so good, so primal, that her hips rose to meet him, urging him on, straining against him.
The sweet sensations flickered to life again and she was climbing toward that peak once more, with a ferocity that took her breath away.
Her head started tossing from side to side. She moaned again, raising a hand to her mouth, biting hard on it, trying to stop herself from screaming. He dipped his head, attaching his mouth to her neck, biting her, as he moved faster inside her, grabbing her hips to push her higher against him…
Suddenly, he contorted, twisting above her, raising his head, his face contorted and glazed with lust. She felt a hot, sticky wetness flood her as she peaked again, crying out, twisting beneath him. She was falling and crashing into the very center of the earth.
She would never be the same again…
Selene blinked slowly, opening her eyes. They were tangled together on the desk—he was lying across her, not moving, his body slick with sweat. Carefully, she extracted herself, realizing that she was trembling from head to toe. He didn’t move.
She glanced at his face. His eyes were closed, and his face was in repose, frozen with a look of sheer bliss.
Quickly, she left the room, running down the hallway and the stairwell to the servant’s quarters, looking around fearfully. But the house was silent and still and there was no movement. She was in no danger of being caught—everyone had retired.
When she finally reached her room, she closed the door, taking a deep, shuddering breath. Her whole body felt different.
It wasn’t just the soreness between her legs, the legacy of their passion—it was as if her skin was tingling; as if she had shed a layer of it, and she was raw, had been born again—transformed into another woman.
She crawled into bed, pulling the blankets high, turning to her side. She still couldn’t believe it. The ferocity of her desire for him, spurred on by that burning dream, had led her as if by a string to the library, as if she had no free will at all. She had been enslaved to it and couldn’t have stopped it at that point even if she had tried.
It is done. It was always leading to this. Only a fool would have not realized it. My maidenhood has been taken by the Iron Duke… and I will never be the same again.