Page 12 of The Marquess’s Stolen Bride (Dukes Gone Dirty #3)

12

M adeline dallied too long in the bathtub. The water was cold when she finally stepped out, but she sent her maid away before she could help her dress.

William was in her room.

She’d heard him come in, and he hadn’t left. He was waiting for her. And tonight was the night. She hastily tossed on her night-rail before she could lose her nerve.

Her husband had been patient. More than patient. He’d been supportive and kind, and…

And the least she could do was try to open up to him. To let him in.

There shouldn’t be barriers between a man and wife. At least, not if this was to be a true partnership. And that was what she wanted.

And she suspected he did, too.

She opened the door cautiously, her heart hammering. Perhaps she was too late. Maybe he’d already gone to his rooms.

But then she spotted him, sitting on the edge of her bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his head bowed.

She took another step in, and this time he heard her. His head came up with a snap.

The intensity in his eyes stole her breath. The hunger there made her belly tighten, heat pooling between her thighs in anticipation.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

There was something off about his voice. It was gruff and low, but…cold.

He didn’t sound anything like his normal warm self.

She shivered. But she wasn’t about to back out of her plan now. She would reveal herself to her husband—in every sense of the word, physically and emotionally.

He stood, and he looked like he was about to speak, but he stopped when she started to undress.

Her fingers trembled, and for a moment his confusion and shock were almost amusing.

Almost. They would have been if she wasn’t so very afraid.

This is William , she told herself. Your husband . There was nothing to fear. But her fingers still shook so violently that her attempts to shed herself of the thin, clingy fabric were clumsy.

But then she was standing there, bare and quaking.

He was silent for so long that she thought she might be sick.

“Madeline.” Finally, he growled her name and crossed to where she stood in two quick strides. And then she was in his arms. His grip was rough, his kiss harsh. But having his arms around her helped to quell the worst of her fear.

This was William.

This was her husband.

She was safe.

It was only when his hands came to her bared breasts that she flinched and pulled away before she could stop herself.

He froze. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s just…”

It’s just my mother tried to sell me, you see. It’s only that I was mishandled by a handful of men. I cannot forget the way it felt to have strangers touching me.

No words came out. How was one supposed to say something like that? And to a man who believed her to be pure and chaste.

You are pure.

Are you ? It was Foley’s voice in her head. It was his smug sneer she saw in her mind’s eye.

“Is it me then?” William’s voice was harsh as he stepped away from her. Picking up her night-rail, he tossed it to her. “Is it only my touch that is so abhorrent to you?”

She blinked in surprise at the icy tinge to his voice, the way his eyes snapped with anger.

Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak quickly enough. And then he was stalking past her to the bed where he’d been sitting. “No need to lie any longer, love.”

Her insides tumbled and churned at the snide way he used the endearment. That connection she’d felt between them, the bond they’d been slowly and sweetly forming…

It seemed to snap in a heartbeat.

“I-I’m not lying,” she said.

He threw a piece of paper at her. “Then what’s this?”

She blinked down at the crumpled paper. And for a moment, she was too confused to understand. But as she reached for it, she recognized it—and her heart slammed into her throat.

“Who were you writing to? Who do you expect to come and save you? Some lover?” William paced in front of her. She could all but feel the anger and tension rippling off of him, and it terrified her.

“My brother,” she whispered.

“What?” he snapped.

She stood slowly, wrapping the fabric around her. Never in her life had she felt more vulnerable and exposed than she did right now. In front of her own husband. But the way he was looking at her…

His look was that of a stranger. His warm eyes were cold and shuttered. His voice was barely recognizable. Where was the loveable drunk who’d stumbled into her room, or the chivalrous knight who’d stolen her from her cruel family? Where was the gentle, patient, loving husband who’d been so heartachingly respectful this past fortnight?

“M-my brother,” she repeated, her voice shaking along with her legs. “The letter was for him.”

He stopped pacing. “Your brother.”

“Yes.”

“Viscount Marlow,” he said.

“Yes, my—William.” Oh, blast. Tears were threatening, and she’d very nearly called him ‘my lord.’ But he did not seem to like her William now. He looked like a stranger.

The silence that followed felt like it might crush her, but she could not lift her head to face him. Until at last he spoke again.

“Did you mean it?”

Then her head came up and her gaze darted to his. The pain she’d heard in his tone lanced her heart as surely as a sword. “My lord?”

“The note,” he gritted out with impatience. “Did you mean it? Are you really so very unhappy here with me?—”

“No,” she said quickly.

He leveled her with a glare. “Then why did you write it?”

“I didn’t.”

Rage contorted his handsome features, and when he strode toward her again, she flinched. But he did not strike her. Of course not. He was not mad like her father nor cruel like her mother. He was…hurt.

Her lungs faltered at the sight of his pain.

“Do not lie to me, Madeline,” he said.

“I’m not lying.”

“You expect me to believe that this was not your note?”

She shook her head, her tongue tied in knots. “No. Yes. I mean, it was from me, but I did not write it.” She met his gaze. “I cannot write. Nor read.”

His chin jerked back as if this startled him. Shame had heat creeping into her cheeks. “My father believes it dangerous to teach women to write. My brother tried to teach me, but he was caught and beaten and?—”

His firm grip on her shoulders had her stopping short.

“Madeline, are you truly unhappy here with me?”

The pleading look behind that mask of anger made her heart feel like it was splitting in two.

She’d hurt him.

She’d hurt this man who’d been so very dear.

She shook her head, the words finally tumbling out of her mouth. “No, you don’t understand. I had someone write that for me when I was staying with Lord and Lady Fallenmore. Before we wed.”

His brows drew down, his gaze darting back and forth between her eyes like he could read all her secrets. “Why?”

“Because I was afraid,” she said. “You seemed kind, but I was afraid when we were alone together…” Her breath hitched on a sob. It seemed ridiculous now to even think that this man would hurt her. “I was afraid I would be trapped here.”

“With me.”

“Yes. But…” She sniffed, her voice pleading. “That was before, and I…I don’t want to leave. I never want to leave you.”

She saw a crack in that cold, hard armor he wore so well. “You don’t?”

“I don’t. Truthfully, I forgot it was in there. I’d had that doctor write it for me just in case…I wanted to know that someone would come to save me if you…if you…”

“If I turned out to be like your father?”

“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’m sorry, William. I should have destroyed it that very first night. You’ve been so kind to me, and I am so sorry?—”

“No.” All at once his coldness crumpled, and he pulled her into his chest, burying his face in her wet hair. “No, love. I am sorry. I should have just asked. I should have known there’d be an explanation.”

She gripped his face and brought his lips down to hers in a messy, frantic kiss that left her trembling in an altogether different sort of way.

“You are mine,” he whispered harshly between kisses.

“Yes.”

His lips were on her cheeks, her forehead, her neck, her shoulders. When he tugged the fabric away from her wet skin, she let him. This time she did not try to shield herself, and when his palms skimmed over her breasts, so gently, she arched into him.

“I want you to touch me,” she whispered. “All of me.”

I want you to make me forget.

She swallowed those words. But that was what she wanted, and she tried to show him with every eager kiss and every touch. “Make me yours completely,” she said. “I want this. I want…I want you.”

He groaned and then bent down to lift her into his arms. “My sweet little love.”

He set her down gently, and with his every breath he seemed to drink in more of her. His gaze took her in and despite her nerves, she refused to flinch away from his touch.

When his hand came down on her upper thigh, her hips arched up to meet him.

He chuckled. “So responsive, my sweet.”

Will she be a frigid little thing?

Who cares? The man with the beard had said, his gaze holding hers as he’d laughed. It’s all the better when they try to fight you off.

Oh, aye, his friend had laughed. Percer here likes to break ‘em. You like to hear ‘em beg, don’t you, you old dog?

She squeezed her eyes shut as if that could make the voices go away.

“No, my sweet.” Hayden’s fingers were gentle on her chin, his wrist brushed against her neck so her pulse pounded against his. “Don’t close your eyes. You have nothing to fear from me.”

She tried to nod, but that flash of memory had left her queasy.

“Make me forget.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

His brows drew together. “Forget what, love?”

She didn’t answer, but she saw him leap to the wrong conclusion. Guilt clouded his gaze. “My anger just now. Is that what you mean?” He muttered a curse aimed at himself. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I should know better. Your father… He was violent, wasn’t he?”

She nodded.

“Mine was, too.”

She blinked, taken aback by the admission as much as by the haunted look in his eyes.

“I would never hurt you like that. I would never?—”

“I know.”

He looked like he might continue to argue the point, but he looked into her eyes and nodded. “I suppose I ought to explain my…” He swallowed thickly. “My reaction before.”

She waited, her breath sounding too loud to her own ears.

“My father was mean,” he said simply. “And my mother could not bear it. She took a lover. I’d like to imagine it was someone kind to her. I hope she’d had that, for a little while at least.”

She lifted her hands, settling them on his shoulders. “And then?”

“My father found out. Murdered them both.”

She gasped. “Oh, William?—”

He leaned down and kissed her. “It’s all right. It was a long time ago. But then he remarried, and the woman was…well, she was a harlot. There’s no other way to put it.”

This time her eyes widened in shock. She’d never heard him sound so cold and disdainful, not even when he’d thought she’d betrayed him. “H-how so?”

“She was power hungry. More beautiful than you could imagine…and the most clever actress I’ve ever met. She had my father convinced that she was an innocent. Flirtatious and charming, but the very picture of demurity and piety around him.”

She swallowed hard, waiting for the next blow.

“But it was all a lie. I caught her making a cuckold of him. She knew he’d believe me over her, and so she set me up.”

“How?”

“She came into my rooms. Seduced me. I was still young, just barely a man. My body responded to her quickly, and…” He winced as he eyed her horrified expression. “Well, one moment I was asleep, the next I was tupping my stepmother. And she made sure we were caught.”

Madeline gasped.

“Not by my father, but by one of the servants. She paid them off, but she had her insurance. If it was ever her word against mine, she would win.”

“Oh, William, that’s…that’s awful.”

His smile was wry. “Not a pretty story, is it? But I thought you deserved to know. I don’t find it easy to trust. Especially women. And…” He pulled his head back so his gaze could meet hers. “I cannot share.”

The ferocity in his voice had her heart leaping.

He leaned down closer so he could read every emotion in her eyes. “Do you understand me, love? I will not have any other man touching you or looking upon you or…” He eased back. “I am not violent. I will never hurt you. But you should know here and now that I am not capable of forgiveness either. Not when it comes to a betrayal of vows or a breach of trust.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. That awful memory reared its ugly head, and for a moment it almost came tumbling out. The whole sordid tale. But she couldn’t do it. There was no way she’d risk seeing disgust in his eyes, not now when he was finally opening to her completely.

This was the man she’d wed. Complicated, tarnished…but hers.

“I won’t share you either,” she said instead. It was the only other truth she knew for certain. He was hers, just as she was his.

This made him smile. “No?”

She shook her head, her arms wrapping around his shoulders tightly. “I don’t want to share you either.”

He pressed his lips to her ear and took a long, shuddering breath. “Then you shan’t, love. I am all yours. And you are all mine.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. The words were as good as a vow. Better than the vow they’d made before their friends and the parson. This was a new commitment, and one she would not risk by exposing her own dark deeds.

He kissed her hard, and then he was shedding his shirt and leaning down over her until his hard chest brushed against her nipples.

She gasped at the sudden rush of sensation.

“Thank you for sharing your body with me,” he said. “I will cherish it. I will cherish you.”

“Ch-cherish?” she managed as his lips trailed over the top of her breasts.

“Mmm,” he growled, his gaze darting up, mischievous and playful as he took the hard nipple between his lips.

“Oh!” She squirmed at the sweet sensation, wriggling wildly at the influx of heat and tension. His warm breath on that sensitive nub made her shiver. And then his tongue lapped at the hardened peak as his devilish gaze lifted up to meet hers. “That’s…that’s…”

“That’s just the beginning, love,” he warned. “If I scare you, tell me, yes?”

She nodded. “But you won’t.”

“You sound so sure.”

She smiled, his lips on her skin seemed to be branding her as his, removing all trace of anyone else’s grasping hands. “I am sure.”

His grin was wolfish, and it made her insides clench. “Now, let me explore this delicious body of yours.” He growled his approval as he licked and nipped at the undersides of her breasts and then lower, taking his sweet time as he worked his way over her ribs and belly.

The scrape of stubble against her too-sensitive skin was a sweet torment as his tongue flicked out to taste her skin, dropping chaste little kisses along her ribs before tickling her belly with a nuzzling kiss that made her giggle even as she gasped for air.

All the while, he made his way lower, taking his time as he did as he’d promised. He cherished every last inch of her.

Her breath was coming in pants and her fingers were buried in his hair when he stopped at the dark thatch of curls between her thighs. He lifted his head. “I love this sweet little marker,” he said, a grin on his lips as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the small birthmark at the top of her right thigh. “This is mine,” he whispered, his hot breath against her curls bringing a jab of longing.

Her hips couldn’t stay still. There was a yearning sensation inside her that made her feel needier than she’d ever known. She ached to be closer, to feel fuller.

“Please, William,” she whimpered.

“Please what, love?” he teased, his nose and lips nuzzling at the soft skin of her inner thighs. “What is it you want, wife?”

She didn’t know. But her body ached with wanting, her hips arching off the bed as she silently begged for more.

“Mmm, more for me, eh?” he teased as he caught hold of her bottom, his fingers gripping the soft flesh of her cheeks as he lifted her hips higher, forcing her thighs further apart.

For a long moment he lie there with his face buried between her thighs. His breath was ragged and hot against her mons. He nuzzled her there with a growl that sent hot shivers down her legs and to her toes.

“William,” she pleaded.

His tongue flicked out suddenly, darting out to part her folds with a firm stroke that made her cry out. “Yes, love?” he asked, wicked amusement in his voice at the way she was coming apart in his arms.

Her head rolled from side to side as she wiggled beneath the hot torture of his breath.

“Please.” She tugged on his hair, trying to pull him up so he might thrust himself inside of her and relieve this ache. Her inner muscles were still clenching, desperate for the feel of him.

His low chuckle sent goosebumps over her skin.

“Greedy little kitten.” And then he kissed her.

Down there.

His mouth open, he kissed her parted folds with the same sort of wet, hot, messy fervor that he kissed her mouth. Her head fell back and her body arched as pleasure speared through her at the odd and exquisite sensation of his tongue and his lips moving over her womanhood.

“William!”

“I’ve got you, love,” he said as he continued to worship her sex. “This is mine, isn’t it?” He thrust his tongue inside of her and she screamed her response.

“Yes!”

He kissed the hard nub at the apex of her folds in satisfaction. “Good girl. Say it for me.”

She forgot all modesty as need swept through her. Her fingers gripped his head, holding him closer.

“It’s yours,” she panted. “I’m yours. My body is all yours.”

He lifted his head to smile at her. “That’s right, love. And don’t you ever forget.”

He buried his face between her thighs once more, and this time he thrust two fingers deep inside her as he ravished her quim. His fingers thrust again and again as she writhed beneath the assault.

He didn’t stop until she was writhing her release. And when she came back to earth, her legs trembling, she realized he’d done it.

He’d made her forget.

For a little while, at least, he’d purged her body and her mind of those nasty, haunting images. And as he slid up beside her and pulled her into his arms, she knew she’d meant every word of her vow.

Her body was his and his alone.

From now until forever.