Page 18 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke (Duke Wars #2)

CHAPTER 18

F inally. Finally, Gabriel held her within his grasp. She resisted at first, and expectedly so, frozen in place as he stalked across the library to take her down.

But the moment he coaxed her face upward, the moment he could fully engross himself within the brilliant gleam of those emerald-cut eyes, was the moment instinct took over.

His body moved of its own accord, slowly disabling her from any chance of fleeing from him, and as soon as her arms settled securely against his shoulders, he finally went in for the kill.

The kiss started slow and deep, his hands remaining securely around Thalia so she could fully enjoy it. It was a mere preview of what was to come; exploring territory, if he were to put it so crudely. Her taste was addictive, floral and oily from whatever paint remained stained on her skin.

He pulled free eventually, excitement trembling through his body as she inhaled deeply, then gasped sharply while he leaned across to nip her in the ear. A light, playful bite; nothing so egregious that he may scare her away just yet.

A groan slipped free from his throat as her nails dug into his back, and he took it as a sign to continue his exploration. From the line of her jaw down to the nape of her neck, Gabriel tenderly pressed his lips against her skin, resisting the urge to bite her there and then.

Her chest was far too exposed, far too publicly available; he wouldn’t mark her just yet. Not just yet. Not until she begged and pleaded, his sweet little rabbit.

Suddenly, her hands pressed against his face, and Thalia caught him in another dizzying kiss. His tongue snaked about, recoiling as Gabriel himself pulled away with a pained hiss.

A coppery tang coated his wounded tongue, and he couldn't help but raise a brow. She looked ready to apologize, but he stopped her with his lips, not wanting whatever trance they’d fallen into broken by spoken words.

Nipping prey was not something he ever expected himself to enjoy, and yet, he hoped feverishly she’d dare to take another bite out of him.

He lifted her towards the back of the room, hands drifting past her waist as he secured her firmly against a bookshelf. He found new purchase against her chest, now that she had something firmer against her back, and he slipped his fingers beneath her bodice, fingertips brushing lightly against her nipples.

Another gasp escaped Thalia’s lips, and her legs gave out beneath her, forcing Gabriel to hold her completely in his embrace. “My, my. That small amount wounds you so?” he crooned, kissing her exposed neck.

Thalia’s hands grasped at his arms, her nails digging as she continued to pant.

“Poor little rabbit. No one has treated you before, have they?” Gabriel couldn’t help but smirk, removing his hands so one could secure comfortably around her waist.

The other, meanwhile, drifted across her leg, disappearing beneath her skirt before he settled his palm against her inner thigh.

“Say the word,” he whispered, giving her ear another gentle nip. “I’ll do nothing further unless you do.”

Her body stiffened briefly, her hand covering her waist as wide eyes glanced up towards his. It was a wide range of emotions—desire, terror, hesitancy—and she was looking to him for the answer.

“The gift of trust is yours to give, Thalia,” Gabriel emphasized softly. “I cannot take it from you.” He watched her eyes light up with… surprise? Delight? Lust? But his hands remained—one around her waist, one against her leg—and he waited.

“Higher,” she finally moaned.

“Are you certain?”

She nodded, stretching her neck for another brief, tender kiss. “Yes, please .”

And in that confirmation, Gabriel obeyed; his hands drifted farther up, carefully exploring her as if she were new, uncharted lands. Her breath began to hitch, her chest heaved, and his free hand slipped up the length of her waist, catching her breast as he finally found her sensitive nib.

Another gasp, another groan, and as he massaged her gently, Gabriel could feel warmth spreading between them, her posture stiffening as pressure no doubt built within her. He felt it himself, pressing against his trousers and desperate to be freed—but this moment wasn’t about him. He wanted this to be about Thalia.

It didn’t take long for his little rabbit to cry out, her whimpering and moaning climax a beautiful sound of found desire. And as she relaxed, as she pressed into his chest and both of his hands secured around her waist, something warm pulsed throughout his chest.

She was perfect. God above, she was everything he wanted and more.

…don’t let emotion…

Whatever warm haze had built between them froze and shattered. Gabriel immediately loosened his hold around Thalia, having enough sense to ease her gently to the ground.

As soon as she was safe, his arms recoiled to his side, a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. What was he doing? Had his own instinct just completely betrayed his father’s trust in him?

He watched Thalia on the ground for a moment, beautifully sprawled out like the wounded rabbit she was. Her chest heaved heavily, her face flushed from their interaction as she visibly wrestled air back into her lungs.

A pang of guilt shot through him, and Gabriel had enough sense to offer a hand and help her upright. And then, silence. She continued to breathe, and he simply listened; not a word was spoken between them.

A knock on the door brought clarity back to Gabriel’s senses, and he cleared his throat before answering. “Come in.”

The door creaked entirely too slowly for his liking, and his absolute worst nightmare stood on the other side; Robin Sutton, finally roused from his sleep, stared at the pair of them with a slightly befuddled expression.

Before realization could further sharpen his gaze, Gabriel quickly moved to greet him, speaking in hushed tones as to not alert Thalia—or give them further away. “I told you to wait in my study for your report.”

“Charlotte sent me this way,” Robin hissed back. “Though, perhaps I should return later? I seem to be…” he paused, glancing around the duke as Thalia found interest in the point of her shoes. “Interrupting something.”

He wanted nothing more than to slam the door in his face. Hell, the boy deserved at least a swift punch to the face for his insolence. But that would mean Gabriel had emotional investment in… whatever had occurred between himself and Thalia just now. That thought alone soured the duke’s stomach. “Five minutes. My study. I’ll be keeping time.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Gabriel inhaled slowly, quelling his own bubbling rage, and shoved past Robin, doing everything in his power to keep his footsteps light and not simply storming away like a disheartened schoolboy.

* * *

She bit him. She bit the Duke of Stonewell right on the tongue. Thalia nearly doubled over in absolute shame as she watched her brother and her… her suitor? Her accomplice? Her forbidden lover? She couldn’t rightly say who Gabriel Harding was to her, anymore, only that he was currently in heated discussion with Robin.

Oh, God, was he telling him about her indecency?! But, she hadn’t even initiated it—at least, she was fairly certain she hadn’t.

Once their lips locked, things became a whirl of thoughts and feelings, of hot breath and warm skin, of a deep, throbbing ache that screamed to be soothed by the duke’s full and undivided attention.

And—and even if she had initiated it, the duke seemed more than willing to oblige her. More than willing. In fact, he looked almost desperate. As desperate as she was. Or at least she hoped he did.

Finally, he left the library, leaving her brother standing beneath the door’s frame. His attention immediately fixated on her, and she found herself unable to meet his gaze.

How could she, knowing what she’d done? How could she, after staring so long into Gabriel’s—the duke’s—own eyes long enough to memorize every detail? Everything had felt so right mere moments ago, and now, it all felt horribly wrong.

“I’m not going to ask, you know.”

Thalia’s head shot upright, completely taken aback.

Robin had entered the library fully now, having reached the writer’s desk where the frog-faced bust laid beneath. He’d propped himself against the edge, arms crossed loosely against his chest, and breathed a heavy sigh. For himself? For Thalia? Perhaps for the both of them, as life had only continued to throw trials and tribulations their way.

“R-Robin.”

“I’m not going to ask, because it’s none of my business.” Robin’s expression softened from his once-dark scowl, and he seemed genuine now as he spoke. “God knows you’ve put too much of yourself aside. For our father, for Giles, for m–” His voice caught in his throat, and he hastily shook his head. “If… whatever just happened in here brought you happiness, I shouldn’t be the one to shame you for it.”

Thalia blinked, touched by the sincerity of her brother’s words. But she was still on edge, waiting for the inevitable “but” he wanted to add.

“But–”

Her shoulders sank, her stomach souring at the word.

“But I want you to promise me you’ll be careful around him,” Robin finished. “The duke—he’s not all he presents to us. He has secrets—dark ones—and I don’t want you getting hurt because of that.”

Now it was Thalia’s turn to breathe deeply. For herself…for Robin… the both of them, she supposed. “You seem well-versed in his darker machinations.”

Robin’s lip thinned, his arms tightening against his chest.

“I won’t ask, either.” Thalia crossed the room, gingerly wrapping her arms around her brother for an embrace. “But I would ask for the same caution you’ve instilled unto me. Be careful, Robin; you’re my entire world.”

Robin remained stiff for a moment, hesitant in his next action. Eventually, his arms loosened, and he freed them from under Thalia, wrapping them around her back to fully hug his sister.

“Three more days,” Thalia offered softly. “Three more days, and the duke will have kept his end of the bargain. I don’t know how he’ll do it,” she added. “But I’ve learned quite quickly that the Duke of Stonewell is a man of his word.”

Robin nodded, resting his head between the crook of her neck. “Three more days.”

“Three more days,” Thalia repeated, hugging him tighter than she ever had before. Three days, and she would be lucky enough to even pass the duke on the streets of London.