Page 28 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke (Duke Wars #2)

CHAPTER 28

I t was decided that moment had been, without a doubt, Thalia’s worst idea to date. And she hadn’t even consciously made the decision. But now, as Gabriel led her across the gallery grounds and towards the furthest back lot, she wondered what terrible words he had in store for her.

Perhaps if she were lucky, he’d allow her the chance to go home and pack her things. That was, of course, if she survived this encounter with him, first.

Gabriel brought them to what appeared to be a makeshift stable, set aside for carriage horses who may have come a great distance to visit the gallery today. Stalls were filled with gentle braying and the sweet scent of hay, the constant drip of rain falling off its roof as the storm only worsened.

Thalia quickly took shelter beneath the stable, doing her best to wring her dress free of water. As she bent down to squeeze out the hem, she found Gabriel already on his knees in front of her, wet material gathered in his hand as he, instead, wrung it dry.

“G-Gabriel…?”

Slowly, his hands worked up the length of her dress, pressing water free before settling against her waist. Something about him was entirely different from before; whatever anger or resentment he held had seemingly vanished, washed away by the rain during their walk over. His eyes no longer looked cruel and cutting, his expression no longer etched with hate. Thalia blinked, uncertain as to what she was meant to do.

“I wasn’t fully honest last night, Thalia.” He moved to stand, one of his hands moved to gently sit against her face; it was cold, soaked still from the rainwater he’d squeezed from her dress, and yet Thalia found herself leaning into it entirely.

“There was more I needed to say, but…” his voice lingered, clearly struggling to say his piece. “I allowed my cowardice to come between us.”

Thalia’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. “‘Cowardice’ is not a word I thought you held in your lexicon, Gabriel.”

He sighed lightly, stroking her cheek as his arm tightened around her waist. “What you just did… what you’ve done for my sister…” his face leaned in closer, his breath warm and causing a flush of heat across Thalia’s cheeks. “I don’t want you to misunderstand me this time. I don’t want etiquette or polite speech to stop us from a complete understanding.”

“U-Understanding?”

He was so close; a drop of rainwater fell from his face and settled against Thalia’s lips. She suddenly felt far too warm, knowing full well that she should pull away, that she shouldn’t allow him to make the same mistake.

“My goals have always been around the hunt, Thalia. The chase, the cornering, the inevitable devouring.” He pressed his body against hers, forcing them against the stable’s wall as his hand ran through her hair. “Every part of my life plans in such a way, and yet…”

“And yet?” She asked, breathless.

Gabriel’s lips hovered between hers, hesitating, before settling into a long, tender kiss. More rainwater from his hair speckled against her face, and Thalia’s hands reached out to caress against his face, to hold him steady as he fully explored her. His hand slipped up the length of her back, pulling lightly against the strings of her bodice.

“G-Gabriel.”

“I want this,” he insisted. “I long for you, Thalia Sutton.”

Thalia turned her head, unable to meet such an intensive gaze. “I… b-but Gabriel?—”

“I can’t say I’ll be willing to marry you so quickly,” Gabriel said. “I can’t say the idea will never bring me discomfort. It could take months, or years—but I can’t let my weakness push you away, Thalia.” He lightly kissed her again, pulling away and brushing stray droplets of water from her face. “I am broken inside, Thalia. No more a predator than you are prey. I—” He swallowed, visibly shaken. “I am afraid. Afraid to be… to be…”

“Vulnerable,” Thalia finished softly.

He kissed her once more, pressing against her while pulling at the laces again. Her hand reached behind, helping undo the bodice as the dress loosened significantly around her waist, her bosom, her shoulders. Gabriel’s hands were quick to grasp the hem of the neck, to pull it down enough to expose Thalia’s glimmering chest, wet from rain and growing perspiration. Again, his fingers worked to undo the corset’s lacework; again, Thalia helped him.

It fell open entirely, her nipples perked from the cool, humid air. Gabriel immediately bent over, kissing the top of her chin to the nape of her neck, slowly working his way towards her chest.

A shiver of pleasure ran through Thalia, anticipating building in her core as he teased her. She closed her eyes, her head tilted upright, and waited for the moment of contact. Then, suddenly, she felt his lips around her, a shiver skittering across her skin as a whimper slipped free. “G-Gabriel…!”

His hand slipped across, caressing her other breast as he continued to kiss each peak. Each brush was like a thousand currents racing through her; Thalia thought it impossible to feel this way again, especially after his performance in the library. But this—it was somehow even greater, the thrill of his touch clashing with the anxiety of being discovered. A crack of lighting blinded the sky, and the rumbling thunder trembled through her legs.

“You were mine to hunt, little rabbit,” Gabriel crooned. “And I’m not yet done with our game of chase.”

Another bolt cascaded through the sky, and as Gabriel’s hands stroked and teased and pinched, Thalia found herself a mess. Her soft whimpering had grown to pleasurable moans, and as his teeth found purchase against her nipples, a familiar chain of explosive activity flooded her system. Lighting blinded her already-spinning senses, and the thunderous boom shook her trembling frame until she collapsed into Gabriel’s arms completely.

“Our deal has changed,” Gabriel whispered, lips drawing toward her ear as his breath tickled against her skin. “This courtship is now very real, Thalia Sutton.”

She exhaled, heat rising throughout her body, and she found herself stealing an unexpected kiss from Gabriel. Fueled on by euphoria, Thalia clenched her teeth gently around the duke’s prying tongue, drawing blood that drifted between them. Gabriel refused to let go this time, refused to let her win. And, in that moment, Thalia was more than happy to play the game alongside him.

* * *

It was a good ten minutes or so before Gabriel considered stopping. He might have gone… a touch too far, given the state to which he’d brought Thalia, and a large part of the time was spent simply cooling her flushed face.

It had been ages since Gabriel had intentionally lain across a pile of hay, and even longer since he had a woman curled up against his chest (he’d forgotten how quickly his arm numbed, being used as an impromptu pillow).

But the way Thalia looked right now—her hair let down, gently splayed across her heaving chest and shaping the delicate curves of her waist—he’d willingly sleep in hay for the rest of his life.

Her head shifted slightly, then settled against his chest once more, eyes fluttering as raindrops plunked against the shed’s roof. “I’m not sure I want to leave.”

“I wouldn’t object to exploring you further,” Gabriel chuckled, hand tucking a loose strand of hair away from Thalia’s face. Gracious, but those eyes…he really could get lost in them, as encompassing and deep as the emeralds on a crown.

Thalia lifted her neck, a teasing scowl across her face as she gave him a light shove against his chest. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

He did know it. Gabriel knew very well what returning to the party meant; hand in hand, with warm, affectionate looks and an obviously closer proximity than before. Rumors he could handle, but the idea of genuine courtship… of no longer playing the role of suitor, but becoming one entirely.

“No one would dare say a word.”

“Oh, Your Grace,” Thalia giggled lightly, her hand gently brushing against his cheek. “My reputation is the farthest thing from my mind, as of late.” She shifted her upper body a top of his, lounging across as her head nuzzled beneath his neck. A soft sigh escaped her lips, eyes downcast as her fingers traced one of his vest buttons.

Gabriel sat upright, arm around her waist as he propped himself against the barn’s wall. “It’s a bit too late to grow quiet now, little rabbit,” he said. “What are you thinking about?”

Another gentle sigh as Thalia leaned fully into Gabriel’s embrace. “You spoke of vulnerability earlier. Being afraid… it sounds silly, thinking about it now.”

“Elaborate.”

Thalia’s brow furrowed slightly. “I… it sounds terribly cliched. But, I’m afraid this is a dream I’ll have to wake up from. That we’ll get ready for the art gallery, remain pleasantly distant from each other, and then…” she met his gaze, eyes already misty.

“Are you worried about my aversion to marriage?”

She hesitated, then nodded slowly.

“You have every right to be,” Gabriel insisted. “This is hardly an arrangement we can maintain, regardless of your care for reputation.” He gently plucked a strand of hay from her hair, kissing her forehead lightly. “I… don’t want to hurt you, Thalia. And I certainly will not use you.”

Thalia’s grip tightened against his vest, hands trembling slightly.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he continued. “About marriage, about showing any level of… vulnerability.” He chuckled, hand running down the length of her hair.

“I hardly see what’s so funny.” Thalia pulled herself somewhat away, expression far more stern than Gabriel expected. “This is the bravest thing I’ve seen you do to date, Gabriel Harding, and I will not have you diminish it.”

Gabriel went to laugh again, but the way Thalia stared into him, the way her expression remained unmoving; she was entirely serious. His laughter petered away, the somewhat forceful nature of his smile softening. “You prefer this over the man you met during the ball?”

Now it was Thalia’s turn to snort with laughter. “Oh, no; I’m afraid you’ve done something quite irreversible to me, Your Grace.” Her eyes narrowed, a mischievous glint catching across her eye as she leaned in closer to Gabriel’s face. “I’m no stranger to fear, but the way you use it is… something entirely different.” She exhaled, visibly exhilarated, and Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat.

“You genuinely enjoy it?” he asked.

Thalia inched closer, teasing him terribly with those beautiful lips of hers as they slightly pursed. “I think… it’s the power I wield as well. If I told you to stop…”

“I would do so in a heartbeat.”

Thalia’s expression warmed, placing a gentle kiss against Gabriel’s lips. It turned into something deeper, something with quite the literal bite against his tongue. Genuine laughter escaped Gabriel’s throat this time, and he took her to the ground, pinning her hands against the hay as her legs curled beneath his chest.

“You have a terrible habit of nibbling, little rabbit,” he growled.

Thalia’s face flushed, head tilting as a coy smile crossed her face. “Why don’t you show me a proper bite, Mister Wolf?”

Hot blood rushed through Gabriel’s veins, and he reminded himself to keep any injury he might cause easily hidden. “What should I listen for, in case we go too far?”

Thalia’s breath hitched, legs twisting beneath him once more. “I—y-you would never. I would never ask you to.”

“It’s for your safety,” Gabriel protested softly. “And for my ease of mind. If I ever hurt you, even if you think you wanted it…”

Thalia’s smile was like the sun poking through the storm. One hand wriggled free from his grasp, and she gently stroked against Gabriel’s cheek. “Ramps, then. I’ll say ramps if I feel unsafe.”

Ramps. Gracious, but he was going to have a hard time associating them with anything but this moment for quite a while. “Alright, then.”

* * *

It was like day had shifted suddenly to night; the moment affirmation had left Thalia’s lips, they were utterly consumed by Gabriel’s once more in a deep, reaching kiss. He forced her beneath the weight of his frame, hay cushioning her body as his entire being–his presence–pressed heavily down upon her.

His hands were around her once more, feeling between the loose ties of her bosom before fingers once more slipped between, fondling her breasts and teasing the rigid nipples. A startled gasp escaped her at his speed; already, she felt ready to give herself entirely.

“Not this time, little rabbit.” His hands withdrew, trailing up the length of her neck as he applied slight pressure. Gracious, but she was already having a hard time breathing–!

“I want you to hear you work for every gulp of air,” Gabriel murmured, pulling her lips into another kiss. “Want you to feel every subtle flick of my wrist, every twitch of my finger.” His thumb pressed against the front of her throat, and she could feel air bobbing beneath the increasing pressure. “Every breath you take is one I allow, little rabbit.”

Thalia’s own fingers curled beneath the hay, nipples perked and aching for his touch once more. But the grasp around her neck was something… entirely new. Dangerous, yes; if he wanted to, he could close his grasp and restrict her breath in its entirety.

“Beg for me, little rabbit,” Gabriel crooned, applying more pressure against her throat. “Beg for life as I bite clean through your neck.”

Thalia’s gasp was ragged, air dragging against the narrowing windows and burning in her lungs in a desperate bid. “S-Stop–please, I–!” Her hand shot around his arm, fingers clawing across his suit jacket’s sleeve as she managed a breathless moan. His hold loosened for a moment, a flicker of concern briefly crossing his eyes.

“What’s the word?” he asked.

Her legs curled up against his back, and Thalia’s hands ran down the length of his arm, squeezing his wrist as a tingling rush filled her head. It was like falling from a great height, dizzy euphoria that spun around her head and left her, somehow, more breathless than before. Her eyes found his, hands remaining around her neck, but only as a lingering threat. He was waiting; he wanted to hear her affirmation.

“R-ramps,” she managed with a ragged hiss. She was struggling, yes—fighting against his hold, fighting to breathe underneath the entirety of his presence—but it was exhilaration. She dug her nails into his exposed flesh, earning a pained hiss from Gabriel himself.

“Naughty rabbit,” he growled, grasping her wrists and forcefully pinning them across the hay. “Who said you could fight back?”

Thalia struggled briefly, still gasping through a haze of light-headedness. He leaned into her, lips pressing against the now-sensitive parts of her neck and nipping between every kiss or so. He was going to ruin her; again, her knees pressed against his back, an uncontrollable spasm striking him harder than she’d anticipated.

But he persisted, dragging his teeth across her chin and catching her bottom lip before forcing her head to lean into him, else risk a painful bite. He kissed her, stealing what precious breath she had left, and suddenly, his hand shifted, slipping beneath her skirt as his fingers brushed against her inner thigh.

She moaned terribly. His hand lingered. “Our word…?” he crooned, lips nipping at the lobe of her ear.

“Ramps,” Thalia whimpered. “I r-recall it.”

She let out a startled gasp, his fingers suddenly pushing past her folds and teasing her clit. He massaged the area gently, waiting, giving her the chance to use her own power against him. Her answer came in the form of another kiss, teeth trying to catch his tongue before he pulled just out of reach.

“Naughty rabbit,” Gabriel growled.

His fingers pushed deeper past, sending Thalia into a state of frenzy. Slowly, he began to work her, exploring her, each twist and thrust sending her into uncontrollable shivers. Her hands reached out to grasp his arm once more, but his free hand grasped her wrists instead, pinning them against her chest as he did his work.

He was entirely in control–of her breath, her body’s reaction–all she could do was cry out, writhe beneath his touch, his pressure, his entire being. A building pressure radiated from his fingers, skittering across her skin, piercing her every nerve in a way their previous encounters hadn’t. It built—God, it was entirely too much to handle—and as her final, desperate cry rang throughout the stable, she fell apart entirely. Breathless, spinning, tingling… and in his curving arms.