She nodded furiously, unsure if she was floating on waves of pleasure or on fire.The settee below her had disappeared.The only thing she perceived was his fingers.Rightthere.She saw only his exultant gaze as he watched her expressions and reactions.His fingers shifted again, back and forth, circles, and her eyes closed, unable to use any senses except experiencing his touch.Her hand still gripped his arm, but now it was as a lifeline rather than to stop him.
Pressure and pleasure built, the threat of pain falling away as she became accustomed to his caresses.Tendrils of sensation climbed from their point of contact like vines, up her torso to curl around her breasts and harden her nipples against her chemise.
Suddenly, it all stopped.His forefinger dropped to toy with her womanly opening and that created a budding ecstasy all its own.But that, too, stopped after a few prods.
“Xander,” she gasped, opening her eyes to plead with him.“Please.”
“More?”
Lord above, he’d said he’d check in every ten strokes.“More.”
His thumb slid against her nub, newly wetted with her moisture.Ah, gads, she was going to explode.If he stopped again before she understood where this was leading, she might kill him.Panting, she begged, “Don’t…stop…”
He didn’t; instead, he sped up.
Every muscle in her body clenched.Evie keened through teeth clamped together as her flesh quivered and imploded, those vines of sensation constricting her organs and limbs to squeeze out every ounce of pleasure.Gasping for air, she tightened her legs around his hand as fire flashed through her and her nails dug into his arm through his shirt.She didn’t know whether she wanted to keep him where he was or yank his arm away.
When it all became too much, he gentled his touch, slowed, and stilled.
“Magnificent, Evie.Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of giving you pleasure.”
Her eyes fluttered open in time to watch him tug his hand out of her clothes and raise it to his mouth to suck the fingers that had been on her most intimate parts.Another streak of fire flashed in her belly.
He smirked at her wide eyes then straightened her skirts.His hands took one last caress over her exposed breast and unbuttoned dress before he leaned back to allow her to right herself.
He’d thanked her, when she should be thanking him.How very undukelike.But exactly what she wanted in a husband.
Now that he’d taught her some pleasures of the marriage bed, she couldn’t think of a reason to delay indulging them.She’d worry about how to tell him who she was later.
Chapter Thirteen
Thatfancy wine-colored couch would now forever hold a place of honor in his library.By all that’s holy, his fingertips might be singed from the heat of his gorgeous little maid.
He’d be willing to bet the duke’s coffers that was her first orgasm—ever, not just at his hand.And he’d gotten to taste it.
Upstairs in bed, Xander drifted off to sleep with his fingers by his nose.He didn’t care to toss one off, although there had been a point in the library when he thought he might explode without a touch simply from her softness, wetness, and essence.Seeing her pleasure, feeling it against his fingers, was more than enough satisfaction for him, at least for the time being.
He hoped she wouldn’t panic and do something drastic like quit her position in the morning.If that happened, he’d try to talk her into staying.But from what he’d seen, the young woman had mettle.Indeed, she—a housemaid—was training a duke.So perhaps it would all be fine.
And indeed it was.As he crossed the hall from breakfast, he saw her dusting a parson’s table in the front hall.His shoes slapped on the marble floor, and she glanced up.After casting a quick look around the space, she ran her eyes up and down his form.
His cock perked up at the attention.Aiming for the library door quickly so the servants wouldn’t be scandalized, he held her gaze.Pausing with a hand on the frame, he winked, enjoyed the resulting blush that stole over her, and continued on his way.
Later that day, as they sat in the library, he couldn’t focus on Parliamentary decisions.Instead, the minute Evie walked into the room, he asked, “This marriage contract is somewhat vague about timing.It says at an agreed-upon date once—” he glanced down.“—Miss Allen reaches her majority.And since I don’t know the chit, I have no idea when that is or was.”
Evie slid onto her usual chair.“Given the circumstances, her family will likely be flexible.”
He grumbled, “I’m not ready to marry.”
“A wife would leave you more time to handle the management of the dukedom.”She gestured at the desk.“She would manage the household and its finances, and all social arrangements—accepting invitations, entertaining guests, and so on.”
He blinked.That thought was tempting, but only if she wouldn’t drag him to London for months at a time or schedule social engagements every night.However, he only liked the idea when he pictured Evie in the role and not some Ton chit on his arm, in his house, or in his bed.
She tilted her head.“You can’t tell me you actually enjoy any of that, Rutland.”
“But I’d have veto power?”
“You’re a duke.As I’ve been telling you, there is very little you don’t have control over.”Her tone was matter of fact.“Why do you ask?She’ll have been trained to take your wishes into consideration and ensure your comfort.”
