Rose looked at David, at his perfect comprehension, and felt herself blushing to the roots.
Rose watched the door of the master suite of Carden House click shut, the sound final and heavy, sealing the rest of the world away.
Felix didn’t hesitate. He turned, capturing her mouth slowly, hungrily.
He didn’t just undress her; he dismantled her. As his fingers worked the buttons at the nape of her gown, Rose marveled at his precision. There was no clumsy fumbling; he moved with the terrifyingly smooth grace of a man who understood exactly how much anticipation a woman’s skin could hold before it caught fire.
When the silk finally pooled at her feet, Rose instinctively tried to cross her arms over her shift, the old habit of the wallflower resurfacing. Felix caught her wrists, his grip firm but velvet-soft, pinning them gently at her sides.
“Don’t,” he murmured, his voice a dark, honeyed rasp that made her knees weaken. “I’ve spent weeks imagining the lines of you. Let me see how much better the reality is.”
His gaze was a physical weight, devouring her with a focus so intense she felt bared before he even touched the ties of her shift.When he eased the linen over her head, Rose trembled, the cool air prickling her skin. But the chill was fleeting. Felix was there, his hands splaying across her ribcage, his thumbs grazing the undersides of her breasts with a practiced, reverent touch.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, the word a vow against her skin. “You are absolutely devastating, Rose.”
He led her to the bed; his own clothes discarded with elegance. When he joined her, the sheer heat of him made her breath hitch. Rose felt small beneath him, but not powerless; the way his hands shook as he touched her neck told her exactly how much control she held.
“Look at me, Rose,” he commanded softly, his hand sliding down the curve of her stomach, his fingers trailing patterns that sent sparks dancing across her nerves. “I am going to be gentle with you. And make you enjoy each second of this. All of it… just for you, darling.”
He began to explore her, his experienced touch finding the damp, silken heat between her thighs. Rose let out a broken sound, her head tossing back against the pillows.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he praised, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “You’re so responsive. So perfect for me. Give me more of those sounds.”
When he positioned himself over her, the air in the room seemed to vanish. She felt a sudden tension in her limbs, a slight tremor of uncertainty, and he stilled.
“Easy,” he whispered, his thumb catching a stray tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. “I’ve got you. Just breathe for me.”
When he entered her, and the sharp sting of her innocence breaking made her gasp, he stopped instantly.
“You’re doing so well,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to hers. “Just a moment, darling… let the sting pass.”
Rose watched his face, seeing the mask of the duke crumble into something raw and worshipping as he rained soft, drugged kisses on her eyelids and temple, whispering praise into her skin until her grip on his shoulders softened from a clutch to a caress.
He moved slowly with a calculated, rhythmic grace designed entirely to coax the pleasure back into her body. Each time her breath hitched in a new, sweeter way, he rewarded her with a low, possessive murmur.
“Yes, just like that. Wrap your legs around me… that’s it. You were made for this, Rose. You were made for me.”
The pleasure began to build, a terrifying, golden tide that eclipsed the memory of the pain. Felix must have seen the change in her eyes when the pleasure took hold, for he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming deeper, more demanding. His hands slid under her hips to tilt her up to meet him.
“That’s it. Take it all. Look at what you do to me,” he rasped, his own composure finally splintering as she tightened around him. “You’re incredible. God, you’re perfect.”
When the world finally shattered, Rose cried out his name. Her body vibrated with an intensity she hadn’t known she possessed. Felix followed her heartbeat later with a guttural roar of surrender as he pulled out of her, his climax spending over her belly.
As he collapsed against her chest, the silence returned, and Felix’s lips pressed to the damp curls at her temple.
“Was I…” she began and stopped.
“Incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with uncharacteristic awe. “I told you, Rose. You’re a revelation.”
She almost cried at that—not from happiness, but from the fear that it could only ever be fleeting.
“I never expected this,” she said, voice slurred with exhaustion. “Not with you. Not with anyone.”
He laughed, a low, contented rumble. “You’re remarkable, my duchess. I hope you know that.”
She closed her eyes. “I don’t. But you can keep trying to convince me.”
He kissed her hair gently, reverently.
