“You are mine, Madeline.” The growl rumbled out of him as he drove into her again and again. “Your every breath. Your every smile. All mine.”
“Yes!” she choked out, and meant it.
He thrust harder at that, his hips snapping against hers, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. He gave her throat another squeeze, and the head of his cock struck some place deep inside her that made the pleasure detonate. Her eyes flew wide. She felt herself break apart around him, her sex clenching down on him in wave after wave.
“Oh, Kenneth...”
He let go of her throat as she came, and the air rushed back in to make her climax sharper still. Then his rhythm faltered, turned ragged, and with a hoarse shout, he buried himself to the hilt and spilled inside her, filling her as she pulsed around him.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Kenneth stayed buried inside her, his forehead resting against hers, both of them breathing hard. She could feel his heart racing where their bodies pressed together.
It was proof, if she had ever needed it, that the man was not made of stone after all.
Chapter 25
“If I had only known that a mere conversation with a gentleman would make the Duke of Huntington forget self-control, then I should have flirted with one since the beginning,” Madeline teased, her voice sounding like a purr.
Kenneth did not laugh. The whole encounter at her family’s house was still in his mind. He could still feel the tremble in his muscles as he held himself so he would not strangle Mr. Sheffield.
“Do not even dare do such a thing again,” he growled, although his eyes were on her lips.
It felt good to have Madeline so close against his ribs with his arms around her. He caressed her arm as he continued, “Do not even jest about it. I mean it. If Sheffield does that again, I will not guarantee his safety. The same goes with every other man who tries to do the same.”
Madeline smiled, her eyes sparkling. She looked so properly ravished, with her messy hair and pinkened cheeks, that it drove him absolutely mad. He could not imagine leaving this roomagain.
He sighed. He knew he had to do so eventually.
“I realize you can be intensely jealous, Your Grace,” Madeline teased, her fingers playing with the dark curls by his nape. “It is fascinating to see a statue come alive.”
“Yes, you have nearly driven me to violence,” he murmured, as he lowered his lips to her throat. She gasped and wriggled as if tickled. He was fascinated to find what his touches and kisses did to her. She was so sensitive. So responsive. “But I do not find it fascinating to watch my wife smile at some dandy who thinks too highly of himself but does not deserve her.”
“All I wanted was to prove that you can display emotions. And you have shown me that you are capable of that, and of much, much more.” Madeline giggled as she kissed him.
This bed had become a sanctuary. It had been several nights since he first took her, and he had refused to leave it since. The ledgers and the correspondence could wait. Let them pile on his desk. The man who had never once let his work sit untended could not bring himself to care.
They had both eaten their meals together in their room, only separating to bathe, and even then, he was tempted to join her. He could get accustomed to this life of tangled sheets and consuming hunger. He should be frightened, but he clung to hope.Hopethat this was not the disaster he always imagined it could lead to. Even Madeline looked happier—glowing—even though he had not told her he loved her.
Did he love her?
All he knew was that he enjoyed what they had. He firmly pinned her arms above her head. He shifted so he could look into her eyes, his breathing growing shallower as he felt the heat between them ignite once more.
“Why did you want to prove that I have emotions?” he asked, dropping his voice to the low, dangerous register he used with his enemies. But this time, it was tinged with something else. Seduction. “Why did you want it so badly, Madeline?”
Madeline smiled softly. She looked at him, her fingers curling around his bicep.
“I enjoy a challenge, Kenneth, but it was what Malcolm said that had me pushing you to show your emotions,” she admitted. “He told me that you do not have any at all. He said there is no point in trying to get you to feel anything, since you have been emotionless ever since you were a boy. I wanted to prove him wrong.”
Kenneth felt a sharp, cold pang in his chest. He could not blame Malcolm for saying those things. He had built his walls so high nobody could reach him.
His life had become nothing more than achievements and work, involving ledgers he worked on until midnight. Sometimes, he would let women tend to his needs, but even they had not seen his passion. He had never even taken them to Huntington or his rooms.
“I do have emotions,” Kenneth clarified, moving upward so that he could whisper the words against her mouth. “You reminded me of them. I was terrified of something happening to you. I was afraid to let my family down. Then, I was heartbroken when I saw you cry. See? I have many emotions.”
“How do you hide them so well, then?” she asked, her eyes wide and curious. It looked like she was trying to read what was on his mind. “Perhaps you could teach me how you do it.”
“I cannot do that, because I want to see your smiles all the time. You do not have to follow in my footsteps. This was a habit simply borne out of necessity. My father was a very strict man. He always wanted me to control and hide my emotions. His interest was in success, and nothing more.”
For a moment, Madeline simply watched Kenneth. He felt grateful that he did not see pity there. There was just affection.
