Page 25 of A Tale of Two Dukes

At my words, her inner walls flutter around me. I continue kissing her, sliding my tongue inside the heat of her mouth as I make her mine. Her moans are muffled against my lips, but I hear them all the same. I feel it in her questing hands as her fingers roam over my body.

Soon, I’m fully seated, and we both groan in unison. This time, when she comes on my cock, it will be slow, sensual, and languid. I clutch her to me, pressing her hard against my body as I rock in and out.

Reaching between us, I strum her clit, drinking in the sounds of her pleasure. With each pass of my fingers, her muscles clench, rippling around me. Pulling away from her lips, I graze my teeth across her shoulder.

Again, not enough to break the skin, but enough to stop the damned buzzing in my head. I bite down, holding her flesh between my teeth, refusing to allow myself to go any further. Her body explodes around me, her inner walls clamping down.

Releasing her, I grit my teeth and grab her hips, holding her down as I slam back into her. With each hard thrust, her moans turn feverish. Her body continues to shudder around me.

With one final thrust, I impale her, filling her fully as my knot expands, holding us together. Dear God, I’ll never tire of the sound she makes as her body stretches to accommodate me. It’s somewhere between a whine and a moan.

It’s a soft sound of desperation as her nails score my shoulders. In the haze of my orgasm, as my cum fills her up, I realize I will never be free of her. Even if I find myself bound by marriage, I will never give her up.

CHAPTER 11

Kitty

Heaviness infuses my limbs, forbidding my body from moving. My mind still whirls with thoughts, fragments of a dream, and the heady scent of Birchleigh. I struggle to open my eyes, but all my body wants is sleep.

Heat engulfs me, clogging my throat every time I try to take a breath. But worse than all of that is the heavy weight that pins me down, making it nearly impossible to move. Sleep drifts about me, lulling me in and out of consciousness.

All I want to do is scream, but even that is impossible. Eyes stare at me. Pale blue eyes peer down at me, delving deep into my soul as if to steal secrets from my heart. I open my mouth, a cry of terror on my lips, but nothing comes out.

I’m robbed of all sounds. Thrashing about, I do my best to shove at the bulk that keeps me squashed down into the thick, heavy blankets that surround me, suffocating me, and enveloping me at every turn. Soft sounds of distress pour from my throat, barely audible, and yet, they sound as loud as thunder booming on the horizon.

Death, murder, and mayhem. Those words swirl about in my mind as incriminating eyes continue to bore deep into my mind. Even now, the faintest scent of ocean laps at my brain, adding to the dread coiling low in my gut.

“Help.” I manage to whisper the word as I’m locked in this invisible battle.

I’ve had moments like this before. Times when my mind and body were at war. Granted, incidences like this have been few and far between since I’ve grown older. At first, I thought it was merely an affliction cast upon me as a child.

And yet, whenever times of great stress entered my life, these living nightmares would once more torment me, plaguing my mind. I am awake. Very much aware of my surroundings. But it’s for naught. Nothing I do seems to break me of this spell.

Even now, I feel the hot body pressed against me, Birchleigh’s hand clutching me against his hard, unyielding planes. If only I can awaken him. Surely he can slay this foul demon that rakes its fiery fingers through my brain.

Again, I shift, at least I think I do. Those eyes follow me, unforgiving, angry, and full of recrimination. But none of this was my fault. I cannot understand why he stares at me so, why he demands answers I cannot provide.

Until the former Birchleigh was taken away and hanged, I knew nothing of the plot against the Prince. And if I did, who would I tell? Who would even believe me? The daughter of an esteemed earl certainly has weight behind her words, but I’m still a woman after all.

Tears scald my face as they drip from my closed eyelids. I just want freedom. I want to live my life as I should and not have to run. Exhaustion floods my limbs as I realize just how tired I am of this charade. And yet, I cannot return home.

Not now that I’m soiled and no longer fit for a good match. What would Mother say? What would happen to my sister? She is still not old enough for a coming out, but my presence back home would elicit so many questions that cannot be answered.

It would ruin what’s left of my family’s good name and my sister’s chance at potential happiness. No. I will stay hidden away, a mistress to a duke. That has to be worth something, right? If only I could have stayed at The Rose and Thorne longer, then I might have learned more about the situation in which I find myself.

Soft whimpers claw at my throat as those blue eyes force their way into my thoughts, intruding on the pleasant memories of my family. He cannot allow me even a moment of peace. I move to turn my head, to dispel the horrid sight, but find I still cannot move.

Rough hands rove over my body, jostling me, moving me. Soft whispers pour into my ears, and yet, I cannot understand the words. They make no sense, however comforting they may be.

Strong fingers move my face, cradling my jaw as I move from side to side. Soon, my lashes flutter, and instead of horrific blue eyes, dark emerald orbs shine down at me. They sparkle in the candlelight, the flames lending them a warmth that’s so desperately missing from the blue ones that haunt my dreams.

“Shhh, love. I need you to look at me. Open your eyes. That’s my good girl.”

Finally, the words make sense. They drive through the remaining fog until Birchleigh’s face comes into blessed focus. He continues to stroke his fingers down the sides of my cheeks, urging me further into reality.

Once he’s satisfied, the concerned frown lightens into something softer. If I were a romantic sort of person, I might call it tenderness. But he can’t feel something like that for me. Not when he doesn’t even know me or the secrets I harbor close to my heart.

“There now, kitten,” he murmurs, holding me close. We stay locked together for what feels like an eternity as his heartbeat pounds, strong and steady, against my ear. After a bit, his voice rumbles out into the room, heavy with sleep and emotion. “Would you like to talk about it?”