Page 74 of To Ensnare a Duke

The look he gives me is unreadable, but the vibration of fury running through his body is not. "Do you care nothing about the consequences of your actions? Do you care nothing about your friends? And here I thought you had more of a heart than that."

"How dare you question me about my heart when you have none of your own?"

He stops and stares at me. Perhaps I've gone too far? For a moment he simply blinks at me, hurt shining in his eyes. But then, what of my hurt? What of my pain?

"Madam," he grinds out. "I assure you, my heart is as real as your own. If only you were obedient enough to allow me to show it to you."

"Obedient. That's all you lot ever talk about. Nothing more than blind obedience. At what point will I be able to be my own person outside of your stringent ideals?"

"When will you ever know your place," he finally roars.

For a moment, very real fear slithers through my veins as he leans forward, his eyes wild, and his demeanor unhinged.

"My place. And where exactly is my place?"

"Under me." Those two words spoken on a soft growl do more to me than I dare let on.

"So you can possess me and own me like a trinket you buy in the market," I eventually spit out, all my feelings surging to the forefront.

"No, dammit," he swears under his breath, grabbing me into his arms. "So I can protect you."

"I can protect myself." I detest the hoarse sound to my voice as he holds me close.

The heat of his body seeps into my pores, filling my nose with his potent scent. I feel so weak. So very weak when I'm with him. Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps we aren't the love story for the ages.

"Damn you, minx," he growls against my lips before searing me with a kiss. "I never wanted you before, never needed you. You were a sister to me, and nothing more." His rough hands tear away the cloak and throw it to the ground. "And now that I'm forced to have you, I find I cannot exist without you." Without pausing, he runs his fingers over the fabric and brocade of my evening dress.

Perhaps we should have considered changing into something a bit more pedestrian, but none of us were thinking clearly at the time. In this, he's right. It would have been far too easy to spot women dressed as fashionably as we were. Not that I'll admit that to him anytime soon.

A soft cry flits through my lips as his hands grip the fabric of my dress, jerking it up over my head without any care to its delicacy. But then… he is a duke. It's not as if another dress cannot be procured. My insides twist as rational and irrational thoughts flit through my brain.

I shouldn't be thinking of clothes at a time like this. I should be only concentrating on the feel of his hand on my body as he strips me bare. He pulls at the laces of my corset and plucks at them with expert precision.

"You turn my head and muddle my senses," he groans. "You're far better and more enticing than any drop of alcohol. How I would give you the world just to be mine." He jerks me around to pull the strings through, causing my stays to fall to the floor with the rest of my clothing.

But it's not enough. He continues to strip me until there's nothing left. Soon, I stand before him in nothing but my stockings and garters, but they don't protect me. I'm sure he sees just how shamefully wet and wanton his actions cause me to be.

"I'm sure you're going to torment me just as harshly as you've done the past week or so. What was it you promised? That my wedding night would be pleasurable if I obeyed? Does this mean I'll find out how horrible it will be? Will you make it wretched on purpose?"

He pulls away, his eyes dark as midnight as he peers down at me. The man in front of me is someone I no longer recognize. It should frighten me, should repel me. Unfortunately, I find myself further drawn in like a moth to a flame.

"You speak of having a heart," I spit out. "But you do well enough to push me away, teasing me just enough to be beholden to you then tearing it from my grasp. What heart is that?"

"Do you torment me with a purpose, woman? Do you rile me up for your own conniving amusements? You have no idea just what I'm capable of, what I keep hidden from you for your sanity and mine. If you only knew the things I wish to do to your virginal flesh… You would know my heart if you were but to look."

It's madness, pure and simple. It's the only thing I can think of that keeps me pushing him. I want his perversion. I want his ire. I want all of it to rain down upon me and drown me in it so I can no longer think. His rough touch is the only thing that stops the madness from creeping into my brain and taking hold.

Unable to stand it, I clutch at my hair, wishing I could explain this secret shame. It's not that I don't wish to communicate my needs… I can't. I don't know how to. No one ever taught me. No one ever showed me the way.

Mother certainly never showed anything like this. Perhaps it's just me. Perhaps I'm the broken one. Tears finally fill my eyes as I look at the one man I love. The one man I cannot seem to keep from pushing away.

Even now, as he runs his hands over my body, I shove him away, physically striking him, hoping to get him to act with more than just these delicate touches and gestures. I don't want it. I don't want to feel the pity rolling off of him as he tries to cajole me and calm me with his touch.

I want to be ravaged beyond the ability to coherently think.

CHAPTER 33

BENEDICT