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Incomparable indeed.
He began to move, slowly at first. He didn’t want to hurt her. Soon, she was moving with him, her hips arcing up. The friction was beyond spectacular. He wasn’t going to last long but suspected that was for the best. If he could just bring her with him…
He found her clitoris again and worked her flesh until her movements became more emphatic. She thrust with him, the room filling with the sounds of their bodies coming together.
He drove faster, and his orgasm sped to its conclusion. “Come with me, Nora.” He vaguely realized she had no idea what he meant, but then it happened. She cried out, and her muscles constricted around him. His balls tightened, and he just barely managed to pull out before he spilled inside of her. Instead, he came on her belly, which was, as he’d feared, rather graceless.
Powerless to do anything but empty his seed, he stroked his shaft until he was complete. Satisfaction—bone-deep and toe-curling—pitched through him. But what a mess.
“See, I said you would need to forgive me.” He moved away from her and found his discarded cravat. Then he returned and wiped her flesh clean.
“Better there than in the other…place,” she said, showing a sense he found devastatingly attractive. Along with everything else about her.
He helped her sit up, then presented her with her night clothes. While she covered herself, he set about conducting his own toilet. His valet would cringe at the state of his clothing, but Titus didn’t care. This had been the best night he could recall in a ridiculously long time. Maybe in the entirety of his life.
“That was…astonishing.” Her declaration seemed to mirror his thoughts, sending a jolt of pleasure through him.
“Indeed.”
She stood from the settee and tied the sash around her night robe. “You are still a man of few words.”
He sat on the chair to pull on his stockings and boots. “I thought I spoke plenty.”
Her answering smile was devilish, and he knew in that moment that he’d never be able to look at her again without thinking of this encounter, of what they’d shared. No matter what happened, they were connected on a level he’d never experienced.
“You did, actually,” she said. “Quite shockingly. I do thank you for taking those…precautions. But mostly, I must thank you for allowing me to satisfy my curiosity.”
Hopefully it meant more to her than that. It had to him. “Is that what this was, an experiment?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Not that, but maybe a question for which I had no answer until now.”
He loved how her mind worked. “And what is the answer?”
“That I can trust myself to choose what I want. That maybe what I thought I wanted isn’t. You’ve given me much to think about. I guess I maybe don’t have the actual answer yet. Perhaps this is a conversation we can have another time.” She yawned, which seemed to punctuate her statement.
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, surprising him. It was a sweet gesture. No one had done that except his stepmother. It made him feel…safe.
“Good night, Titus. Sleep well.” She went to the door and opened it, looking over her shoulder before she left. “I know I shall.”
He watched her go and fetched the whisky glasses from the shelf. He frowned and wondered if anyone would make note of the fact that there were two of them and try to puzzle who’d they’d belonged to. No one knew he was here, save the night footman who’d been dozing under the stairs when he’d arrived.
He tossed back the contents of both glasses and deposited them on the sideboard, then made his way from the house.
Outside, the predawn was dark, the city as quiet as it could ever be. He roused his coachman and directed him to drive home.
As he reclined in the interior, casting his head back against the squab, he marveled at how blissfully sated he felt. At the same time, a splinter of discomfort wedged into his brain. He hadn’t taken advantage of her, and yet he’d ruined her just the same. She could still marry, and probably would, but he’d taken that which she should’ve given to her husband.
A tiny voice in his head asked why that couldn’t be him.
Marry her. Make her his duchess. Hisforbiddenduchess. He smiled at that thought.
His smile faded. Would she want that? Tonight’s events had affected her greatly. Even before they’d made love, she’d talked about an independent life with the fervor of one who desperately wanted something they didn’t think they could have.
He’d heard enough about her background from his stepmother to know that she was financially destitute and basically homeless. Her father seemed a feckless sort, and Titus wanted to know why he hadn’t planned better for his daughter.
As the coach neared his town house, he was no closer to determining what he should do next. Maybe because the next move was hers. He’d wanted to give her power tonight—choice—and he didn’t want to take it from her.
Marry her, his mind said.
