Accidentally Compromising the Duke (23 page)

“I can hear her cries with the wind.”

“And what do they say?”

His expression shuttered, but she glimpsed an edge of pain and fury in his eyes that had her mouth drying.

“She berates me for not saving her and our son.”

Adel stood on tiptoe and kissed his mouth. He trembled. Yet he kept his hands fisted at his sides, not touching her.

She pulled her lips from his slowly. His face hadn’t lost the strained look. “And what do they say now?”

He shook his head. “When you touch me…nothing else seems to matter.”

She kissed him again, and he closed his eyes, tilting his head. She allowed her lips to trail kisses along the strong column of his neck, down to the powerful muscles of his chest.

“Lose yourself in me tonight. No memories, no pain, only pleasure, Edmond.”

“I do not want to hurt you,” he groaned.

“Why would you?”

His chest expanded as he breathed deeply. “I am foxed.”

Her eyes widened. While his breath held fumes from the liquor nothing about him seemed soused.

She lowered forehead onto his chest. “Then we play cards. My mother taught me how to play piquet.”

“Scandalous,” he murmured, and it pleased her greatly that amusement colored his tone.

“I know,” she said with a smile.

“I wish that I could, but I cannot let you go, not tonight, not when your touch, your smell, keeps it all at bay.”

She lifted her head, and he dipped toward her, his mouth conquering. His lips trailed across her cheek to catch an earlobe between his teeth, and he nipped. He grasped the neckline of her chemisette and with one motion, tore open the flimsy material.

Good heavens
.

He feathered wet kisses over her neck, down to her collar, and placed his heated wet mouth over a nipple, sucking at it through her shift. The sensation was so sharp she bucked. Everything became a blur as what remained of their clothes were stripped away with haste, and soon they were both naked. He lifted her and strode to the narrow bed, where he tumbled her none too gently. But Adel did not want tenderness. His touch had incited a fever of need in her blood, and she was already wet for him.

They twisted on the sheets, and somehow she found herself, pressing kisses over his chest, down to his stomach, and to the thick length flexing against his ridged abdomen. Desperate to please and drown him in ecstasy, she clasped him and licked around the ridge below his head.

He shouted and fisted the sheets. Pleasure warmed her, and power tunneled though her. Acting on instinct, she licked along his length, before enveloping the flared mushroomed head into her mouth. He growled in approval, a truly lovely sound.

As if impatient for her, he reached down, gripped her hips, and drew her up his body and then flipped her over. His roughness excited her terribly and she moaned.

His heavy weight pressed her down, his hips forcing her legs wantonly wide. He reached between them and slid two fingers over her folds. His fingers moved sinuously over her swollen, wet flesh, and her entire body ached for his possession. He removed his fingers and pressed his blunt hardness to her softness. “You are so wet for me, Adeline.”

She shivered and tried to lift her hips. But she was splayed wide and restrained by his strength. She could only grip his shoulders for purchase. He braced himself up on his arms, flexed his buttocks, and drove his entire length deep in one powerful stroke, surging into her almost violently.

“Edmond!”

His face was stark with need. “So right, so damn tight and perfect.”

He reared slightly and hooked his arms beneath her knees, pushing her legs toward her shoulders.

“Do you know how beautiful you are, Adeline?” he whispered, his voice low and rough.

Then he drove his length into her over and over, shaking the bed against the wall. Lust rolled through her in a dark hungry tide, and she grasped his head, pulled down, and mashed their lips together. His tongue licked sensually at her lips, sliding deep into her mouth, a provocative mimicry of how he rode atop her. He snapped his hips even harder, his pelvis grinding against her knot of pleasure.

Sweet glorious heavens!

Adel found her release, gasping and shaking, never wanting such ecstasy to end. With a deep groan, and a few more rapid strokes, Edmond shuddered in her arms, gripping her tightly.

Their lips parted, and the heavy pants of their breathing mixed with the lash of rain against the window, and the crackle of the fire. The wind howled around the cottage and thunder cracked as the sky lit up with sudden lightning, yet neither of them seemed to notice.

He dropped his forehead to her, the sweat running from his hairline, down her forehead.

“There are days when I shudder in dread at the thought of what might have happened if you had not climbed into my bed, because I would now be wed to another. I’ve never desired another woman as I do you, Adeline.”

Adel choked, unable to speak. His lips curved in his sinfully alluring smile.

Then he pulled from her and stumbled from the bed.

“Edmond! Are you truly soused?”

“Perhaps, Duchess.”

Then he came back over to her and she realized he held his handkerchief. He gripped her legs and tugged her to the edge of the bed, widened them, and cleaned her. A frown appeared on his brow, he shook his head, then his gaze once more traveled to her center.

“You are soft and pink here,” he murmured, tracing a finger over her exposed flesh.

She gasped, wanton heat once again stirring in her blood.

“I want to taste.”

Before she could formulate a response, he dipped his head and glided his tongue over her.

She cried out weakly, her thighs falling apart even wider at his urging. His lips covered her nub and sucked hard. Adel lost her breath. His tongue flicked over her with firm then light strokes, throwing her into an almost violent release. She quaked, panting. He did not let up, but kept sucking and licking until she writhed with bliss.

“You taste sweet…I could feast on you forever,” he said as he rose and flipped her over, drawing her to knees. Her loud cry bounded off the wall as he shoved his thick length into her in one hard move.

“I will never get enough of your taste and the feel of you in my arms.”

Desire curled through her body as his words stroked her.

“You’re stretched so tight around me,” he growled. Then he proceeded to take her with a roughness she had never experienced before, and she gloried in every pounding thrust until she fragmented under the onslaught of such ecstasy.

Provocative words of encouragement spilled from her lips, and the bed groaned under his loss of control. With a muffled shout, he found his own release, and collapsed onto the bed, twisting her so she fell atop him. Seconds later, his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She covered him with the blankets and snuggled down beside him in the tiny bed.

“I love you, Edmond,” she whispered.

Of course he would not respond, for her duke was fast asleep.

Adel had no idea how long she lay on the bed curved into his side, simply listening to his breathing. She shifted and her heart thudded as she felt the wet warmth of his seed pooling along the insides of her thighs.
Oh, God, it is too soon.
He was not ready for this.

She pushed from the bed on trembling legs, containing her wince at the tender ache between her legs. She hurriedly dressed and he did not stir. Adel quickly collected the card pack and the game. The front of her chemisette was torn, but she ensured her riding jacket covered the damage before she left the cottage, throwing on her cloak to protect her from the last raindrops of the storm. The horse was gone, she assumed it had returned to the warmth of its stables at the onset of the downpour, but Maximus was waiting by the door, his tail thumping when he saw her.

Relief filled her at his presence, and with determined strides, she walked away from the cottage and strode toward the main house, uncaring that mud splattered the hem of her riding habit. Edmond had been so passionate and natural—his caresses, his words, they had been everything she wanted to hear and everything she wanted to hold close. Adeline feared he had truly been drunk, but not insensible. What would he do when he realized he had released his seed in her?

Chapter Twenty-Two

Edmond woke with a splitting head and a curse spilling from his lips. Once again he had passed the anniversary of Maryann and his son’s death in a drunken haze. Suddenly he despised the notion of liquor and vowed then he would never imbibe to drunkenness again. He pushed from the bed and paused, heat and something elusive slithering though his veins. Something was different. He struggled to remember, and fleeting impressions of Adeline crowded his mind.

Her compassionate smile.

The storm in her eyes that darkened to passion.

Passion
… Her lips parted in bliss, her body arching to him, wet heat enveloping his length.

The cottage smelled like his duchess.

He frowned and glanced around. There was nothing to indicate she had been there. He scrubbed a hand over his face as the wisp of a dream roiled though his mind. He glanced down at his flaccid cock, which seemed sticky with the release he’d obviously achieved from dreaming of Adeline.

Hell.

He was like an untired youth. But he was grateful the worst had passed. And he had some explaining to do to his wife. It was hard to explain the guilt that had stirred to know Maryann rotted in the ground, and he was whole, healthy, and without a doubt falling in love with his new wife.

He dressed in a slow manner, mindful of his headache. A few minutes later he exited the cabin to a very dreary atmosphere. When he’d realized it would rain yesterday he had not tethered his horse so that it could return to the stables. It would rain again today. Maximus bounded over to Edmond, getting mud all over his clothes. He chuckled and hugged him around his neck, playing roughly with the great brute. They made their way to the estate, and his steps slowed when he spied Adeline and his girls strolling along a path.

Sarah spied him and with a shriek raced over. He swooped her into his arms, and placed her atop his head, as how his father had done with him many times. His daughter gripped tuffs of his hair for purchase, giggling.

“It is very high from up here, Father.”

Rosa ran over chortling and hugged him. “We missed you, Father.”

“I missed you both, too.”

“Will you come to our tea party in the nursery this afternoon?”

His throat tightened. This was the first time in years that he had received a much coveted invitation to one of his girls’ tea parties. They always held them, even invited his mother, and sometimes, he believed, Adeline, but not him. He’d known he was responsible for their wariness but had been at loss for how to mend the hurt he’d caused with his absence. “I would be honored to be on your guest list today, Lady Sarah and Lady Rosalie.”

They giggled, and his heart jerked in wonder at the beautiful sound.

He frowned when he noted his duchess seemed hesitant. They walked over to her, and he glanced at the basket in her hands.

“The girls and I took a walk, though it was overcast.” She held up the basket. “We picked some berries.”

Why was Adeline wary?

“Forgive me for departing with such haste from town.”

Her eyes widened and a flush climbed her cheeks. “It is of no great matter. I had been missing the girls and the estate dreadfully. I would have liked to be a part of the decision, however, but Lady Harriet explained what precipitated your actions.”

He nodded. “Shall we walk together?”

“We shall.”

They moved toward the house in the distance.

“You’re beautiful.”

She glanced at him, eyes wide, then what he had been waiting for came. A slow smile touched her mouth which was sinfully swollen, as if they had been kissed. Repeatedly.

For a terrible, timeless minute, he could do nothing but stare. The edges of his dream teased his thoughts. “Did you have a pleasant night?”

“Oh yes, I did, thank you, and you?”

“My sleep was restful.”

They said no more, allowing the girls to chatter until they reached the main house. All should have been well, yet Edmond wondered at the disquiet lodging in his gut.

…

Eight weeks later, Adeline was bent over the chamber pot heaving and looking pale. Her maid Meg held the mass of her hair from her face and pressed a cool washcloth to her brow.

“There, there,” Meg crooned as his duchess heaved once more.

Sympathy filled Edmond. Adeline was having a horrible time of it.

“This dreaded puking will pass in a few weeks.”

He felt something freeze in his soul at the maid’s words. This was not some random illness. Edmond’s mind worked with cold logic. This was the second morning she had been retching before breaking her fast, and last night she had flinched when he sucked at her breast. He had even commented they were delightfully larger and his duchess’s eyes had slid away in discomfort. He knew the symptoms, but it made no sense. These past few weeks he had been very careful to always withdraw, even when she tempted him to be reckless.

“Are you with child?” he asked with dangerous softness.

Adeline stilled. Never had he seen her so lifeless, then he met her gaze. They were filled with raw panic. The fear that rose in him was acrid and sharp. With child…
How?
“How?”

She squeezed Meg’s hands gently and the maid rose to her feet. She dipped into a quick curtsy to him and darted from the room.

Adeline stood, went to the wash basin and rinsed her mouth, then faced him. Her throat worked but no sound came forth, but he was not mistaken in the anger sparkling in her eyes.

Ice crept over him. “I asked you a question, Duchess.”

She squeezed her eyes closed tightly. “You touched me,” she said softly as if that would explain her betrayal.

He touched her?

Please do not stop, Edmond… How you make me burn, but such a wonderful delightful burn.