The Forbidden Duke Read online

  She opened her eyes and gazed at him in wonder.

  He forced himself to speak. “Nora, if you want me to stop, it must be now.”

  She glanced down at the bulge in his breeches. “What about you?”

  “This was never about me. It was about you.”

  “Then I’m not finished.” She sat up and reached for the buttons of his fall. “We’re not finished.”

  He clasped her hands, effectively stilling them. “Nora, if we continue, you will no longer be as you are. Do you understand?”

  “I am already no longer as I was. And thank God for that. Thank God for you.” Her brow arched. “If you think I’m letting you leave now, you haven’t been paying attention.”

  He enjoyed the slight narrowing of her eyes, the dark intent in her gaze. “You’re rather despotic, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, if I must be. Titus…”

  He watched her search for the words to say what she wanted and decided to rescue her. “If you insist.”

  “I do.” She pushed his hand away and continued with his buttons until his breeches gapped open. Then she tugged at the garment. “Off.”

  He stood and stripped his clothing away until he stood nude before her. He expected her gaze to affix on his hardened cock and wasn’t disappointed. He was surprised however, and perhaps shouldn’t have been, when she reached out and ran her fingertips along his length.

  She sucked in a breath and continued to stare at him as a bead of moisture formed at the tip. She stroked him again and tentatively touched the drop. She glanced up at him. “What does it taste like?”

  He tried not to laugh and failed. “I’m sure I don’t know.”

  She nodded slowly as her gaze dropped once more. “Your flesh is much softer than I imagined.” She curled her fingers around him, instinctively knowing what to do to please him. At least, he assumed it was instinct.

  “Nora, you are inexplicably expert at this.”

  “Am I?” She continued caressing his shaft, and he couldn’t stop his hips from snapping forward. He’d been on the verge of orgasm when he’d pushed her over the edge, but had managed to keep a handle on himself. “There it is again,” she murmured. Then her head tipped forward, and her tongue darted out to catch the next drop that had beaded on the head.

  “Good God, Nora, you are going to kill me.”

  “Hmmm, salty. More of…that comes out…later?”

  “When I have an orgasm, yes. Like you did.”

  “But this could make me with child.” She frowned. Her hand continued its slow but wondrous torture. “That would be a problem.”

  Hell yes, it would. “There are precautions,” he said tightly. “Not infallible, but nothing is.”

  “Then you shall employ them.” She tightened her grip, unwittingly sending him even closer to the edge. “Let us continue.”

  “We have been this entire time. Have you no inkling what you’ve been doing to me?”

  She arched that damned brow again. “I’m not a simpleton.”

  “No, by God, you are not.”

  He pushed her back on the settee and settled himself between her legs. “Please forgive me my gracelessness. I have absolutely no experience with virgins.”

  “I think you have an inaccurate perspective as to how this encounter has progressed. If you haven’t noticed, I’m enjoying myself immensely. And I don’t expect that to change. You are far too considerate.” She pulled at his hips. “Please, Titus. Just do remember to take whatever precautions are necessary.”

  Yes, he would need to keep his wits about him. The second his cock touched her, he feared he was lost. He guided himself inside her, unsure of what to expect. She was unfathomably tight. Her muscles gripped his shaft as he slid slowly into her slick passage.

  He teased her clitoris, sensing her tense the farther he intruded. He coaxed her flesh, stirring her until he felt her relax. Then he pushed himself to the hilt.

  He leaned forward and brushed his lips against her temple. “Are you uncomfortable?”

  “No. This is…pleasant, actually. That feeling I had before, the sensation that I might rip in two… I fear it might be returning.”

  Fear? “You didn’t like it?”

  “Oh no, I adored it.”

  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.
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br />   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. His forbidden duchess. 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.

  Perhaps he could offer her another one.

  Nora was thrilled to have a day of respite. She was exhausted. Though she’d felt tired after her encounter with Titus, she hadn’t been able to sleep. Her mind and body had been too overcome with thought and sensation. She wished they could have lain together in bed, side by side, and talked until the dawn.

  In the afternoon, she and Lady Satterfield sat together in the upstairs sitting room enjoying tea. Lady Satterfield was reading, and Nora was writing a letter to her sister. She couldn’t quite find the words to tell Jo what had happened with Titus and longed to see her in person.

  Harley entered the sitting room. “Lord Markham is here to call on Miss Lockhart.”

  Lady Satterfield set her book down. “Indeed?” She glanced excitedly at Nora before looking back to Harley. “Do show him into the drawing room. We’ll be there in a moment.”

  Nora set down her pen and checked her hands for ink stains. She looked down at her day dress. It was appropriate for callers, but she hadn’t really prepared herself for visitors since this had been a planned day of rest.

  Lady Satterfield seemed to read Nora’s thoughts. “You look splendid, dear.”

  Nora considered asking the countess to tell Lord Markham that they weren’t receiving callers today, but it was too late for that. Besides, Nora loved seeing Lady Satterfield’s excitement.

  Nora patted the back of her hair, which was swept up into a simple chignon. “Is my hair all right?”

  “As I said, you look splendid. Come, let’s not keep the earl waiting.” Lady Satterfield stood and went to the door, which Harley had left ajar.

  Nora followed her into the drawing room.

  Lord Markham was dressed in riding clothes, his buff breeches hugging him with a perfect fit. Nora couldn’t help but notice he didn’t fill out his costume quite as well as Titus, but then she doubted anyone could. And now that she’d seen and felt Titus without any adornment, she felt thoroughly qualified to make such judgments. Even if they were scandalously inappropriate.

  Markham offered a smart bow to both Nora and the countess. He rose with a smile. “Good afternoon, Lady Satterfield, Miss Lockhart. It’s lovely to see you today.” Though the comment was likely for both of them, his intent stare made it seem as if he were speaking only to Nora.

  She responded with a curtsey. “And you, Your Grace. I am delighted that you’ve come.” She wished she could feel even the slightest thrill at his obvious interest in her. Oh, it was flattering and charming, but it didn’t ignite her soul the way one look from Titus could do.

  “I wanted to thank you for the dance last night,” he said.

  Had that just been last night? Because of what had happened after, Nora was positive it had to be the more distant past. But of course it wasn’t.

  “Will you be in the park later? Perhaps we can promenade.” He looked quite hopeful, and for a fleeting moment, Nora considered changing her mind about staying home the rest of the day.

  She offered a warm smile. “Actually, we’re going to have a quiet afternoon and evening, but I do thank you for the invitation. Another day?”

  He nodded. “Indeed. I do hope you’ll attend Lady Burney’s soiree night after next. Lady Burney is my sister.”

  Nora flicked a glance at Lady Satterfield. She couldn’t recall what their calendar held for the remainder of the week. It seemed last night’s events had turned her into a featherwit.

  Lady Satterfield returned a subtle nod, causing Nora to answer, “Yes. We’re looking forward to it.”

  He smiled brightly. “Excellent. I shall hope for the first dance. I shall take my leave. I wish you a restorative day, Miss Lockhart.” He offered another bow and again when he rose, his eyes seemed to bore into hers.

  As he bowed to Lady Satterfield next, Harley entered. The butler looked to the countess and said, “Mr. Dawson is here, my lady.”

  Lord Markham straightened, and a flicker of some emotion—a shadow of disappointment perhaps—passed over his expression. He quickly covered the momentary lapse before offering them both a final smile and departing the room.

  “Show him in, Harley.” Lady Satterfield turned to Nora. “My goodness. Two suitors in one day. And they’ll see each other in passing.” Her eyes twinkled with glee. “Oh, this could become quite fun!”

  A decade ago, maybe even five years ago, Nora would have agreed. Now, however, the notion made her feel slightly queasy. She liked Markham and Dawson, but when she compared them to Titus… She had to stop doing that!

  Except she couldn’t. What had been a fantasy—an infatuation—in her mind, had become reality last night, if only for a short time. She’d caught a glimpse of what it was like to be held in Titus’s arms, and she feared anyone else would fall far too short.

  Mr. Dawson stalked forward, his smile broad and engaging. He bowed first to Lady Satterfield. “Good afternoon, my lady, thank you for your kind hospitality.”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Dawson, the pleasure is ours.” She inclined her head and angled her body toward Nora.

  Dawson moved to Nora and bowed a trifle more elegantly. When he straightened, his gaze was captivatingly straightforward. Nora liked this man’s simplicity and artlessness.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Lockhart.” His tone carried a softer edge than when he’d spoken to Lady Satterfield. “I am so pleased to find you at home. I wonder if we might take a stroll around the garden?” He looked toward the countess. “If Lady Satterfield permits.”

  “Of course.” She nodded. “Just go through there and take the stairs down from the terrace. I’ll follow you and sit in the library where I can see you.”

  So Nora was allowed to take an unchaperoned walk with Titus, but not with Mr. Dawson? Perhaps that was because Lady Satterfield had no reason to believe that Titus was interested in Nora in any other capacity beyond helping her successfully navigate the Season.

  Mr. Dawson offered his arm. “Shall we?”

  Nora placed her hand on his sleeve, and they walked through the rear sitting room onto the terrace. She instantly noted that Dawson’s arm lacked the strength and substance of Titus’s. He also lacked Titus’s ruggedly masculine scent and the simple aura of potent virility that seemed to follow Titus. Oh, heavens, she was a ninny! She sounded like a lovestruck girl.

  She nearly tripped on the stairs as they descended to the garden.

  That’s because she was a lovestruck girl.

  She was in love with Titus. What has started as an impossible fancy, an unattainable dream had become her most fervent desire. He made her feel comfortable, strong, and special. She’d never felt those things before.

  “It’s a particularly fine day, though I do worry about the clouds I saw on the horizon. It may not be quite so plea
sant by five o’clock.”

  Nora forced herself to pay attention to what Dawson was saying. “Yes,” was all she could manage for an answer while her mind—and heart—struggled to make sense of what she’d just realized.

  “I do miss the country,” he said. “As do you.”

  They’d discussed that very topic last night during their dance. He had a modest house in Sussex where he enjoyed fishing and walking with his two boys, aged five and seven. Nora had warmed to the obvious love he felt for them. She didn’t doubt she could be happy there. As happy as she’d been in St. Ives at least and probably more so.

  “Yes. I admit this rigorous schedule is a bit overwhelming. In fact, Lady Satterfield and I are enjoying a restful pause today.”

  He turned his head and looked at her in dismay. “And here I’ve spoiled it. I should have called another day.”

  She didn’t want him to feel bad. “It’s quite all right.”

  He continued along the path, which circuited the small garden. “I suppose so, since you also accepted Markham’s call.”

  Was there a note of annoyance or perhaps jealousy in his voice? She decided to ignore it if there was.

  He cleared his throat. “Might I ask… That is… Do I need to worry about my competition?”

  Well, that was about as declarative as he’d been regarding his intentions. “There’s no competition, Mr. Dawson.”

  “You undervalue yourself, Miss Lockhart. You’ve become quite popular. I fear my chances for your hand are dwindling.” He drew her to a halt behind a shrubbery so that they were partially obscured from Lady Satterfield’s view from the library window. He turned and looked at her earnestly. “Let me be clear that I am in pursuit of your hand.”

  Nora winced inwardly. He was so kind, so dear. Yet, she couldn’t stop herself from longing for a different man, one who was not interested in marriage. She ought to be clear with Mr. Dawson, except he might be her only chance for the future she wanted.