The Duke’s Shotgun Wedding(21)
His jaw worked. “I see.”
She feared if she stopped now she would never get it all out, and her marriage would be doomed, so she plunged on. “It will not do for us to ignore each other during the day, each busy with some task or other, then fall into pleasure at night. Our marriage would not be based on anything of real substance, don’t you agree? I think an hour is not too much to ask of you.”
His gaze was completely shuttered by the time she finished. The seconds stretched out so long in such total silence that she worried she had made a dreadful mistake.
Her breath eased out in relief when he lifted his wineglass to her with a smile on his lips. “Come here Jocelyn.”
He dismissed the footmen with a glance. She went over to him, slightly nervous. She squeaked when he pulled her into his lap.
“Sebastian.” she whispered, scandalized.
He seared her lips with a kiss and she melted in his embrace.
“An hour a day,” he conceded between hard presses of kiss. “Then in the night when you tumble into my arms you will burn. There are times when I will be rough, riding you hard and quick.”
She moaned as he took her mouth in a drugging kiss.
Pleasure deepened his voice. “And then there will be the unhurried nights, when I take you slow and leisurely.”
“Don’t forget the days,” she murmured against his lips.
His laugh rumbled through her. “The days will be sinful, too, Duchess.”
A thrill skittered through her, terrifying and exhilarating. An overwhelming desire to make him need her as much as she feared she was beginning to burn for him swept through her. She sank into his kiss, her tongue loving his.
And she ignored the insidious little voice that whispered it was all a lie, and that she was leading her foolish heart straight to a wealth of pain.
Chapter Seven
“We do not celebrate Christmas in this family.” Sebastian’s tone was so forbidding that Jocelyn hesitated to speak further.
She rolled over on her side, taking in his magnificent form as he gazed out the window at the rolling planes of his estate.
“Why not?” she asked, her voice soft, her body sated. “The holiday season is magical. The laughter, the gathering of families and friends, and the gifts. It’s a beautiful time to grow closer, Sebastian. My sisters and I have longed for such a gathering, the last one we experienced was before our mother’s passing. The twins have never enjoyed such a festive occasion,” she said wistfully.
She waited patiently for his reply, too boneless to join him by the windows. The past two weeks had passed in stunning pleasure. Especially their nights. But in fact, the days held nearly the same enthrallment.
The hour each day that she had demanded had gradually lengthened to two hours, then three, which they spent either on a picnic, visiting his tenants, fishing through the ice holes on his lakes, or racing horses. Even though she loved their outdoor activities, their evenings of seclusion in the library, where they played chess or read in companionable silence, were the hours she treasured most. The nights left her weak and craving, filled with intense loving and passionate embraces. Those were the times she felt closest to him, and where he lost the reins of control that he held onto so tightly during the days.
In the night he was her lover in all ways—playful, gentle, demanding, fierce, and always intense. She fluffed several of the pillows and lazed her back against them. She furrowed her brows as she waited for him at least to acknowledge her wishes. His reaction had surprised her. Tonight was the first time she had mentioned the idea of a family gathering on Christmas to him. Victoria had visited several times, and they had been having tremendous fun organizing with Mrs. Otterbsy.
She saw the muscle in his jaw jump several times, a sure sign she had struck some kind of nerve with him.
“If you insist on having such a gathering,” he ground out, “you will strike the Dowager Duchess from the guest list.”
“Sebastian!” She scrambled from the bed, drawing on her silk robe to stand beside him. “She’s your mother. Please explain.”
He turned to her, and her heart lurched at his closed, hard face. She had not seen that shuttered expression in his eyes for more than a week. His guardedness had disappeared after the first week, and she had reveled in his relaxed manner. It made her think he might truly be happy with her.
“The subject is closed, Jocelyn. Anthony and the Peppiwells are welcome. But you will remove the Dowager Duchess from the list, do you hear me?”
She heaved a rebellious sigh. “Sebastian, I insist…”
“You…insist?”
Her heart thumped painfully against her ribcage. The look of warning he gave her sent a rash of goose bumps rippling over her arms. His eyes were as filled with ice as the winter lakes.