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The Haunting of a Duke(61)

By:Chasity Bowlin


Rhys had begun deciphering Elise's journal, though it was difficult for him. She had spewed her rage and madness on the page about her parents, his parents, and his brother. Elise appeared to fancy the lot of them as her enemies. She had also written detailed accounts of her sexual exploits. He'd never imagined her innocent and he'd known that her desires were dark, twisted with her madness, but he'd had no idea how perverse she could truly be.

They were only a few short miles from Briarwood, when he closed the journal in disgust and laid it on the seat beside him. “I simply can't tolerate any more of it."

"Have you discovered anything?"

"I've discovered that my late wife was indiscriminate in choosing her bed partners. Age, sex, race, or social standing had little importance to her."

"Sex?"

He had forgotten for a moment how innocent she truly was. “Forgive me, I shouldn't speak of such things to you, but yes, there are people, male and female alike, who prefer the sexual attentions of their same sex."

"And did Elise prefer women?"

"No, but apparently they would do if she were bored."

"Oh,” Emme said. She simply couldn't fathom it. “I know I shouldn't ask, but how?"

Her innocent curiosity was killing him. “Well, as for men, neither of us is prepared for that conversation. But for women, they use their mouths to pleasure one another. You certainly liked it when I did that to you."

She blushed, but said honestly, “I like everything you do to me."

His breeches grew painfully tight, and every jolt of the carriage was an agony. “If we don't change the subject, I am going to take you in this carriage."

"Is that possible?” She gasped.

He grasped her hand and pulled her onto his lap, positioning her so that she straddled him. “You tell me if it's possible."

She pressed down, feeling the hard ridge of his arousal against her now fevered flesh. “I think I wish we were further from home."

He chuckled. “I imagine that if the coach continued rocking after it stopped in the drive, the servants would be forever scandalized."

"And Lady Eleanor!"

He shuddered. “Well, thank you for bringing her into the conversation. You've effectively wilted me."

She shifted experimentally. “You don't feel wilted."

"Forgive my hyperbole. Move to your right just a bit."

She did as he suggested, and then the ridge of his erection nestled against the most sensitive part of her. The pressure was a delicious sensual onslaught. When he flexed his hips, she gasped with pleasure.

"Oh, my goodness. Do that again!"

He did, several times, swallowing her gasps of pleasure in a dizzying kiss. He maintained the pressure, thrusting against her, until she shuddered against him, her body going limp.

After a moment, she lifted herself up, and looked pointedly at his erection, which was still nestled, between her parted thighs. “You haven't—” she stopped, uncertain of the words.

"We are far from finished. If you look out the window, we just turned into the drive."

He helped her onto the seat beside him and together they restored order, as much as possible, to her impossibly crumpled skirts. She smoothed her hair, but there was no disguising her kiss-swollen lips or the flush that marked her pale skin.

When the carriage rolled to a stop he disembarked quickly and handed her down. He ignored the servants, ignored his mother and Eleanor, and quickly ushered her up the stairs.

Emme was blushing furiously and laughing by the time they reached their chambers. Her laughter died the minute the door closed behind them. He pressed her back against the door and plundered her mouth.

She returned his ravenous kisses, all the while fumbling with the buttons of his breeches, until at last, his manhood sprang free, hot and hard in her hand. She gripped him, sliding her fingers over him as he'd shown her. He groaned, thrusting against her hand. It wasn't enough. He lifted her skirts, hooked his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her, entering her in one swift motion, pinning her against the door with his body.

Emme gasped at the exquisite fullness. The feel of his body had become familiar, but no less thrilling. He shifted his hands, until the firm globes of her buttocks were nestled in his palms. He kneaded the tender flesh as he thrust deeply inside the heated velvet of her body. He struggled for control, clinging desperately to it, to give her release before surrendering to his own.

He pressed his mouth into the valley between her breasts, kissing and nipping at the tender flesh through the thin muslin of her gown. He lifted her higher, driving deeper into her, and she shattered against him.

He felt the familiar tension in his balls, the tingling at the base of his spine, and then he thrust deeper still, emptying himself deep inside her.