How to Lose a Duke in Ten Days (11 page)

It didn’t come.

She opened her eyes to find him gazing at her, no trace of his usual arrogance. His face was completely blank, devoid of any emotion. He gave nothing away.

“It’s you who must kiss me,” he said. “If you want your hint, that’s the deal.”

Pippa blinked down at him, wondering how in heaven’s name she was expected to initiate a kiss. She’d never done this before. The few times she’d been kissed had been by him, and he’d taken the lead each time—she’d merely been an eager participant. This was miles different.

A long silence stretched between them as she tried to puzzle out the best way to approach this. She would certainly have to tilt her head one way or the other to prevent their noses from colliding. That would be disastrous.

Should she cradle his head gently in one hand and tilt his head back slightly, as he’d done with her? Was that the proper way to go about it? It might be difficult, though, given the cushioned headrest and cramped spacing.

“If you wait much longer, we’ll both expire of old age.”

Brows furrowed, she glared at him. “I’ve never initiated a kiss before. I need a moment to consider my strategy.”

“Strategy?” He laughed. “You sound as though you are launching a navy ship.”

She frowned. “That would be far less difficult, I imagine.”

Honestly, she didn’t even know where to begin.

He lifted an expectant, aristocratic brow, urging her to get on with it. She swallowed, anxiety fluttering in her stomach like a swarm of butterflies.

I can do this.

She drew in a strengthening breath and before her courage failed her, she squeezed her eyes shut and lurched forward, her lips colliding violently with his.  The kiss was dry and awkward, his teeth gnashing against her lips painfully, which was only made worse by the jostling carriage.

They remained that way, frozen in place, for long seconds that stretched into an eternity. Finally, she eased away, heat burning in her cheeks, her heart fluttering wildly against her chest.

She’d completely bungled it. She should be pleased—if she repelled him, then so much the better. Only, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to repel him anymore. She was beginning to wonder, in fact, if being married to the duke would be such a terrible thing after all.

Straightening on his lap, she cleared her throat, suddenly shy. “I did try to warn you.”

“Shall I show you how it’s done?” he asked, pinning her with a dark gaze. 

She loved the way he looked at her as though he wanted to devour her right then and there. It made her feel powerful,
desired
, and she gloried in it.

Without waiting for her to respond, he dislodged her from his lap and pressed her against the squabs. His powerful body loomed over her.

The weight of him on top of her felt heavenly and she drew in a shuddering breath.  Slowly, he leaned down and gently brushed his lips against her mouth. “You are so damn beautiful,” he whispered against her lips. “You set my blood on fire.”

She trembled. Desire sang through her veins and she nearly whimpered under the sheer intensity of it. How she wanted this man. Never had she thought she would ever say such a thing about him, but the fierce, hungry need that gripped her was impossible to deny any longer. She was done trying.

Here, now, she would give him everything—her very soul if he wished it—anything to feel his skin gliding against hers, his thick shaft buried deep inside her. She wanted all of him.

With a low growl, he shifted his weight to the side and slipped his hand beneath her skirt, sliding up her naked calf to the curve of her outer thigh. His touch was soft, exquisitely gentle, and it sent a rush of heat sweeping through her body. 

His blue eyes darkened. “What do you want, Pippa? Tell me.” 

“I want to feel you,” she replied, breathless. 

He grinned down at her as his hand found the curls shielding her entrance. Slowly, he parted her slick folds and slid one long finger inside her. She drew in a startled gasp, flinching in reaction. 

“Shhhhh,” he whispered, as though soothing a startled doe. “I won’t hurt you, Pippa. Do you trust me?” 

Her heart tightened when she realized she
did
trust him. “Yes.”

He was still inside her, and she slowly relaxed as he gently withdrew his finger, his thumb brushing over the swollen bundle of nerves just above her entrance. Heat pulsed through her, and her head swam, dizzy with pleasure and raw, frantic need. 

She moaned, moving restlessly against him. “Please, Lucas…”

His smile was sinful as he toyed with her, swirling, pinching, before pushing one, then two fingers back inside her slick channel. He felt so good; she nearly choked on a sob. Exquisite pleasure radiated in waves through her body. She was close, so close, on the edge of something truly glorious.

He trailed kisses up the column of her neck, then the underside of her chin, his soft lips hot and wet against her skin. “I’m going to make you come,” he murmured.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he meant, didn’t care. All she could focus on were the sensations spiraling in her core…

He plunged his fingers impossibly deep, his thumb pressed against her sensitive nub. Sucking in a breath, she gripped his jacket, bunching the fabric in her fists. She was going to die, she was sure of it. No one could endure this much pleasure and live to tell the tale. Her entire body, every nerve, was coiled tight, ready to burst. She arched her back as the pleasure peaked, cresting within her like a tidal wave.  Then all at once, it came crashing down, swallowing her whole, pinning her beneath an ocean of hot, riotous pleasure.

He caught her scream with his lips. His tongue swept into her mouth, swirling, conquering, swiftly taking control, dominating her with a fierce, hungry need as her entire body pulsed with the last tremors of her release.

It was a full minute before she could even begin to form a coherent thought. When she finally opened her eyes, he was on his knees in front of her, hands resting on her thighs. His gaze was so hot, so intense, she felt herself melting all over again.

Feeling bold, she placed one hand on his chest, guiding him into the seat beside her, then stood and drew her leg over his thighs, straddling him. “Thank you for the demonstration. Perhaps I should practice.”

He smiled up at her wickedly. “By all means, take the lead.”

As she gazed down at him, the sight of him at ease, pliant, struck her. This powerful duke was completely at her mercy—his pleasure was hers to command, and she found the thought thrilling, exhilarating. He was giving her control, however small, and she relished it.

Curling her fingers around his cravat, she tugged him up until his lips met hers. And then she kissed him—pouring everything into it. Her fear, her uncertainty, every perplexing emotion she felt for him. 

His arms curled around her waist and tugged her close, her breasts pressing against his hard, muscled chest through the fabric of their clothes. Beneath her the steel length of his erection pressed against her center.

Her body still hummed from his earlier ministrations, but already, she wanted more. 

She rocked her hips forward, then back in a frantic attempt to relieve the pressure that was slowly beginning to build again between her thighs. But the more she moved against him, the more intense that pressure grew, until she was sure she’d shatter all over again.  

He shifted beneath her, lifting his hips to meet her rhythm. There were too many layers between them, and confined as they were in such a small space, she couldn’t move as she wished to. She longed to claw every piece of fabric off his body and feel the heat of his skin against her own.

She kissed him again, and this time there was no awkwardness, no hesitation. Her tongue swept greedily into his mouth and twined with his. It was as though he’d awoken something within her, something that would not rest again without satisfaction.  

He broke away from her lips. “Pippa…” Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her away from him. “We can’t continue. His voice was rough. “Not here.”

She leaned back in. “I believe this is
my
kiss,” she said playfully. “And I don’t wish to end it quite yet.”

“If we continue, I won’t stop.”

She licked her lips. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He took her hand and placed it on his falls. “Do you feel that?”

She swallowed and nodded, curling her fingers around him through the fabric of his breeches. He was hard, like iron, and thick.  “Yes.”

“It needs to be inside you,” he said matter-of-factly.

She tightened her grip, testing its rigidity. He hissed in response and her eyes flew to his. He looked like a man tormented, and she smiled. She preferred this gentle, vulnerable man to the one who’d walked into her father’s parlor demanding her hand in marriage. This man was real, genuine. Irresistible.  

Her eyes flicked up to meet his. “I
want
it inside me.” 

Her thoughts were cast back to the erotic illustrations Charles had jokingly showed her years ago. She wanted Lucas to do those things to her, to take her in every way imaginable. And it went beyond the physical. There was a powerful connection between them, an elemental pull, and she was filled with the sense that this was where she belonged. Here, with this man.

Just then, the carriage came to a halt and Lucas pulled away, smoothing her skirts back over her legs. She almost sobbed with the loss of him, but managed to swallow it back.

He tilted her chin up and placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. “We’re here.”

*   *   *

Lucas’s entire body was coiled tight. He’d come so close to taking her, right there on the carriage floor. In fact, it still sounded like a damned good idea.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you did that on purpose just to vex me.” She let out a breath and allowed him to help her out of the carriage. Her cheeks were flushed from her climax, and just the memory made him hard again.

Christ, she’d been so damn tight, so responsive, and for a moment, time itself had stopped.

She was
his.

The words sang through his head, and a deep sense of contentment filled him. Never before had he wanted a woman so completely. She was life, vivacity, and she challenged him like no other woman ever had. She was an anomaly—a beautiful, intelligent anomaly, and he wanted
all
of her, not just her body.

Glancing up, she drew in a breath as she caught her first glimpse of the house. He knew what she saw, and it was precisely why he’d purchased it. It was large, stately, in the classic style with ivy crawling across the white façade. A sweeping lawn stretched out in front of the house and slipped down to a small lily-pad-covered pond. Ducks glided across the surface of the water, adding to the quiet, peaceful scenery.

“Where are we?”

“We’re in Stratford, and this” —he swept his hand up, indicating the house—“will be our home during the Season. I purchased it the day before last.” 

She stared up at the house, wide-eyed, as though it were an apparition. “Why would you buy a home here, when you have such a beautiful town house in London?”

He shrugged. “You prefer the country, and I must be in Town during the Season to sit in Parliament and attend to business. We will make this our home for those months, then return to my estate in Cumberland come summer.” 

She pointed to a pile of wood planks that were stacked off to the side. “What are these for?”  

“I sent a message to my builder late yesterday, commissioning a shelter to be built out back, near the barn, for your animal sanctuary. It will have several stalls and a fenced-in area where the dogs may roam free in the afternoons. Heating will be a bit of a problem, but I’m confident we’ll find a solution.” 

She blinked. “I hardly know what to say. It’s beautiful. Perfect, in fact. I never expected you to go to so much trouble for me…”

Satisfaction swelled in his chest. Somehow, against all odds, he’d managed to please her. For the past week, she’d been so determined to
not
be pleased, he was beginning to wonder if it were even possible. This was quite the victory.  “Come, let me show you inside.”

He tugged on her hand, pulling her into the house, excitement rushing through him. He rarely felt such an emotion, and the novelty wasn’t lost on him. It was a new, wondrous sensation, and he had her to thank for it. She made him feel vibrant, alive. A feeling he hadn’t experienced since youth, before his parents had fallen ill.

His heavy footfalls echoed in the emptiness as he led her through various rooms—the library, the study, the billiards room—all empty. The only room semi-furnished was the master bedchamber. He’d had a bed brought in two days ago, when it was clear he would need to stay for a couple of days to organize the renovation. His steward would handle the details, but it was Lucas who decided what improvements needed to be made.

They finally stopped on the fourth floor, where the nursery was situated.  The walls were already painted a bright, cheery yellow, and the wide, arched windows drenched the room in sunlight.

Lucas drew up behind her and gripped her hips, pulling her against him. Her rounded backside fit against him perfectly, so soft and curvaceous—so damn tempting. “Do you approve?”

“Most assuredly.” She sighed, leaning back, melting into him. “I don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve managed to astonish me…in more ways than one.”

He turned her around to face him, and when her vibrant green eyes met his gaze, it felt as though the ground had shifted beneath his feet. This had all begun as a gambit to secure her father’s mines. Marrying Pippa had seemed a small price to pay for such a rich reward. But now, looking down at her delicate face, he wondered whether it had been fate or chance that had brought them together instead.

Leaning down, he kissed her soft throat, inhaling her clean lemon scent. Tendrils of auburn curls had escaped her topknot and brushed against her creamy shoulders. He could remain like this all day, buried in her essence, breathing her in.