Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

“Here we are,” Wilhelm mused, his gaze sweeping over the room. His arm was still wrapped firmly around Genevieve’s shoulders.

Genevieve stepped inside, her gaze immediately drawn to the inviting flames. Although their warmth provided a semblance of comfort, it did little to ease the unrest that still clung to her.

The room in the coaching inn was small and modestly furnished, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows over the worn wooden floorboards. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow on the single, four-poster bed that dominated the space.

One bed. There is only one bed.

Wilhelm followed closely behind, his presence a quiet reassurance. He took her hand, his grip firm as he gently guided her further into the room.

“Come,” he said gently as he walked her towards the fireplace. “Warm yourself by the fire.”

He helped her settle into a plush armchair, its worn velvet cushions molding to her body. Genevieve’s gaze fixed on the dancing flames, and she extended her hands towards it as the warmth seeped into her bones.

Wilhelm poured a glass of water from the jug on the bedside table and offered it to her with a soft smile.

“Have a sip,” he instructed, his firm but encouraging voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. “It will help calm you down.”

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she inhaled deeply, striving to regain her composure.

She sipped the water, the cool liquid soothing her dried throat. The storm outside had subsided, the rain now reduced to a gentle patter against the windowpanes. The silence in the room was broken only by the crackle of the fire and the beat of her heart.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Wilhelm’s lips curled into a soft smile. “You need not thank me, Genevieve,” he replied, his voice low and steady.

Genevieve’s gaze met his, the flickering flames reflected in his eyes.

“You must think me so weak,” she mumbled, her voice tinged with humiliation as she lowered her hands from the fire, the warmth still lingering on her skin.

“What utter nonsense. You are strong. Stronger than you realize, Genevieve,” he assured her, his voice a gentle caress. Taking one of her hands in his, he gazed into her eyes. “You have faced and overcome far worse.”

Genevieve’s heart ached at his words, a wave of gratitude washing over her.

He saw her—truly saw her—beneath the facade of the cursed widow and the frightened girl.

“I…” she began, her voice trembling with emotion, but the words caught in her throat.

Wilhelm’s gaze softened with understanding. “It is all right,” he murmured. “There is no need for words.”

“I shall leave you to rest,” he announced, his voice regaining its formality. “I apologize for the inconvenience of this arrangement. It seems the storm has forced many travelers to seek shelter, and this was the only room available.”

Genevieve’s gaze followed him as he moved towards the other end of the room. “Wait,” she called softly.

He turned, his eyebrows raised in question.

“Where will you sleep?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Wilhelm’s lips curled into a small smile. “Do not worry, my Duchess,” he assured her. “I shall find a comfortable spot on the floor.”

Genevieve shook her head firmly. “That is not fair,” she insisted. “You have done so much for me already. I do not wish you to develop a bad back because of me.”

“I assure you, I am not that old, my Duchess.” He chuckled.

“Still, no.” Genevieve blinked at him, shaking her head as she spoke. “You cannot sleep on the floor.”

A low chuckle escaped his lips. “Ah, so you are insisting that we share the bed, Duchess? I never thought you to be so forward.”

Genevieve narrowed her eyes at him, though she knew the sudden heat in her cheeks betrayed her feelings.

“I am insisting because I have manners, unlike you. Do not let it go to your head,” she told him.

“Whatever you say, darling,” he replied with a wink.

She rose from the armchair, her movements stiff and hesitant. “I believe I would like to lie down,” she said, glancing briefly at the bed before meeting his eyes.

Wilhelm held her gaze with a hint of amusement. “As you wish, Duchess,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

He moved towards the bed, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the room. Genevieve’s breath hitched, her heart rate quickening as she watched him shed his coat and waistcoat, revealing his crisp white linen shirt and his tailor-made trousers.

He turned to face her, a slow, mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“I shall turn away while you undress,” he murmured in a teasing tone. “But do try not to tempt me into looking, Duchess. My willpower only stretches so far.”

Genevieve arched an eyebrow, and she flushed deeply. “Then it is a good thing that I have no intention of tempting you, Your Grace. I would hate to overestimate your self-restraint.”

Wilhelm chuckled and turned towards the window.

Genevieve quickly unfastened the lacings of her gown and corset, letting both fall to the floor. She stood nervously in her gauzy chemise, then quickly slipped beneath the bedcovers, the sheets cool against her skin. She shivered and pulled the covers tighter around her.

“You are trembling,” Wilhelm observed in a low voice as he turned back to face her.

Genevieve’s cheeks flushed, her embarrassment growing. “I… I am a bit cold,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Wilhelm’s gaze softened. “Turn over, Duchess,” he instructed, his voice a gentle command. “I shall warm you.”

Genevieve’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?” she exclaimed.

“Do not be alarmed, Duchess,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I am merely offering to warm you with my body. Rest assured, I am a gentleman. I was only jesting earlier.”

Genevieve hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She could not deny the attraction she felt towards him or the way his presence always caused her to quiver with excitement. However, she could not dispel her perception of his intentions.

Was she merely a pawn in his game?

“I…” she began, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

“I assure you, Duchess, I mean you no harm,” he promised. “Besides,” he added with an amused smile, “the bed is practically shaking with your trembling. I doubt either of us will get any sleep if you continue to shiver like a leaf all night long.”

She gave him a reluctant smile and rolled over. “Very well,” she conceded as she scooted closer to him.

Wilhelm stretched himself along the length of the small bed and turned to face her.

The warmth that radiated from his body seeped into her chilled skin, melting the remnants of the storm’s icy grip. His scent enveloped her, and she inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and allowed the world around her to fade away.

He wrapped one arm around her and buried his nose in her hair.

“Is this not much better?” he whispered. His warm breath on her neck sent a tingle of delight across her skin.

Genevieve’s body tensed up, then melted into his hold, her trembling subdued by the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“Y-Yes,” she admitted, her voice soft, almost lost in the small gap between them.

She could feel the warmth of his skin against hers, the solid strength of his body beneath the fine linen of his shirt, and the steady rhythm of his breath against her hair. She held her breath as she shifted and pressed her thighs together.

Genevieve opened her eyes as she suddenly felt an unmistakable hardness against her thigh.

Though she had never felt something like it before, the whispered confidences Marianne had shared returned to her and painted a vivid picture of what it could signify.

“Oh…” Wilhelm’s voice, a husky murmur against her ear, sent shivers down her spine. “Forgive me. It is difficult to remain unaffected by…” He gulped. “…you. Especially like this.”

She thought it wiser to pull away, put some distance between them and regain control of the situation. But the warmth of his embrace and the comforting scent of his skin held her captive.

“It is… all right. I understand,” she managed.

“I promise you,” Wilhelm continued in a low whisper that reverberated through her, “I will not do anything ungentlemanly. You are safe.”

Genevieve closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions swirling within her.

What am I so wary of? What would it be like if I gave in and allowed my desires to take control? After all, he is my husband.

“What if…” she murmured, her voice a hesitant whisper against his chest.

As if guided by an unseen force, her hand trailed down his chest and abdomen, until her fingers grazed his hard length through the fine fabric of his trousers.

Wilhelm inhaled sharply, his body tensing up beneath her touch. He shifted, turning her gently so that she faced him, his emerald-green eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“You are treading on very dangerous territory, Duchess,” he warned, his voice a husky whisper.

Consumed by his intoxicating proximity and the need to touch him, Genevieve tilted her head up and pressed her lips to his.

Wilhelm groaned and deepened the kiss. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and gently parted them. She sighed as his tongue touched hers and swept through the cavern of her mouth.

As she explored his mouth in turn, she could taste red wine on his tongue. She kissed him more deeply, her fervor rising as she cupped his face and ran her fingers through his hair.

Wilhelm abruptly broke the kiss and studied her face with wild eyes as he drew a deep breath. She could see the tempest of lust, regret, and determination that swirled in their depths.

“Genevieve,” he said, his voice shaky with restrained need, “you have been through enough tonight. This is not the time nor the place for me to…” He cleared his throat. “…claim you.”

Genevieve furrowed her brow, and a flicker of disappointment clouded her features. “But I—” she began.

Wilhelm silenced her with a dark look and shook his head. “No,” he said. “I want us to be alone, far away from everyone and everything that might come between us. Because when I claim you, Genevieve, I want you to scream my name freely, loudly, and without restraint. I want you to lose yourself in the passion of our lovemaking, to feel every inch of me and know, without a doubt, that you belong to me.”

He paused. “Besides, I do not intend to do everything with you in a single night, and certainly not in a room where I cannot press you against the wall and take you,” he added with an arrogant smile.

Genevieve shuddered as the need inside her grew.

“But for now…” Wilhelm’s voice dropped to a sensual whisper. “Allow me to ease your ache with a different kind of pleasure.”

He lowered his head, brushing his lips just below her ear, then slowly began to trace a path of passionate kisses down her neck. Each press of his lips sent delicious shivers through her body.

With one swift movement, he slid her chemise down her body. Before Genevieve could even blush, his mouth moved down the delicate curve of her shoulder to her collarbone.

He lowered his head, his lips never leaving her skin, until he reached the soft swell of her breasts. She moaned as his lips closed around one stiff nipple and his tongue flicked lightly against it. His mouth continued its exploration and followed the curve of her taut stomach, down to the sensitive, moist skin of her inner thighs.

Genevieve panted and closed her eyes to focus on the movement of his mouth as she surrendered to his touch.

His tongue drew a sensual line up each inner thigh until it reached the juncture between her legs.

“Oh,” a soft moan escaped her lips as her fingers tangled in his hair and her back arched in response.

He gripped her thighs with both hands and pulled her moist mound to his eager mouth. Her eyes flew open as his tongue lapped at her sensitive flesh and sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body.

“Wilhelm,” she moaned again as he pushed his tongue deeper into her and growled. She cried out as the sound reverberated through her wet cavern.

Wilhelm’s teeth nipped her tender pearl, and she shattered, her back arching as unfettered bliss exploded through her like a cascade of stars.

“Good girl,” she heard him say through her euphoric haze.

The room spun around her as he gathered her into his arms.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head as he whispered, “Sleep now, my darling.”

And sleep she did.