Chapter Fifteen

Alice had known her hope for this moment was too forward—that a proper wife, a proper duchess, would likely not be capable of even thinking such a thing, let alone suggesting it.

But how could she not? The air between herself and William was thrumming with repressed desire, the need within her building for weeks, from the moment he had first kissed her against that tree she had known what she wanted.

What she needed.

What she craved.

That, surely, was the only reason she had said what she had said. Something so heathen, so scandalous she was surprised William had not pulled away. But she drew the line at discussing paint colors.

And so she spoke incautiously. "Or, I suppose, we could do the other thing you immediately thought of."

And now her husband's eyes were wide. "I... I don't know what you—"

It was time for action. Alice couldn't wait much longer. The ache between her legs had been growing since the door had closed behind their last guest.

Alone, at last.

"I think you do," Alice said, cutting across her husband with what she hoped wasn't too much barefaced eagerness. "Is this the time to go upstairs and... and truly become husband and wife?"

There. She had said it.

And it was too bold, she knew—but what woman wouldn't wish for such a thing with William Chance?

The raw animal energy of the man had never been so potent, and Alice had never been more willing to be swept away into his arms by his charm. She wanted to feel the crush of his fingers against her skin, the guttural moan in his throat as he kissed her—as he tasted her. She wanted to touch him, see his body jerk at the sudden heady pleasure. She wanted to know him, truly know him, as a wife knew a husband.

And, muttered a cruel voice at the back of her mind, you need to make sure, don't you?

Try as she might, Alice could not entirely banish the thought from her mind.

Yes, if she were truly to be William's wife—and remain that way for the rest of her life—they would need to consummate it. Without their joining, there was a possibility of annulment. Unlikely as it was, she could not take that risk. This marriage had to be true.

And it was. Alice looked into William's bright-blue eyes and felt the affection she had attempted to force down rise up once again. This all may have started because she needed a protector, a husband, someone to give her pin money to pay off Shenton, the man who had held terror over her for so long. But that was not how this was ending.

Alice chuckled with delight at the sudden shock in William's face as he realized what she was suggesting.

She wasn't just a duchess. She didn't just have a house. Money wasn't the greatest asset in this marriage.

She was a wife. She had a home. And she had the power to free herself, to bring Maude to her.

Everything was going to be all right.

For she loved him. Alice could almost cry out with relief. There had been no certainty, no definite knowledge that she would care for him—but William was a difficult man not to love.

"Oh, Alice," William murmured, leaning slowly forward.

And then not so slowly. Faster than Alice could have imagined, so fast she uttered a squeak of surprise, William had moved toward her and covered his body with her own, pressing her into the sofa.

If she had thoughts to speak, she could not have uttered them. Not with his lips pressed against hers, teasing them open, ravishing her mouth and causing tendrils of decadence to sweep through her body.

Anyone who could even think under such an onslaught was a better woman than she.

Alice acted instinctively, allowing herself all the freedom she had denied herself during their odd courtship. She pulled him closer. Her fingers met around the back of his neck, pulling his nape closer, welcoming him in.

The pressure of his chest against her breasts was torture, trapped as they were by her corset and stays, but she could hardly think of releasing them.

Not with servants about the place.

The sudden thought made Alice stiffen.

William ceased his kisses, pulling back with a worried expression. "Alice, I do apologize—"

"Don't you dare," Alice said darkly, a thumb stroking the back of his neck. "What on earth do you wish to apologize for?"

She blinked, trying to regain her equilibrium. Dear God, if the man kissed like that, just what he would be like in the bedchamber was anyone's guess...

"You... well, you seemed suddenly discomforted," said William, equally as discomforted. "I did not wish to—"

"I merely thought—the servants," admitted Alice, flushing at the very thought.

The idea that at any moment, Mrs. Ransome or Mr. Nicholls or any one of the numerous maids or footmen could enter this room and discover them—

Well. In flagrante.

But William, strangely, did not appear to be similarly abashed. To Alice's great surprise, he grinned. "I have taken the liberty of removing all servants from the place," he said quietly, leaning to brush a kiss on her neck so light, she almost couldn't feel it.

Alice blinked. "All—all the servants?"

Was he telling her they were alone in this huge townhouse? Truly alone?

William pulled back again to look deep in her eyes, and Alice could see his affection for her as clear as day. "Alice, I want tonight to be perfect. As perfect as I can make it, I mean, perfect for you, and I thought—well, I certainly don't want to be interrupted. Or restrained. Or quiet."

A shiver rushed through Alice. Dear God, the man was so much more complex than she had ever given him credit for. He had sent away the servants because he didn't want them to hear their moans of passion?

"—so we are alone, for tonight," William continued. "I hope that was the right thing. I will pay for their rooms at a hotel, obviously, I didn't turn them out onto the street—"

Alice had heard enough. She had been watching the careful twists and curls of her husband's lips for what felt like several years now and had a great desire to taste them again.

She moaned as she demanded William's mouth, demanded he parted his lips—and moaned again as he so willingly gave her entrance. His passion was equal only to hers, his hands moving down her body, one of them cupping her buttocks to pull her against his hip.

Against something rather hard, and long, and urgently pressing into her.

Alice gasped in his kiss and William possessively deepened it, his tongue claiming more.

The tingling ache between her thighs was growing, starting to heat so rapidly that Alice attempted to curl a leg around his hips. She was unable to, trapped by the fabric of her skirts and she moaned, twisting against him as she tried to rub herself against him.

Her response appeared to spur him on. William's kisses became, if possible, more passionate. His teasing tongue swept across her bottom lip before he nibbled it, hard, and Alice arched her back into him, her fingers starting to scrabble against his jacket, desperate to remove it.

Desperate to feel his skin against her own.

His hunger for her was something Alice could never have expected. The restrained, calm William had gone, replaced by a man who appeared desperate to worship her—to claim her as his woman.

Alice moaned in aching hunger. Oh, she wanted more, she wanted him now—

And something of her eagerness seemed to shoot through William. He pulled away, panting, looking at her with concern once again in his eyes. She almost pulled him down into her arms once more. Couldn't he not just let go for more than a few minutes?

"I... I did not hurt you, did I?" William said anxiously, his voice jagged and his fingers frozen against her body.

It was all Alice could do not to laugh.

Of course, he thought she was a complete innocent. A woman who had never been kissed before, who was discovering all of this new and fresh with him.

It had been one of the things she had most worried about in the lead up to this day, their wedding day. How would she pretend that she was enjoying herself if William was an ineffectual lover? And more importantly, how would she pretend she had no idea what she was doing, so he would continue to believe he was the first and only one she had known?

But Alice had underestimated William—not for the first time, and if this was anything to go by, not for the last.

His concern was for her. He was not measuring her against some vague standard of feminine innocence. No, William's entire focus was whether or not she was enjoying herself.

Which boded well.

Trying to push aside the licentious thoughts pouring into Alice's mind—of William making sure, very sure, she was satisfied—she tried to reassure the man who so evidently adored her.

Even if, perhaps, he shouldn't.

"I am quite well, I assure you," Alice said, surprised at how breathless she was. "You have not injured me."

"It is just—well, I have had to be very restrained in all my contact with you, until today," said William heavily, looking pained. "I very much wished to—damn it, Alice, there's no polite way of saying this. I wanted to bed you. Badly."

Heat swept across Alice's body, and she knew her cheeks had tinged with pink.

Which was all to the good. It would hopefully convince William of her innocent surprise.

Whereas it was, in fact, delight.

To be desired... it had been so long.

"I... well," Alice said, wetting her lips and reveling in the instant reaction it caused within her new husband. William groaned, rubbing his hips against hers with evident unrestraint. "I had no idea, William, I thought—I thought you did not permit yourself to feel such things?"

"Is it possible not to feel such things while in your presence?" William muttered, lowering his head to bestow a worshipful kiss just below Alice's ear.

Perhaps it was the kiss, perhaps it was the words—she did not know. All Alice was aware of was the sudden jolt of pleasure that tugged at her core.

And apparently, William had noticed.

Pressing her deeper onto the sofa, making it impossible for her to escape him—not that she had any wish to—William lowered his voice and murmured quietly as he trailed kisses from Alice's ear, down her neck, toward her collarbone. "Alice, I have wanted to do so much to you since you agreed to be my wife—no, even before. I have wanted to kiss you here... and here..."

Alice's eyelashes fluttered shut, unable to remain open as William growled such decadent desires into her ear.

Could she ever have predicted this?

"I have wanted to lift up your skirts and trail kisses up your thighs," he continued to murmur as his lips grazed her collarbone, drifting to her décolletage. "I wanted to slowly inch my way closer to your sex, to breathe you in, place my lips upon your—"

"William," moaned Alice, unable to stop herself.

Oh God, the picture he was painting—and his fingers were tight around her buttocks, sadly through the fabric of her skirt, but his mouth was moving lower—

"And I'd nuzzle you here," William muttered, nuzzling the curve of her breast as it strained against her corset, her breathing heavy. "And as my mouth would start to worship you, drinking your sweet nectar—"

Alice whimpered. How could she do anything else? Oh, how she craved the touch he promised, how she was desperate for him to please her in the ways he had apparently also wished!

Who was this husband of hers?

"—my fingers would reach up and take your breasts—"

"William, please," moaned Alice, clutching at him.

And though he did not precisely obey, he could sense her need, feel it, perhaps scent it, as she ached for him.

Alice gasped as William dipped his head and with his teeth, moved her corset to free her breasts.

Within a heartbeat, his mouth had closed around one of her nipples, teasing it with his tongue as it swooped around it before finally nibbling it experimentally.

And Alice almost lost herself. The sensuality, the intimacy, it was too much—yet not enough.

This was everything she could have hoped for and more. Here was a man who was not only good—a good person, with good morals, and good judgment—but a bad man, too. A man who wished to delight her, please her, pleasure her. A man who knew his way around a woman's body, just as much as she knew her way around a man's. And if he were not careful—

"William!" Alice gasped.

There had been no censure in her exclamation—how could there be, when he had done something so delightful?

As his mouth continued to worship her breast, William's hand had managed to somehow slip under her skirt. His fingers trailed a path up her thigh, the exact path he had just spoken of kissing, and Alice wiggled in eagerness, tried to open her legs, make room for—

"Oh God, yes," she moaned, eyes shut as she lost herself in the twin sensations.

William's tongue curled around her nipple and his finger slowly trailing across her slit.

"Damn, you feel so good," he groaned, his mouth only free for a second as he moved from one breast to the other.

She felt good? Alice could barely think—thinking was impossible as he slipped a finger inside her, teasing her nub just as his teeth tugged at her nipple.

"Oh, William, yes," she murmured, tilting her hips to invite him deeper.

The sensation of his finger inside her wet folds, achingly close to her center yet not close enough was surely sufficient to drive most women to distraction—but Alice had the simultaneous worshipping of her breasts to contend with.

And it was getting worse—or did she mean better? She hardly knew. The ache between her legs was building, building as it had not done for years, and Alice clung onto William's shoulders as his pace quickened, his mouth and fingers matching each other in a rhythm perfectly designed to destroy her.

"Please, please, please," she moaned, unable to help herself, unable to censure herself.

And why should she? She was with William, the one man who could make her feel—

"Y-Y-Yes, oh yes!"

And Alice exploded. Her body was no longer whole, all parts flying out in all directions, as William's thumb slipped inside her and pressed, hard, twisting slightly against the very core of herself.

Bliss like she had never known undid her. The ecstasy poured through her body like lava, twisting and shaking her limbs as she lost all control over body and voice and heart.

Her heart. Oh, it had belonged to him, William had already taken it. But this placed a seal upon it, branding her as his own. His very own.

It took what felt like a small age for the quivering sensations to dissipate. When Alice finally opened her eyes, it was to see William smiling, surprise in his expression.

"I..." He swallowed. "I've never known a woman to be so free in her pleasure."

Alice tried to laugh. "I've never known such pleasure."

A dark delight flickered across William's face. "Good. I... well, I suppose you might be too tired now for—"

"Come with me," she said in a low voice, brushing past what he had been about to say. "You've readied me, William, I'm warm for you, wet for you. Don't you want to know me fully?"

Alice had never seen a man rise from a sofa so swiftly. Though in fairness, she thought wryly as she attempted to stand on legs which only moments ago had been spasming, other parts of William had risen quickly enough.

She slipped her hand in his and pulled William to the door to the hall, but they did not quite make it.

Make it through the door, at any rate.

Pushing William against the wall by the door, Alice allowed herself the freedom to express all the gratitude she felt for his selfless lovemaking. It was a rare man who ensured his wife's gratification before his own, and he had to know that—William had to know how grateful she was.

By all accounts, he knew. William's frantic fingers started pulling up her skirts, his breathing ragged, and Alice pulled away with a teasing laugh.

"You may make love to me in a bed and nowhere else," she said with a mock severity that made William's eyes flash. "I am a duchess, you know."

"And I am your duke," William growled, throwing open the door and pulling her through it. "And I will have you where I say I will have you."

Alice's pulse skipped a beat in delight. That she could have found such a man with such depth of passion—passion for her!

It took a great deal longer than she had expected to traverse the stairs. Not because the staircase itself was particularly long. Alice guessed it was about twenty steps. She didn't precisely know, because every few steps, William pressed her against the wall and kissed her so passionately, it was rather hard to think. Or see.

Try as she might, Alice could not quite rid her husband of his clothes. As his mouth trailed over her shoulder, making tingles of delight shoot through her, she tried to pull away his jacket—but his hands were not free, too busy reaching under her skirts and cupping her buttocks, fingertips searing her skin.

And then all rational thought left her, and Alice succumbed to the passionate kisses of the Duke of Cothrom.

By the time they reached the ducal bedchamber, Alice was breathless, shoddily dressed, and had lost all her hairpins. Swathes of blonde curls cascaded down her shoulders, and she saw by the gleam in William's eye that he rather liked the effect.

Well, that was something worth remembering.

"You'll have to help me," Alice said as William slammed the door behind them and advanced toward her. "My corset, the gown, I can't—"

"I want you too desperately to worry about that," said William with a grin, not taking his eyes off her as his fingers lowered and started unbuttoning his breeches. "There will be plenty of nights for slow and sensuous lovemaking, Alice, but I admit, I am rather in need of plunging myself in you and losing myself. Do you mind?"

Did she mind?

Alice did not hesitate. Instead of attempting to remove her clothes, she stepped forward, pulling William into her arms just as his breeches slipped to the floor.

"William," she whispered as she kissed him, desperate for him to know just how eager she was, how her need for him matched his own. "Take me, William."

He needed no additional invitation. Sweeping her up in his arms, William took three strides and threw Alice onto the bed.

She gasped as she bounced, the mattress accepting her, and gasped again as William covered his body with hers.

But not quite. One of his hands cupped her cheek while the other hurriedly pulled her skirts up, parting her knees—not that Alice needed the incentive. Her own hands were reaching down to the masculine hips pressed against hers, searching for—

William inhaled with a hiss. "Alice!"

Alice did not look away as her hand cradled his manhood, guiding it toward her sex. "William."

She spoke his name as he entered her, slowly, slowly, and she did not look away as her body swelled and ached and moved, allowing him in, more and more of him.

Far more, in truth, than she had expected.

Alice flexed her hips from side to side, ensuring she could take in all of him, every inch, and William's breathing became more ragged as he palpably attempted to restrain himself.

"I-I—God, I never thought it would be so hard to—"

"Don't hold back," Alice said, reaching up to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Give me everything, William. I want everything."

It was, it appeared, the permission he needed. Groaning as he almost completely withdrew then plunged himself into her, William leaned against one arm and kissed her hard on the mouth as he started to build a slow yet steady rhythm.

Alice clung to him, his shoulders all she could reach, as the aching need in her started to build once more. Oh, did he know what he was doing to her? Did he have any idea the sparking throbbing he was creating?

Perhaps he did. The desperation William had spoken of was no jest—his pace quickened, and Alice could feel his need for her building, see it in the tension in his face.

And she was so close—

"Harder," she begged, unable to help herself, knowing it was unsavory for a woman to speak her need. "Harder, please, William, please—"

Her words were cut short as he obeyed, driving his manhood into her with reckless abandon, faster and faster, harder and—

"William!" Alice cried as completion overswept her.

And as her body rippled and rocked as her pleasure once again peaked, William swore loudly and jerked hard into her once, twice, thrice.

"Damn, Alice, Alice, oh—"

Their words and cries mingled, no thoughts given to loudness for they were alone, alone to lose themselves in their lovemaking.

And when, finally, the aftershocks ceased, William collapsed into Alice's arms breathing heavily.

She drew him to her, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes at what they had shared.

This was beyond what she could have hoped for, what she could have dreamed. Such a connection, such an intimacy—

"Alice?" came the muffled murmur from the man nestled into her neck.

A small smile crept across her face. "Yes?"

"I . . . well. I don't have words for—"

"Neither do I," she admitted softly, her arms tightening around him. "Oh, William."

For a moment, they were silent. Then—

"You've given me something so precious."

Alice swallowed. It was the final part of the deception, her husband thinking she had come to his bedchamber innocent—and it would only hurt him. There was no need to tell him, no need to ruin this moment.

"And I feel like... like I'm not alone anymore," continued William in a quiet voice, his hands on her hips, his body relaxed after so much tension. "Like... I don't have to fight for my brothers' status in Society anymore, I don't have to fight for my own respectability anymore. I've got you."

Alice blinked away tears and told herself the deception was over. She truly loved him, even if she could not yet say it.

"I will always fight beside you, when necessary," she said fiercely in a quiet voice.

She felt, as well as heard William's chuckle. "I know you will. You're my wife."