Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

A lexandra reveled in being held by Oliver. She felt secure with him and was relieved that he came to rescue her. She was so close to agreeing to anything her father asked her to do, even if it meant being his slave forever.

Yet, there were still some loose ends. She could still remember feeling anger and disappointment upon discovering that John betrayed her. Yes, she could understand his reason, but it still stung. It also reminded her how unsafe it was to keep a secret among the ton .

As for Oliver, she didn’t know what he was planning to do with her—with their life. Again, she understood why he did what he did, but she couldn’t believe that he had given up on her so quickly.

He was here, though, and that mattered. She was glad that he found her, but she wondered if he would have still followed her if she were already in the country.

Alexandra was ready to listen to his reasons, nonetheless. They were about to leave her father’s house when John stopped her.

“May I have a word, Your Grace?” he asked meekly.

Alexandra could see that he was trying to ignore Oliver’s glare.

“I must hear what he has to say, Oliver,” she said softly, patting her husband’s hand gently as if she could soothe him that way.

“If that is what you wish, Alexandra,” he replied gruffly, looking deeply into her eyes.

Whenever he did that, it was difficult to leave him. She wanted to kiss him, but she was uncertain if that was the wise thing to do. Not at this point.

“I will wait for you in the carriage.”

“I won’t take long,” she promised.

Then, she squared her shoulders and faced John. In a flash, she remembered the first time she’d met him. She was still a young girl, and he was a man who had several connections in the music world.

She remembered the awe, the excitement, and the feeling of accomplishment when he declared that she had true talent. At a young age, she realized that she didn’t want to be merely an onlooker when it came to the pianoforte. She wanted to be like her mother and more. Definitely more.

The years passed, and she discovered that she was indeed more. The notes were not merely a means to an end— she created the notes.

Now, the man who had helped her craft and sell her compositions stood before her, looking fragile and nervous. His long-fingered hands, which she used to admire, were clasped together as if in prayer.

“Yes, John? You must know that your betrayal hurt me. You have made me feel unsafe. I wouldn’t have dreamed of selling my compositions under a man’s name if I knew this would happen. Perhaps my naivete had led me to believe that I could do it without being detected,” Alexandra confessed.

“I am terribly sorry, Your Grace. There were rumors about where J. Lewis was submitting his compositions. Your father followed me there, confirming his suspicions. He said that there were notes that reminded him of your mother’s playing. The passion. The gentleness that mingled with ambition,” John explained, the look in his eyes pleading.

“I suppose you were put in an impossible position, John,” Alexandra murmured.

“You didn’t come for a long time, as you rightfully sent your messages with your maid. But he must have noticed something strange about our meetings. So, he spied on me again. It was then that he confirmed the rumors about me.”

“I am so sorry that you’re in dangerous situation, John. As much as I understand how confusing and restricting your situation is, you and James must keep your relationship a secret, unless you know you will be accepted. I promise that I won’t tell a soul about it, and my father wouldn’t dare after Oliver’s threat,” Alexandra reassured him, reaching out to touch his arm briefly.

“I won’t tell anyone about your identity either, Your Grace. Please tell the Duke that I am eternally grateful he decided to give Lord Hartwell a call this afternoon. It saved James and me.”

“It saved me, too.”

John smiled then. There was still a hint of sadness there, in the way the corners of his lips tilted down a little, but it was still a smile. Alexandra was glad to see that he was determined to move on.

“The Duke came to save you, Your Grace. I am merely a fortunate bystander who happened to be present when a man came to save the woman he loves.”

Oliver loved her?

Alexandra’s chest tightened at the thought. Could it be true, or was she merely raising her hopes?

“I wish you well, John,” was all that she could say. Perhaps they wouldn’t part ways as true friends, but they shared a terrible encounter with the same man. “And I forgive you. You were not given much choice.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I bid you farewell, for now. Let time decide if we will see each other again.”

“I hope you forget about J. Lewis, John. He must retire for now, until he is brave enough to face the challenge,” Alexandra murmured.

“J. Lewis who?” John asked with a grin before he turned around and walked away.

Alexandra took a deep breath before she walked to the carriage that awaited her. Ellen quietly followed. The Duchess felt guilty that she almost forgot her maid was there.

“I will ride in the other carriage, Your Grace,” Ellen said with a small smile.

Alexandra knew that it must have taken some courage for Ellen to say the words. It was not considered proper for maids to make suggestions. Then again, it didn’t seem right to let Oliver ride alone.

“I will see you at home, then,” she said.

She said it. She had finally called her husband’s townhouse her home.

In her room, Alexandra had already prepared for bed. She sat at her vanity and combed her brown curls, her eyes fixed on the reflection of her husband standing behind her.

“You are a marvelous woman, Alexandra,” he said softly.

“Marvelous? Didn’t you just tell this same woman to leave your home immediately?” she teased, though she still felt a little hurt.

“I am sorry, my darling. It won’t happen again. I was blinded by jealousy. Instead of thinking about you meeting with Prescott in private, I should have focused on your strength and independence.”

“Ironically, it was my father who instilled those qualities in me—by not being there for me. By being constantly condescending.”

Alexandra squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think of all the moments her father had been cruel to her. She remembered the sleepless nights she willed herself to finish her compositions for him.

“I suspected so, Alexandra. He made you strong by being weak. One day, he will realize what he has lost,” Oliver said, resting his hands on her shoulders.

“I had hoped that when I paid off his debts, he would see me as a person and not a burden. He often told me that I was nothing because I was a woman,” Alexandra lamented, her voice breaking.

She reached for the hand that was on her shoulder. It was warm and solid. It was Oliver.

“You are not a burden. I wish I had treated you better, but I was drowning in my own misery and bitterness,” Oliver explained, gently massaging her shoulders.

She moaned softly. She had not realized just how tired she was. Her muscles recalled how she and Ellen scrambled for her belongings and the seemingly perpetual tension they were in.

“We were strangers, Oliver. I can’t blame you for that. However, I must admit that I didn’t like you back then. I resented how I had been passed from one cad to another.”

Oliver chuckled softly, but his eyes were melancholy as they met hers in the mirror. “I had lost a chance to discover who you truly were, back then. You seemed to have quickly adjusted to life in the country, from what I heard. When I last visited our house there, the servants praised your practicality and tidiness. They miss you.”

“I miss them, too,” she whispered.

“Do know this, Alexandra. If you wish for us to leave London and live a quiet life in the country, you only need to tell me. I love you. I have loved you for some time now. It frightened me, at first. It made my head whirl and my chest hurt to think that you may love another man,” Oliver confessed, still holding her gaze in the mirror.

“Y-You love me?”

It seemed impossible. She was the spinster who could not find a husband. She didn’t want one. He was a wealthy duke. If her father was telling the truth, then her husband was indeed getting richer.

Perhaps her father had done her a favor by marrying her off to a duke. It might be the last good thing he did for her and she didn’t know it back then.

“I do. I had never felt like this with any other woman. Most women only wanted my title and money. My standing in Society. But you—you made me want you without even trying.”

“I hid a secret from you, Oliver,” she reminded him.

“As you said, it was during a time we didn’t know each other well. We were strangers.”

“Yes. I-I love you, too, Oliver. I think I’ve known it for a while. I didn’t like how it made me vulnerable, afraid that if you found out what my secrets were, you would bolt and leave. I cared about what you think of me. I wanted you to see me as someone who could live off her own money, but I was drowning because of my father.”

“You love me too?” Oliver asked, turning her chair around so that she could face him.

“Yes,” she whispered shyly.

Oliver didn’t wait for another moment. He pressed his lips to hers, and Alexandra quickly deepened the kiss. She clutched at his arms, squeezing them, then looped her arms around his neck while he wrapped her legs around his waist.

He was already hard, making her let out another moan. She ground her hips against him, trying to feel more of him. His heat and hardness rubbed between her legs where she needed him most.

But they were still fully clothed, and it was frustrating.

Oliver carried her to her bed and laid her down gently. Alexandra spread her legs to accommodate him. He took off his clothes, impatient and hungry for her. When he was fully naked, he kneeled between her thighs. She was still in her chemise, but she was the most alluring woman he had ever seen.

“Do you like this chemise, my darling wife?” he asked, his voice nearly a growl.

“I do,” she panted.

“Then I am terribly sorry. I must tear it off you. I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you plenty.”

With that final warning, he tore her chemise, revealing her nakedness. She was just as eager, arching into him, offering her breasts. His eyes darkened, the sight making his manhood throb.

“I’ve missed this,” he groaned as he dipped his head to taste her.

His lips were so close to her turgid nipples, but he wanted her to squirm. To beg. To want it. He blew hot air on them, making her whimper. Then, he licked one after the other as she ground her hips against his. When he sucked on one hard, she yelped.

“Oh, hush, dear wife, if you don’t want to wake up the whole household,” he teased.

Alexandra giggled softly, but then she whimpered again when her husband slowly drew her nipple back into the heat of his mouth.

“I need you now, Oliver. Please,” she begged, her voice breathy.

Oliver could remember when she was still an innocent, uncertain of what she wanted.

He loved her then. He loved her even more now.

Alexandra’s vision blurred as the pleasure washed over her. Her husband was eager to torment her with his tongue. That tongue knew just how to lick each nipple, and with his teeth, he grazed and nibbled on the tingling, sensitive spot.

A punishment?

No. Everything he did to her made her wild with love and desire. She never thought it possible before.

“I will always give you what you want,” Oliver said as he pulled her up until he was seated on his lap. His erection stood between them, teasing the lips of her sex.

“W-What do I do now? How do you want me?” Alexandra panted.

“Lower yourself onto me, slowly ,” he commanded, his voice hoarse with passion as he fisted the base of his hard length.

Alexandra did as she was told, sinking down onto him slowly, feeling every ridge and vein in his manhood. She was wet enough to make the descent comfortable, but the stretch was what made her want it more.

“Ride me, Alexandra. You know what to do,” Oliver purred, meeting her heavy-lidded eyes.

His wife held onto his shoulders, taking the reins of the man she loved. She couldn’t think of anyone else she could trust with her body and her life. Then, she rode him.

At first, it was a gentle canter, with her moving down and up slowly and deliberately. Then, she quickened her pace. The slapping of their skin and pants seemed to surround them as she felt his length hit places that made her eyes water and the coil in her belly tighten.

Tighter it became and ready to burst.

“That’s it, Alexandra. You are a goddess,” Oliver murmured.

Alexandra was trembling so hard that she could barely keep up the pace. Her husband must have sensed it because he gripped her hips hard and thrust up into her at a punishing pace.

“Yes, Oliver. Yes. That way. Please. God. No,” she moaned, no longer caring that the words did not make sense in the heat of her passion.

Oliver grunted as he spread her legs further apart and kept on thrusting. She was now convulsing with pleasure, and he soothed her by tonguing her nipples as he continued ramming into her.

Alexandra pushed her breasts together, wanting him to take them. Wanting him to take all parts of her. Swallow her whole and sink into her.

They were one. Body. Soul. Mind.

He suckled hard, pulling at her nipple with his hungry mouth but not pausing his thrusts. Alexandra reached the pinnacle, seeing stars behind her eyes. She felt weak and strong at the same time, her limbs loose even as Oliver flipped her over so that she was lying on her back. His final thrusts were more erratic, driving her to another release.

Then another.

Oliver was relentless this time.

“I’ve missed you,” he groaned as he slowed down his pace and spilled his seed into her.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said, pulling him down to her chest.

They were both drenched in sweat, but they didn’t care. They were sated. Loved.

“I love you. Please remember that, Alexandra. I wish that I had gotten to know you earlier. Loved you more. Made you safe. You shouldn’t have to go to places like Devil’s Draw. They are hell on earth,” Oliver said sincerely.

“I love you, too. While I wished I’d gotten to know you earlier, I must experience things on my own, Oliver. I can’t forever be the sheltered woman who only thinks of fairytales and romance.”

“You’re not that kind of woman either, Alexandra,” Oliver said in mock indignation, looking up at her face, his chin resting lightly on her breasts.

She giggled. She loved that he knew her enough to say those things.

“But perhaps I am now a fan of licentious literature,” she teased.

“Ah, that is something I can support. We will find more copies of such books if that will make you more amorous,” he agreed.

“I am amorous whenever I’m with you,” she admitted.

“Then it means our next mission won’t be much of a challenge,” he murmured, his breath warm on her naked skin.

“What mission?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Filling this house or the country estate with children,” he said, looking serious.

“Oh.”