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Chapter 18

Emmaline wasn't sure what had come over her, but she liked it, even more so than she would ever care to admit. Sitting upon Alex's knee in the club, she felt adventurous, scandalous, desired.

The eyes of nearly every person in the room were on them, some looking discreetly while others stared openly.

The debauchery that had paused upon her entering the room, remained so until Alex's hand slipped beneath her skirts once more. This time, it remained here, travelling higher and higher.

Emmaline's heart hitched into her throat. His touch was warm and his hand surprisingly soft. His gentleness was intoxicating, and she angled her pelvis towards him instinctively.

"You are a little minx, aren't you?" he whispered in her ear, and she breathed a deep and desire-filled sigh.

"I did not intend to be," she admitted. "I merely came to support you."

She gripped her arms more tightly around his neck as those around them all started to return to their business. The air once more became thick with debauchery, women moaning, men groaning, the gamblers laughing, joking and yelling above the music.

The smokey incense was heady all around her, but it was not what made her head spin.

"Do you wish me to stop?" Alex asked and Emmaline shook her head.

"No, please, don't," she blurted out, and his fingers slipped between her thighs. He touched her in the most sensitive area imaginable, his fingers stroking so delicately that she could barely feel it at first. He added pressure until she moaned, biting her lip against the urge to scream.

"That…that feels…" she gasped near his ear. She felt more than saw his smile and heard it in his tone when he finished her sentence for her.

"Good?"

"Yes," she breathed out.

"Emmaline, you have quite unmanned me," he whispered, and Emmaline could not help but giggle, for beneath her, pressed against her buttocks, she felt his manhood. He most definitely was not unmanned. In fact, he felt so large and throbbing beneath her that she was almost frightened—almost.

In truth, she was far too hot for him to be frightened at all. In fact, she was excited and fascinated and quite intoxicated.

The half-naked women, the writhing bodies all around her, the smell of sweat and pleasure all around her was almost too much to bear. She wasn't at all sure she could contain herself.

She just barely tried to, allowing one hand to slip down from around his shoulders and beneath her hip, stroking his rock-hard manhood in his britches until it was his turn to groan.

"When you arrived, I had a feeling you wished to put on a show, but I did not expect this," he growled into her ear and there was a warning in his tone that told her to ease off a little.

"Do you wish me to stop?" she asked, feeling ever naughtier. A part of her thought that even if he said yes, she would not be able to.

"No but you must, or I shall take you right here and now," he groaned in her ear and Emmaline's insides fluttered. A pool of heat trickled beneath her thighs, and she was sure he could feel it beneath his hand for his finger dipped deliciously inside her where only her own fingers had been before.

"Alex…" she breathed his name, barely more than a whisper. The smell of him wrapped all around her now, hot and sweet as cinnamon, and her mouth watered for him.

"You have no idea how much I need you," he whispered into her ear, his breath caressing her earlobe in a way that caused her to shiver with delight.

"Then take me," she responded, willing to give herself to him in that instant. It did not matter that they were surrounded by a room full of people. It did not matter that they were masked and not at all themselves. It only mattered that she needed him. She was so hot and bothered that she wished to rip off her own gown and run naked through the room, screaming about how much she needed him.

Never in her wildest dreams had she desired somebody so badly. Though a virgin, she had the same womanly urges as every other woman, or so she thought. But this, this was something else entirely. This need was so powerful she felt she might quit breathing if she did not have him soon.

"Not here," Alex protested, and she was disappointed when he slipped his hand out from beneath her skirts, "Not like this."

Would he truly keep her waiting so impatiently? The desire was painful inside of her now, her entire body ached with her need for him.

He raised his hand then and whispered, "Open your mouth."

Emmaline's whole body shivered when she smelled the sweet scent of herself on his fingers just beneath her nose.

"Why?" she asked.

Though she could not see his eyebrows for his mask, Emmaline was certain he had raised one as he growled, "Do not question me. Open."

Giddy with desire, she did as he asked and when he slipped his index and middle finger into her mouth, she closed her lips instinctively, sucking her own nectar from his digits with a low moan.

She felt his hand tremble against her lips, and he groaned as if her ministrations were agonizing.

When he pulled his fingers from her mouth, Emmaline almost bit down to stop him. Instead, she watched with wonder as he slipped them into his own mouth. The look of pleasure that burned in his eyes was enough to make her quiver anew.

"This is my promise you to my devil lady," he whispered to her, "I have tasted you and so, I shall have you tonight."

The evening might have lasted only a few minutes or maybe even hours, but all the while Emmaline remained draped over The Devil Lord's lap, she was filled with desire. It was enough to intoxicate her even without the glasses of wine supplied by none other than Sean who remained like a shadow at the base of the throne, a watchdog of sorts to keep the peace within the club.

And by the time the place started to empty out, Emmaline wasn't sure how long she had been there. All she knew was that she had enjoyed herself immensely, watching the goings on with utter fascination, getting more than a few ideas of what might be expected once she and the duke were finally alone again.

On her first night in the club she had been both disgusted and darkly intrigued by the goings on, blushing at the sheer depravity within the walls of the club. But tonight, she had stared with open fascination as women dropped to their knees and took their partners manhood in their mouths or turned around, pulled up their skirts and simply bent over the nearest piece of furniture to be taken from behind.

It was sheer, unadulterated depravity and though she knew it ought to have disgusted and sickened her, she could not help but like it.

She liked even more so the way that Alex plucked her up into his arms the moment that the club had emptied, making her feel as though she were as light as a feather.

Feeling the muscles in his chest and arms tense and powerful wrapped around her, she quivered and asked, "Where are you taking me?"

Behind the mask, he smiled as devilishly as his disguise.

"Somewhere more appropriate," he told her as he started to walk down the steps of his throne. Though she felt she could trust him implicitly, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and clung on for dear life.

A part of her felt that if she let go, she might suddenly wake up and realize that all of this was a dream.

It was only once he had carried her up two flights of stairs, from the basement to the apartment above the main part of the club, that he finally stopped before the door of his master bedroom within the building.

"Are you sure that this is what you want?" he asked, looking down at her with obvious uncertainty in his gaze. It was mixed with something else, fear perhaps, as if he was worried she might say no.

Gulping past the hard lump in her throat, Emmaline nodded.

"I need to hear you say it," he said, his voice suggesting that his throat felt as thick as her own did.

Struggling to speak, she whispered, "Alex, I want you to take me to bed."

The meaning in her words seemed to cause them both to tremble and Emmaline's insides fluttered as Alex used his elbow to twist the doorknob and his foot to kick it the rest of the way open.

Never did he give the slightest inkling that he might drop her. He remained steadfast and powerful as he carried her into the room.

She gasped at almost the very same moment that Alex did.

"Did you do this?" she asked, astonished.

This was not the first time that she had been in the master bedroom. In fact, she had slept there on nights when Alex insisted she join him at the club, but she had refused to go with him to the basement. But never had she seen it like that before.

The room had been decorated with the same red candle lanterns as the basement below, and the heady scent of incense filled the air. Most surprising of all was the large bathtub that had been placed beside the roaring fireplace. On its steaming surface was a layer of red rose petals and as Alex gently placed Emmaline on her feet beside it, she smelled the scent of lavender oil.

"How could I have?" Alex pointed out, still holding her in his arms even though she now stood before him, both of them gazing into the depths of the oiled water. "I have been with you all night."

"Then who?"

Alex looked as confused as she, but the answer seemed to come to them both at the same instant as they both said, "Sean."

Together, they laughed and laughed until Emmaline started to blush with embarrassment. She turned her head away on instinct though there was no way he could have seen it past the mask she was still wearing.

"It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good bath," Alex pointed out, "Perhaps I should retire back downstairs so you might—"

Emmaline cut him off. She gripped hold of his hand and insisted, "Together."

Her heart raced as she said the simplest of words for it meant so much more than it had ever meant before. She squeezed his hand, gazing up into his dark eyes, past the mask he still wore and past the disguise he had so carefully constructed to the man who was so clearly concerned for her comfort.

"Are you certain?" he asked once more, causing her to smile with tears of joy in her eyes. How she had gotten lucky enough to find such a gentle and kind man behind the devil's mask, she would never know.

"I have never been more certain of anything in my life," she assured him and with that she released his hand, turning her back upon him as she added, "Will you help me?"

Silence reigned for several moments and Emmaline worried that she might have gone too far too soon. Then, she heard him clear his throat and seconds later, she felt the tug of his grip upon the laces of her bodice.

Together they worked to undress her, unlacing every garment with great care. Having found it among the old gowns in the trunks of his main London house where they were staying, she was glad that it seemed to have been a success, though it was more than a little inconvenient now with all its layers and laces.

Still, it was a most teasing experience as with every layer removed, she felt herself growing closer and closer to the duke's touch. And soon, she stood before him in nothing but her stockings, her back still to him. Self-conscious like never before, Emmaline wrapped one arm around her breasts and placed her other hand between her thighs, hoping to cover what remained of her modesty.

When his arms snaked around her, gripping both her hands, she breathed a deep sigh. The way his still clothed body pressed against her bare back was infuriatingly wonderful.

"Do not hide your beauty from me," he whispered, pulling her hands away from her. As he tugged gently upon her right hand, she spun to face him.

He raised the same hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles delicately before he stepped back and started to undress himself.

As he did so, his eyes devoured every inch of her. Emboldened by the desire in his gaze, Emmaline dropped her hands to her sides and allowed him to eat up every last morsel. She smiled, biting her lip, aware it was all he could see beneath her mask.

And finally, when his garments had joined her own on the floor, Emmaline could not stop from doing the same to him. Dressed in nothing but his mask, she could finally see the true severity of his injuries. It was not only the one side of his face that was burned but much of his neck and torso, too. There was even some scarring on his arm and ribs and the sheer painful look of it made her yelp.

"I should have warned you," he growled low in his throat, taking a step back. He reached for the robe that hung on a chair nearby.

Before he could pick it up, Emmaline closed the distance between them and grabbed his hand. "Don't."

"I did not wish to frighten you," he said, turning away the ruined side of his body.

"You did not frighten me," she said, pulling him back around to face her. She lifted her free hand and asked, "May I?"

She heard him swallow hard before he gave a curt nod.

Lifting both hands, Emmaline pushed up onto her tiptoes and reached around his head to undo the ribbon that was the only thing holding his mask in place.

His body was hard and still as stone as she removed it, revealing the handsome ruin of his face. She allowed the mask to drop from her hands, leaving them pressed upon his cheeks as she looked him deep in the eyes and said, "I see you, Alex, and you do not frighten me."

Silence reigned once more but, in his eyes, she saw a world of hope and affection, one that made her head spin.

When he raised his hands and asked, "May I?" Emmaline swallowed hard, nodding.

His touch was ever so gentle as he undid the red ribbon that was holding her mask in place. His fingertips barely grazed the flesh of her neck as he lowered it down and dropped it onto the sheepskin rug at their feet.

He gazed back at her then, both their faces exposed, and said, "I see you, too, Em."

Her entire body trembled then. Nobody ever called her Em save for her family, save for those who loved her. Was that what he was trying to tell her?

She didn't dare to ask. All she could do was respond with a kiss and so she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes once more, pressing her lips to his with all the passion that coursed through her body.

Alex took her in his arms once again and for a second, she thought the floor was falling out from beneath her feet. Instead, she found herself hoisted up, his hands cupping her buttocks firmly.

"Alex, what are you—" she did not get the chance to finish the question or even make a protest as Alex stepped into the bathtub, holding her firmly in his grasp.

Before she could stop him, he dropped down into the water, carrying her with him. The oily water immediately soaked through her stockings, but she no longer cared as his lips consumed her own.

She straddled him willingly, his hands still firmly gripping her rear, pulling her ever closer to him. Her bare breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples hardening at the warmth of his skin against her own.

Beneath her, even through the water, she felt his rock-hard member pressing up against her, rubbing against her sex with the movement of the water.

"Mmm…" she moaned and when his lips parted, she couldn't help herself. She sucked gently, taking his bottom lip into her mouth in a way she had seen another woman doing that evening.

"Ahh!" he cried out and had he not pulled her ever tighter to him, she might have pulled away. It was only when she felt his hands behind her head that she knew it was not a cry of pain but of pleasure.

The second she released his lip, his tongue dipped into her mouth, and she tasted him. She tasted the wine on his breath and the simple sweetness of him, enjoying every last second as she started to gyrate her hips, rubbing her most sensitive organs against his, battling the urge to take him inside her right then and there.

"Steady now," he whispered gently against her lips as he started to remove the ruby pins that were holding her hair in place. "I want this to last. I want you to remember this."

And Emmaline knew that she would. She was certain she would remember this evening for the rest of her life.

One by one, he removed her hairpins and the curls fell down around her, cascading into the water until they were like a curtain around them, blocking them off from the rest of the world as they kissed over and over.

She ran her own fingers through his hair and gripped the roots, pulling his head back just as she had also learned from the women in the club.

He seemed to like that, his smile a devilish sneer as he gazed up at her and ran his fingers through her locks. "You are so beautiful."

"As are you," she whispered and before he could argue with her, she kissed him again.

They remained melded together, kissing all the while as Alex slipped deeper and deeper into the bath, taking her with him.

Soon he was practically laid on his back, his knees bent behind her as she laid atop him, only their heads above the water.

Her hair, now soaked, hung around them still until he brushed it back behind her ears and whispered, "I could lay like this forever."

His words caused such a fire within Emmaline that she whimpered, "As could I."

But then she remembered the burning need between her thighs. It had not been lessened by the water. In fact, the warmth of the liquid had only enraged the flames and she rubbed herself against her husband like a cat in heat, utterly unable to hold back for fear of embarrassment or doing something wrong any longer.

All their boundaries were gone, all their walls broken, and she wished to take the opportunity while it was still open to her.

"Alex, I—" she whispered but he lifted his hand from the water and pressed his wet index finger against her lips. Then he replaced it with his own lips, kissing her just as passionately as before, if not more so.

His hands stroked down over her back, cupped her buttocks and pulled her up ever so slightly, his cock bouncing up between her thighs. She felt the tip grow dangerously close to the entrance of her body and her breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering so hard she was sure he must be able to feel it against his chest.

And just when she thought he would enter her, he started to rise from the bath once more, again carrying her with him.

Disappointment threatened to overwhelm her as he carried her from the bath, the water dripping from their entwined bodies, her hair hanging in lank, wet curtains around them both.

"I wish to make love to you properly," he whispered in her ear as he laid her down on the bed and came down on top of her.

Unable to respond for fear she might say the wrong thing, Emmaline took his face in her hands and kissed him hard, willing him to do just that.

Her thumbs stroked his high cheekbones and when she felt the scarred side of his face, she continued to stroke just that side, hoping he would sense the love and affection she had for him.

"Please…" she breathed when his hand slipped down between their bodies and he took his manhood in hand, preparing to enter her. "Please, Alex…"

She opened her legs wide and angled her pelvis up toward him. Never in her life had she felt such wanton desire before. Never had she needed something so badly that she felt she could scarcely breathe.

"Are you quite certain?" he asked, and she felt him smiling against her ear before he nibbled her lobe, rubbing the tip of his cock against the outer lips of her maidenhood in a way that threatened to send her quite mad indeed.

"Yes!" she screamed the word, thrusting her hips toward him so violently that she startled even herself. "Please!"

His lips came down on her throat then and ever so gently, he slipped himself inside her. One inch at a time, he moved, devilishly slowly until she felt her body opening up to him.

Slick with her own desire, she felt him slide in with only the slightest discomfort. Astonished at how easily her body took the huge magnificence of him, she opened her legs wider, gasping when she felt the pressure of his manhood stretching her open.

He paused his lips caressing the flesh of her throat, his hand cupping her breast and thumb and forefinger squeezing the hardened bud of her nipple ever so gently.

He didn't move again until she wrapped her legs around him and urged him deeper. He groaned with such pleasure as the length of him entered her that she could not stop her own moan from escaping her lips.

The wondrous sensation of this man filling her up was like nothing she had ever experienced before, and it brought tears unbidden to her eyes.

She gasped when he started to thrust, moving in and out, his lips leaving her throat. But when he pulled up to look down at her, he paused.

"What is the matter?" he demanded, his tone more than a little concerned. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," she whimpered, fighting back the tears, smiling with unbridled affection. Gripping his face in her hands once more, she breathed, "Don't stop."

Stretching her neck up, she kissed him and guided him back down on top of her.

With such tenderness, he kissed her in return, thrusting inside her once more. She moved her hips, thrusting upwards to meet him, the sheer size of him filling her fit to bursting. And burst she did, her insides exploding with a pleasure the likes of which she had never known and feared she never would again.

"Em…" he breathed in her ear in a long and drawn-out moan of pleasure. Her insides squeezed tightly around his cock, and she felt his throbbing member growing harder still.

"Alex!" she screamed his name, her head tilting back as she was overwhelmed by sheer, explosive, all-consuming pleasure. "Alex!"

Over and over, she screamed his name, not caring who might still be about to hear, not caring if anyone on the street below might be able to hear her.

"Fuck!" he growled then and for a second Emmaline thought perhaps it was she who might have hurt him. Her hips stopped thrusting, she opened her eyes—only now realizing she had closed them—and saw the look of sheer pleasure mirrored upon his expression. "Emmaline!"

As he growled her name, his entire body grew rigid, trembling in what appeared to be an uncontrollable convulsion.

"Alex?" she gasped, her heart skipping a beat.

He groaned then and she felt hot, thick liquid pulse inside her, his cock throbbing still with the spilling of it.

It was only then she realized what had happened and a small, devilish smile of her own spread across her face.

"You little minx," he whispered when he saw the smile. He panted hard with the effort of all they had just done.

He kissed her tenderly upon the lips then, another upon her forehead, before he slipped from her and dropped down onto the bed beside her.

Before she could say or do anything, he slipped his arm beneath her and pulled her over onto him, encouraging her to rest her head upon his chest.

And as the candles in the lanterns slowly started to die down, the devil lord whispered, "My devil lady, I do believe I may be falling in love with you."

Emmaline did not dare to speak. She barely even dared to breathe. The bliss surrounding them, the tenderness of his words, was too sweet to risk. And so, she breathed out a sigh and nuzzled closer to his chest, running her fingers through the hair that grew where his scars did not touch.

It was only when she was sure that he had fallen into a pleasure-induced slumber that she dared to gently trace her fingers over the silvered scars upon his chest.

"Sleep well, my scarred devil duke, for I believe I am falling in love with you too," she whispered into the darkness, wondering whether some part of his unconscious mind might actually hear her.

Whether he did or not, it did not matter, for she was certain that one day not too far away she might just find the courage to tell him again, not only with her body as she just had but with all the wondrous words she had read about in romance novels over the years.

And for once, she felt as though she may just have fallen into the pages of one of them. It was a girlish, and perhaps even foolish thought, that helped her slip into an easy and comfortable sleep upon the chest of her most handsome, most damaged husband, hoping that tomorrow she would find herself still wrapped in his arms, unable to be touched by the negativity of the world that had plagued them both for so long.

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