Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Caroline sat down, holding one foot toward him as he unbuckled her boot and slipped the leather shoe from her foot.

Then he kissed her ankle, his touch so gentle, his fingers sliding over her stockinged calf before he set her leg down to lift the other.

He'd been right when he'd said that sharing with him would unburden her. Even the small bits she'd told him, giving him the hazy outlines of her secrets, made her feel lighter.

He hadn't rejected her, made no hint that there might have been some truth to her husband's words.

Luke slid his hand down her stockinged calf before he opened the buckle and removed the shoe. Reaching up under her skirts, he untied the ribbon that held up her stocking and rolled the sheer fabric down her calf.

Then he repeated the process with the other.

He knelt before her, totally naked and completely comfortable.

Oh, to be a man and not be vulnerable. Even crouched and without a stich of clothing, he was the picture of strength. Power. His muscles in wait for action and rippling with every small movement.

It was gorgeous and awe-inspiring all in the same moment.

The second stocking rolled past her toes, his movement slow and his touch light. Sensual.

When it came to lovemaking, he seemed to understand exactly what she needed and when she needed it.

Her fear fell away, her body beginning to hum with want. He leaned closer, brushing a light kiss on the inside of her knee, his lips both tickling and causing tendrils of pleasure to skitter along her skin.

A breathless giggle fell from her lips as he lifted the hem of her skirts up her legs, peppering her skin with kisses as it appeared from under the stocking.

Excitement swelled inside he stood and then pulled her to join him. Reaching for the hem of her chemise, he pulled it up her waist and then over her head.

Naked in front of him, she notched her chin to look into his eyes, her mouth going dry. He stood a head taller than her and three stone heavier at least, but any distress she'd experienced was long gone.

It was odd.

Odd that she'd succumbed that first night, odd that he could so easily banish her fears. He reached for one of her hands, and then the other, threading their fingers together before he dropped down on a knee again.

He looked up at her now, his smile absolutely full of devilment a moment before he tipped forward and placed a kiss on her mound.

Her head tipped back, a cry falling from her lips, and he kissed her again and then slid his tongue between her thighs, licking at her slick folds.

He let go of one of her hands, grasping the back of her leg to further part her legs. Pressing his mouth to sensitive flesh, he swirled his tongue around the nub of her pleasure, a shiver racking her body as she slid her free hand into his hair, half hanging on and half pressing him closer.

The hand on her leg slid to her hip as he guided her back onto the bed and then spread her legs wider, his mouth never ceasing the sweet torture that had a climax building inside her.

Her back arched, her body writhing from his touch as she tugged at the strands of his hair.

He let out a deep rumble, the vibration pulsing through her, making her tighten even more, her body was so tight, she knew she was about to break.

He knew it too. He slid two fingers into her channel, never breaking the rhythm of his tongue.

She cried out as her finish coursed through her.

Her body spasmed over and over, the pleasure so intense, she squeezed her eyes shut for several seconds.

When she opened them, she lifted her head, blinking back the blurriness as she took in the scene.

Her legs were wrapped about him, her heels still digging into his back, her hands threaded into his hair, which she'd clearly been pulling.

She gasped, half sitting. "Oh, Luke! Did I hurt you?"

He pulled back, his grin still wicked. "You can hurt me like that whenever and as often as you wish."

Her lips parted as he rose, his erection so engorged, he was already leaking seed.

Reaching out, she grasped him, sliding her thumb over the liquid.

"Christ," he gritted out as she let go and brought the thumb to her mouth.

"Interesting," she murmured as the salty liquid settled on her tongue.

He grabbed her hand, bringing her palm to his lips, where he planted a long kiss. "Caroline, you're going to be the death of me."

"Why," she asked, even as he lay down on the bed next to her, his back to the mattress.

He reached for her hips, tugging her on top of him.

"Because," he gritted out, as she straddled his hips, the head of his cock settling at her entrance. "I can't seem to get enough."

* * *

Luke meant the words. He would go without food, sleep, sustenance of any kind, in order to please her.

Every time they had sex, she grew bolder, more sensual. Her body responded to his slightest touch, her natural passion as intoxicating as any drug he'd ever known.

She slid down his cock, taking him in as she arched back, her hands resting on his thighs, her body so open to him that a feral noise slid from his throat as he reached up, first to hold her breasts in his hands, then massaging them and caressing her nipples.

Then he traced down her narrow waist, finally holding onto the swell of her hips. She picked up the tempo, the little mewls coming from her mouth only making it harder for him to hold back.

He grabbed her ass, filling both his hands, as he helped her slide up and down his shaft. He could feel his finish drawing near, the tightening of his body stretching him to the point of breaking.

"Caroline," he gritted out, his forearms flexing to pull her deeper, longer, harder. "Sweetheart."

She tipped forward, her hands gripping at his chest, her hair everywhere, her eyes wild. The change in angle triggered her finish and she let out a keening cry, growing so tight around him that he couldn't hold back either.

With a roar, he came undone, filling her with his seed as she rode him, pulling every ounce of pleasure she could before she collapsed on his chest.

"Oh my," she breathed into his skin. "That was…"

He kissed the top of her head, wrapping her in his arms. "I know."

"Is it always like that?"

"No." Not even close. "This is special."

She gave a soft nod that he felt against his chest more than he saw. He held her tighter. At least it was special for him.

As Caroline had never had another lover, it was possible that she was just special. That every man might find her intoxicating.

The very idea of another man touching her had his arms tightening around her torso.

He had to make certain he never found out. Caroline belonged with him. He felt it in his bones.

She drifted off to sleep, and he let her rest. They'd have to rise, eat at some point. But he knew he'd worn her out.

She'd been complaining of exhaustion and two orgasms like that…

A soft knock sounded at the door. "Yes?"

"Your Grace," the housekeeper called. "You've a guest."

"What the bloody hell?" He shifted Caroline's weight off of his body, sliding her to the mattress where he tucked the blankets around her. Then he pulled on his breeches, opening the door a crack.

Mrs. Banks stood in the hall, her mouth pinched.

His few interactions with the housekeeper, he'd gotten faint whiffs of disapproval from the woman. But now…

It rolled off her in waves, her arms crossed, and her brow pulled down in an angry slash. Most servants would not be so openly hostile. He honestly wasn't certain how to proceed. "Mrs. Banks?"

She gave her head a little shake. "As I said. You've a guest." Her lip curled around the word.

"Who?" The question seemed obvious enough, he couldn't believe he needed to ask it.

"The Duke of Ironheart." Her nose wrinkled and the first inkling of understanding dawned. Ironheart was not welcome in many proper parlors, despite his title.

His reputation preceded him…

"I'll be down shortly."

Mrs. Banks's shoulders straightened. "You don't wish to send him away?"

It was his turn to have his brows pull down into a tight-knit line. Who did the housekeeper think she was? The only woman who got to argue about his affairs was Caroline. And even that was very new. "If I wanted him sent away, I would have said as much."

Her mouth slashed down in a deep frown, but she dipped into a curtsy and disappeared down the hall.

He returned into the room, quietly pulling on his shirt, vest, and boots. He didn't bother with a cravat or coat, Ironheart was hardly the man who required a formal presentation.

He entered the parlor, stopping. His trunks made it near impossible to enter the room.

"Ironheart?"

"Here," the other man called. "By the fire."

Luke weaved his way through the narrow path to the fire.

"Whose shit is this?" Ironheart asked, leaning against the mantel.

Luke bristled. Was he being called out on overpacking… again? "I had planned on staying for the next nine months, give or take."

Ironheart chuckled. "You've the subtly of a donkey."

He stood straighter. "Are you giving me advice on how to conduct my affairs?"

Ironheart kept smiling. "At the club you're all style, grace, and cold efficiency. Same efficiency applies here, you're just lacking on the first two."

"I don't need?—"

"I beg to differ. I feel like I'm watching how a bloody duke scares a perspective bride away. Don't think I didn't notice that your lady has her reservations."

Luke snorted. "Please. Your reputation alone has frightened every marriage-minded mama far away from you."

"That's the way I like it."

"Until you don't," Luke retorted, finally having the upper hand. "You're going to meet a woman you wish to wed, and she's not going to take you."

"My mother says the same thing."

His mother was right. "As enjoyable as this is, perhaps we should discuss why you're here?"

"Oh yes, there is a ball tomorrow night, which requires your attendance."

"It does not."

"It does. Several members of the Order of the Righteous will be there, and we are going to gather intelligence so that we might put this entire thing to rest. I have a life of debauchery to return to and I'm sick to death of all this work."

Luke did not point out that a man who could be this focused was likely ready to move on from debauchery.

And while the club was now Ironheart's problem, Luke would also like to see this matter laid to rest before he retired. Adam was not a man he ever wanted around Caroline.

"Tomorrow night, then."

Ironheart gave a nod. "Thank you. Feel free to bring your lovely fiancée."

"I don't want you anywhere near her."

He gave Luke a shit grin. "I could steal her if I wished, but I do not wish. I only meant that she'd provide a nice cover for us. And…" He held up a finger. "Allow you to make a public display of your courtship before you post the banns."

It was a sound point. "You might be leadership material after all," he said as he turned toward the door. "See yourself out, Ironheart. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," the other man chuckled. "Enjoy your evening."

"I intend to," he answered as he started for the kitchen. He'd make a nice tray for Caroline, feed her, and then tuck her into bed against his side, exactly where she belonged.

Even if she didn't know it yet.