Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

Stupid, brave, or mad?

Eleanor could feel the tension between them, filling the study like smoke that threatened to smother them both. Her body craved the duke, and she did not hold back as she kissed him, nor did she hide her desire to feel him against her. Even in his barely clothed state, she was relentless.

The kiss was full of conflicting emotions, passion, and uncertainty that created a storm like no other. There was something pulling her closer, wanting nothing more than to eliminate any distance between them. At that moment, nothing else existed, just the man before her and her desire to know him completely.

The feeling, it seemed, was mutual.

The duke’s hands ran down her back, pressing her against him so that she could feel his arousal against her abdomen. He groaned against her mouth. “I want you so terribly, Eleanor.”

The way he spoke her name made her shiver with delight. She wanted nothing more than to hear him repeat it, over and over again. Her heart pounded in her chest, and heat rose to each and every inch of her body.

The duke, just as breathless, was the one to finally break their kiss, his eyes searching hers for confirmation. “Are you sure about this? If you stay here…”

He did not need to finish his sentence, for the message was clear.

She reached up, pressing a finger to his lips, silencing him. Gently, he kissed her finger as his eyes remained locked on her own.

“I need you,” she all but pleaded as her spectacles slipped down her nose. Without a second thought, she took them off and tossed them on the desk.

Her vision turned hazy, but even in the dim light, she could make out his features and the look in his eyes.

Those words seemed to break whatever spell he had been under, as if they had triggered something primal and hungry within him. Without another word, the duke moved her hand aside and found her lips again. His tongue flicked against hers, twisting and moving in a pattern that she craved to feel elsewhere. She did not have enough time to react, her senses dulled at the moment, and she felt herself being led backward.

The duke pulled away from her lips only to trail ravenous kisses down her neck and across her collarbones. Eleanor threw her head back, savoring the feeling and the sparks across her skin.

“Do you like this dress?” he asked her in a rough, breathy voice.

Eleanor glanced down at him just as he licked the mound of her breast. His breath was hot against her skin, but still, he managed to send shivers through her entire body. His fingers tugged at the front of her bodice.

Before she could respond, she felt herself being spun around. The duke was fast, so quick that she couldn’t make sense of what had happened until he was behind her. His hand settled between her shoulder blades, pushing her down gently as his hips pressed against her behind. She looked over her shoulder, watching as he made quick work of the hooks and drawstring on the back of her dress.

Soon, the gown came loose, and she straightened, letting it fall to the floor. The urgency had settled, though it was clear they both still felt it. His fingertips brushed down her back as he undid her petticoat and then the ties of her stays. One by one, each article of clothing fell to the floor until she was in nothing more than her shift.

Eleanor turned to him, her eyes searching his.

“You have no idea how much I wished to tear it all off you,” he groaned.

A feeling stirred between her legs at his words, at the desperation in his voice, and the way he was eyeing her, as if she were a meal. The duke kissed her again, forcefully, but she did not deny him. Instead, she melted into him.

Behind her, pressing against the back of her thighs, was the desk. The duke’s hands slid down her waist, settling at her hips as his fingertips dug into her skin.

Not even for a breath did he stop kissing her. Her body moved against his, following each silent command instantly. Effortlessly, he lifted her up onto the desk, not giving a single damn about the papers or open bottle of brandy. They were all shoved aside, and the bottle crashed to the floor with a shattering sound.

His hand slipped down the front of her body, moving painstakingly slowly down her chest and stomach, before finding her spot. Eleanor moaned, unable to contain the sound as his fingers moved against her in the most delightful way.

“You are so wet for me,” he whispered as he kissed her neck.

Eleanor shivered at his words. “I need you, Dorian. Now.”

“Say my name again,” he growled.

“Dorian, Dorian… Please…”

He took off his drawers. Only moments had passed, but it felt like an eternity of longing, of wanting him and craving him. Soon, but not soon enough, she felt his manhood against her opening, teasing as he brushed the head against her.

Slowly, he slid inside her, until there was no space between them. Eleanor groaned. A mix of pain and pleasure flooded through her as she threw her head back. At first, he was slow, careful, but soon his composure cracked, and he quickened his pace.

Eleanor was shaken to the core, her body arching as her hips moved against his desperately. She wrapped her arms around him, her fingertips digging into his shoulders as they moved to the same silent symphony. Her mind was a blank slate. There was nothing but desire, nothing but Eleanor and Dorian. Nothing but Dorian.

Her release had been building and was nearing its peak. She knew that if he continued to thrust into her, she would shatter, and she was eager to do just that.

Dorian cupped the back of her neck, holding her in place as his eyes held hers. They stayed that way, staring at each other, until the pleasure overtook her, and she could bear it no more.

Eleanor threw her head back, her legs shaking. “Oh, Dorian!”

He cursed under his breath and thrust as deeply as he could. His breaths were frantic, and he groaned as he released. She could feel him quivering, a throbbing sensation unlike anything she had felt before.

For some time, they stayed that way, joined together and breathless.

“I told you,” he said breathlessly. “You belong to me, Eleanor.”

“You look so much different without them,” he said as he handed her the spectacles.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Shadows danced across her skin, turning it into a shade of ivory.

Eleanor blinked, concern flashing across her features. “Do I look better without them?”

“No, not better. Only different.” His smile did not quite reach his eyes, but he meant his words.

Admittedly, he couldn’t deny the fascination he felt, seeing her without the barrier of thick glass lenses. Her eyes, a shade of warm brown, seemed to hold a clarity he had not seen before.

The most beautiful eyes…

His body ached in the most delightful way, and for a short while, it felt as if all the stress had been sucked from his body. But that feeling was short-lived.

He stepped forward and began to help her dress. His hands moved with practiced ease, tying her stays and petticoat. As his fingers brushed against her skin, he watched as gooseflesh rose to the surface and she shivered.

“You know, I did not imagine I would enjoy that so much.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Did I live up to your expectations?”

As he slipped her dress down over her head, Dorian was grateful he had not acted on the wicked thought he had earlier—a vision of simply tearing the dress apart like some beast. It would’ve been nearly impossible to explain.

“Surpassed them.” She chuckled. “If this is what I can expect each time, well, perhaps being married will not be as bad as I thought.”

His smile did not quite reach his eyes.

“You should return home,” he said reluctantly.

He wanted her to stay, to sleep beside him, perhaps even repeat what had just occurred till the sun rose, but they both knew better.

She looked at him, concern etched on her brow. There was a faint flicker of hurt in her eyes—an understandable doubt. Still, she nodded in agreement, albeit reluctantly. “Will… will you be there tomorrow?”

Dorian nodded without hesitation. “Of course.”

She seemed a bit relieved at his response, though there were still unanswered questions beneath the surface. Questions that would have to wait until this evening, after they were already married and he knew she was safe.

Dorian reached out, caressing the side of her face as he held her gaze. “I will have a discreet carriage take you back home,” he told her before planting a delicate, sweet kiss on her forehead. “And then I will see you shortly.”

She looked up at him. “Promise me you will be there, Dorian.”

“I will be there,” he reassured her as he looked into her eyes. “I promise.”