Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

C hristine sat on the bed in her room, and she knew exactly what she was to do though she did not quite have the courage to do it. She felt a chill as she sat in only her nightgown, but it had nothing to do with the chill of the night. She did not feel cold because of the temperature. The chill came from the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach at the rejection that might come.

She took a deep breath and stood up. The night out with the window was pitch black and silent. An owl had hooted sometime earlier, but the hoot had not been returned, and it had fallen silent, perhaps hunting for mice alone.

Christine flew from the window, imagining she was a bird of prey swooping for some food, but instead of food, something else was on her mind. Everything was jumbled in her mind, and it seemed to be seeping from her head into her stomach. The exhilaration of being pulled so close to the Duke on the dance floor, the horror at needing to find Adeline before the Duke saw she was missing, and the confusion at wanting to be loved.

As she opened her door and looked out into the hallway, she knew the third point stuck with her the most. Adeline spoke about love, and her nostrils flared a little, and her breathing got heavier when she thought about it. Adeline barely had a proper relationship, and she was in love. Christine was married, and she would never be loved.

Christine needed to protect Adeline, she understood that, but she could not help but feel jealous of her. She needed to feel something other than ugly jealousy.

A small distraction was the feeling the breeze created as she walked down the hallway and it caressed her body through the thin fabric. Christine looked behind to make sure no one was there and listened ahead for voices.

What am I doing? I am practically undressed and sneaking off toward Theodore's room. What will people think?

She followed up that thought with:

They will think I am going to my husband's bedroom, and there is nothing wrong with that. Although, I would rather not be caught in the hallway like this by anyone except Theodore.

Christine hurried her steps, her heartbeat rising at the thrill of it all. She might think of times when she had snuck around her house as a younger woman or as a child, but she had not attempted such a thing until she was as married.

She let out a breath when she saw the light under his door and then clamped her hand over her mouth at how loud it had been. As soon as the tension left her body, it returned, fearing she had woken the entire household with her monstrous breathing.

"What is—?" the Duke asked as he opened the door to see who was there. When he saw Christine standing in the hallway in only her nightgown, he stopped in his tracks, his mouth hanging open, his eyes roving her up and down. When he regained his senses, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the room. "You will catch your death walking around at night like that."

The way he had looked at her, like a small boy standing before a sweet shop window, removed any chill residing in her body. She might have felt some embarrassment if her cheeks had flushed by themselves, but her entire body began to glow under the Duke's gaze. Even when he closed the door behind them and turned to face her, he could not take his eyes off her body.

"What are…?" Theodore asked.

"I wanted to apologize to you," Christine replied.

The Duke was still wearing his trousers and shirt, and while he was not fully dressed in the attire he had worn to the ball, he could not be described as undressed in any way. Christine knew there was a massive imbalance in how they were dressed, but she cared not a jot. She wanted to be before the Duke in only a thin piece of fabric that could give way at any time.

"You wanted to apologize to me?" the Duke asked. "Whatever for?"

"For asking about your father while we were dancing. I knew at the time it was inappropriate to talk about such things, but I?—"

"You need not worry about it," the Duke interrupted.

Christine felt her chest heaving as she had worked herself up a little, but she did not want to stop her heavy breathing when she noticed the Duke's eyes flick to her bosom as he spoke. He tried not to look, possibly because of decency, but he was not trying to hide it—he was straining not to look in the first place.

For Christine, that only made her chest rise and fall more, and the more his eyes flicked to her, the more the blood rushed around her body, causing her to blush more and her nipples to stiffen. Her body knew exactly what she wanted, even if she had no real plan when setting out for his room.

"It was impolite of me to question you," Christine said.

"And your response to that is to come to my room in the middle of the night in a state of undress?" the Duke asked. "Goodness, what shall you do if you really do something wrong."

"I didn't," Christine spluttered. "I mean, it is not like that." She tried to hide the lilt that had appeared in her voice with the blood pumping quickly around her body.

"Is it not?" The Duke did not strain against it this time. He pushed his shoulders back and stood up straight, towering above her, a waterfall with his gaze cascading down her.

"I mean…" Christine started. She thought about it for a second, unable to concentrate on her thoughts when he was attacking her with his eyes. "It was not only the impolite conversation," she said rushedly. "I also want to thank you."

The Duke raised his eyebrow. "You want to thank me?"

"For having supper with me and talking with me and especially, for dancing with me at the ball." Christine had not meant to add the word especially, it had just slipped out of her mouth.

"I did enjoy dancing with you," the Duke admitted. "I enjoyed the way your body was pressed up against mine." He took a step forward.

If he expected Christine to take a step back, then he was sorely mistaken. She stepped forward, too, closing the gap between them.

The way he makes me feel right now is enough to forget all of my troubles for a while.

"Adeline had a good time," the Duke told her.

A shot of panic pierced Christine like she had been shot with an arrow.

"She told me you have been helping her prepare, and she felt more confident with you at the ball by her side," the Duke added.

The pain changed from physical to mental anguish. She wanted to tell the Duke everything. Adeline was his sister, and he deserved to know, but she had made a promise to Adeline, and she had to honor that. There was also the chance the Duke would act negatively, and her night would be over before it started. Thinking like that only brought her more guilt.

"I have only done what anyone would do," Christine said.

"No, you have done more," the Duke argued.

He placed a hand on her cheek, and Christine's body wanted to twist and contort under his warm touch. She had read romance novels previously, but none of them adequately described what it felt like to be in close contact with a man. She supposed some, if not all, romance writers must have had a partner at some point, and they would have felt something. The summation was the feeling was different for everyone, and what she felt with the Duke was unlike anything anyone else had ever felt before.

"I…" Christine was sure she knew where the sentence was going when she started it, but it trailed off to nothing as she looked into the Duke's eyes.

She had gazed into his eyes, but each time she did, they appeared to change, as if they were living beings who donned different clothing, always the same color but different shades and tones. She had seen fire burning in them before or smoldering embers, but the brown in his eyes this time looked sunkissed, even if the sun had disappeared hours ago. They glimmered like stars and sucked her in like tiny black holes.

"You are so handsome," Christine muttered.

"Why, thank you," the Duke replied.

Christine snapped out of her daydream. "No, I don't mean… I do mean it. I mean, there is little denying it, and I know, you know it yourself, but I think it, too. You are an extremely handsome man."

She had enough decorum to not add the rest of her thoughts: that she wanted to see all of his beauty, to have him undress in front of her and show her what was beneath his clothing. She had never seen an unclothed man before, but she dearly wanted to see his entire body. And to perhaps touch it.

She was not nervous to be standing before the Duke with her figure on show, or to think about him touching her, but to think about touching him made her tremble.

What if I do it all wrong?

"You are a beautiful woman," the Duke observed. "And I am sure you know that already."

"I don't like to think about myself in that way," Christine replied. The longer the hand remained on her cheek, and the more she looked into his eyes, the more the feeling that the sun had kissed his eyes then traveled through his body and into his hand, and through his hand on her cheek, it sent a ripple of warmth pulsating through her body. And the more that happened, the more she could only think about what it would be like to touch certain parts of him.

"Don't shy from the question, Christine," the Duke told her. "You would not have come here this evening if you did not believe you were an attractive woman who could seduce me."

"Wh-what?" Christine raised her hand as if to push him away for saying something so ludicrous, but as soon as she placed her hand on his chest, she lost all ability to do anything except feel how tight his chest muscles were below.

"Admit it," the Duke ordered. "Tell me you are a beautiful woman."

"I don't need to?—"

"I want to hear the truth," the Duke stated. "You are beautiful, and we both know it. I wish to hear you say it."

Christine moved her hand unconsciously on his chest, stroking him up and down. "I… I am a beautiful woman."

"Yes, you are," the Duke agreed. "Extremely beautiful. Gorgeously beautiful. Enticingly beautiful. Especially in your nightgown that leaves very little to the imagination. Now, more of the truth. Tell me why you came to my room tonight."

"I wanted to thank you," Christine said, gaining more confidence.

"No," the Duke stated. "No, that is the pleasant way of saying it. I want you to admit why you really came here tonight."

Christine stared into his eyes; oh, those wonderful, beguiling eyes—eyes that could reach down into her gut and pull forth feelings from nowhere.

"I wanted to feel your lips on mine," Christine said slowly. The moment she said it, a wave of relief washed through her, a tidal wave that dragged off the person she had been, and in that person's place was a woman—a woman with needs and desires, many more than she would explore that night, and many that she would never get to satisfy because of her marriage of convenience, but desires all the same. For one night, she would concentrate on the needs and desires that could be satisfied.

"Then come and get what you want," the Duke told her.

Christine did not feel nervous anymore. The Duke's gaze and touch had gone some way to calming her, but admitting the truth of what she wanted did a lot more. She did not wait for him to make the move for her and stepped forward, pushing up onto her toes and reaching for his face to pull her lips up the last couple of centimeters. As soon as she placed her lips on the Duke's, the room spun.

It was not the room that spun but Christine. The touch of their lips was the catalyst. The Duke picked her up, her nightgown rising up, but she did not care. She wanted him to see, to touch. Then, the room stopped moving as she was placed down on the bed.

The Duke knelt on the bed and straddled her body, leaning down and kissing her. He took her hands and raised them above her head, pinning her beneath him. If he got up, she would not free herself. There was no other place she wanted to be than under the Duke.

His hands traced a path up her arms toward her shoulders, leaving goosebumps in their track. A shiver ran through her body as his touch tickled her skin. Her arms writhed, but she kept them pinned to the bed, unable to move if the spell might be broken.

"Mmm," Christine managed.

"Do you like that?" the Duke asked from somewhere around her stomach.

"Mmm," Christine said again.

It felt as if the room spun again when he lifted her gown up above her midriff. She was exposed, and a gentle breeze ran over her. Her body tensed, and then it tensed more when his lips touched her naval. He pulled his lips away, and her body sank down into the bed. Then, more tension as he kissed her again and more settling when he pulled his lips away.

Again and again, he came back for more, tensing her body with his warm, supple lips and removing that tension as he moved away as if her tension was seeds, and each time he devoured her naked body, he got back up to spit out the seeds.

"Oh!" Christine gasped. She had only been thinking about her bare stomach, but when he pressed his lips between her legs, she remembered that her core was also exposed. Her body buckled as he kissed her again where no man had kissed before.

"Does that make you feel good?" the Duke asked.

Christine was in shock at what was happening to her, but her body acted without her thinking. She reached down and placed her fingers into his thick head of hair, and then she pushed him down onto her, needing the very daring desire fulfilled immediately.

She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a deep moan from her throat. She had been rendered without words. All she could do was concentrate on her breathing as her chest heaved more than before and try to stop her back from arching too much, or she would snap in two. She concentrated only on that because if she concentrated on the feeling emanating from her wet opening, she would explode in raptures, and part of her knew that the longer it went on, the better it would be.

"Mmm," Christine moaned, turning into a being who could only communicate through grunts and moans.

The Duke moved his tongue like a fencing sword, playing with his opponent, dancing with her nether regions.

Christine reached out and grabbed the sheets, scrunching them up in her hands as she let out a low moan that sounded like a wolf howling in a cave—so much that she wondered where the noise had come from. The lack of concentration allowed the ecstasy to finally break through the dam, and she was powerless to stop it.

Christine gasped and moaned as the pleasure burst through, drenching her in pure emotion that was both warm and old at the same time. Christine could not open her eyes through it all, and she lay back and enjoyed each new sensation. It went on and on and on until she thought it would never stop, and finally, her rear flopped back down onto the bed, and still, she could not open her eyes.

Her lips reached up when she felt his warm breath, and he placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. Christine replied with a moan, still unable to speak.

"Sleep here," the Duke whispered.

Christine lay with her eyes closed as if floating on her back on a calm lake, her immediate desires fulfilled. She could speak again but chose not to. There was nothing she could say that would make the moment any better. Instead, she slipped away on the lake, drifting into a sleep filled with dreams of the Duke.

Her problems were still there, but they were still on the bank of the lake, and she would visit them some other time.