Chapter 9

CHAPTER9

Emily stood back, her insides quivering as she was wondering what exactly she was doing agreeing to run off alone with the Duke of Thorne. If Rachel ever discovered she was intentionally going to an orangey alone with the Duke, she would be furious. Emily could picture it now, the rage, the rampage, and the disappointment, yet despite it all, Emily didn’t want this moment to be over.

She wanted more kisses, all of it, to be in the Duke’s arms and no longer feel as if they were just acquaintances to each other, yet something more.

With his hand in hers, they moved through the lime trees and out onto a formal path in the distant regions of the garden. He glanced back toward the house, as did she, following his gaze to look at the windows. They were so far away now that it would be difficult for anyone to see them from the windows. They were on the distant side of the house to the ballroom anyway, so with luck, no one would even glimpse two figures in this part of the garden.

“This way.” He led her to the orangery, set against the rear wall of the garden. The door was locked, but Jacob jiggled the door enough that it popped out of the lock and allowed them inside.

Emily gasped as she stepped into the building. It was warm, warmer than outside, and with so many plants trailing the walls and in pots, it was a stunning place to be. In the middle of the red-brick building, topped with glass, there was a circle of small orange trees in pots, and between them, three wicker chairs.

“Your Grace,” Emily whispered, reaching for him again.

He kicked the door shut behind them and advanced toward her. Before she could say anymore, he kissed her, with such fierceness that she backed up, nearly walking into one of the orange trees in her surprise. His fingers tangled in her hair, angling her head back as he deepened the kiss.

Oh… so this is what true kisses can be like.

It made the stolen kisses she’d had with other men all pale in comparison. This was something else entirely. The passion, the excitement, and even the thrill that passed through her body made her a quivering mess. Her hands trembled as she reached for the Duke’s arms and held onto him. As he pulled her body into his, their hips brushed together, and she could have sworn a wetness developed between her legs.

“Your Grace,” she managed to murmur again as he moved his lips from hers down her neck. With his hand tangled in her air, he tilted her head back further, setting such kisses on her neck that she gasped, wanting more of this feeling.

“No more of that,” he whispered between kisses.

“What?”

“No more of ‘Your Grace’. I can’t have you moaning that in here.” He raised himself a little again, hovering his lips over hers, but not quite giving her another kiss, even as she reached up toward him, wanting it. “My name is Jacob, Emily. Moan that instead.”

“Jacob…” Her voice was breathy, astonished that he would ask for such an intimacy between them. His name on her lips seemed to do something. His expression changed, and he practically growled under his breath. He shifted her body and moved her toward one of the wicker chairs, moving over her and kissing her again.

As he moved his kisses down her neck, she leaned back in the chair, unsure what he was doing but just not wanting it to stop. He kissed her across her chest, even her breasts, through the covering of her gown. He paid particular attention to moving his hands across her waist, his fingers skimming the undersides of her breasts, then he went for her hips, shifting her so that she sat on the very edge of the wicker chair.

“Can’t stay away from you, can I?” he whispered, his voice deep.

“You can’t?” Her hands gripped the side of the chair as he abruptly kneeled down in front of her. He took her knees and then moved them to the side, creating a space for him to kneel between them. Her voice grew breathy, and she forgot what she’d even asked as she rested an arm across his shoulders, longing for him to kiss her again.

“Impossible.” He moved their lips together, yet the kiss was slower this time, somehow more sensual than the last. One of his hands brushed her thigh through her gown, shifting the silk against her skin so that it teased her. He started to gather the skirt together, shifting it so that it bunched around her hips, with her legs slowly being exposed.

Impossible indeed.

Emily pulled back from their kiss and allowed him to pepper more kisses across her collarbone, fleeting, like the caress of a butterfly’s wings, until he reached her cleavage above her gown. There, he set a deeper kiss, nipping her, then laving her with his tongue.

She didn’t care how scandalous this was, nor how wrong. It would be outrageous if her sisters ever found out. All she wanted was more of the Duke of Thorne.

Jacob. He is Jacob to me now.

He reached beneath the last covering of her skirt, the backs of his fingers caressing her bare hip. As a breathy moan escaped her lips, it seemed to encourage him and make him bolder with his touches. He turned his hand over and explored her hip fully, even gripping her hip with his fingers and using it to pull her toward him. The friction it created between their bodies had her seeking out his lips again for another deep kiss.

She was toying with his lips, making his left-hand cling to her hair as his other hand moved from her hips to somewhere between. When he lowered his touch down, getting increasingly closer to her center, her breathing grew faster.

She did not know what to expect, but something she was very aware of in her mind was that Jacob had a reputation. He was a known rake. Surely that meant… he knew how to please a woman?

She shuddered in excitement, just as his fingers reached her center. The first touch was a soft one, almost experimental. Finding her own body was wet, as if she was ready for his touches, she pulled back from his kiss just an inch, to look him in the eye.

There was heat in his blue eyes, so intense, she could not look away from it.

He grew bolder, that first touch changing to something stronger as he brushed outside of her. Such a thrill passed through her body that her legs quivered either side of his hips. His fingers slid across her then inside her. The sudden pleasure was so foreign to her, something so new that she tipped her head back, his name on her lips as she gasped.

His hand left her hair and he shifted it across her stomach and waist, angling her back so that she was leaning away across the wicker chair, opening herself up to him. He looked down, seemingly distracted by watching what he was doing to her. She watched him the whole time, seeing his arm move as his hand drove against her, pleasuring her with just his fingers alone. His expression was hooded with desire, those blue eyes seemingly silver in the light of the moon that shone through the orangery glass.

His movements grew faster, firmer, until her whole body was shuddering, needing more of this feeling. It seemed to coil in her lower stomach, repeatedly flinging out across her body until her toes curled with the pleasure, wanting him.

She started to imagine what it would be like if Jacob was not just using his hand to pleasure her, but if they shared their entire bodies with one another in this room. What if he did indeed make love to her on this chair? What if that was what drove her to such pleasure? Would it be as intense as she had heard? As thrilling?

When his hand grew faster, her thoughts shot away from her imagination, and she stared at him instead. He was no longer watching what he was doing to her body, but looking directly into her eyes, as if mesmerized. He leaned down over her, kissing her, though the kiss was slow, and passionate, making her moan into that kiss.

His other hand raised up and took hold of her thigh, gently holding her open wide as his other hand continued to drive her mad. She was certain she was on the edge of something, for her body seemed to be ascending to some great height, when he abruptly left her lips.

She moaned, wanting his kiss again, but he merely chuckled and winked. There was something about the sound of that laugh that let her know she was safe with him. She was doing this with the man she had met that night in the darkened corridor, who she’d been drawn to ever since, who had defended her against Lord Gilchrist.

He looked down at their connection, then shifted his hand slightly. His fingers still pleasured her, but he lowered his lips to her core so swiftly, she was not prepared for it. When he kissed her in her more intimate area, she thrust her hands down onto the arms of the chair and pulled herself up a little, desperate to see what he was doing to her.

The thrill shifted now to one that was dual, both inside and out. His eyes watched her as he pleasured her with his tongue.

That ascension of pleasure was faster now. It grew so quickly, that coil of pleasure in her lower abdomen seemed to expel suddenly. She felt struck by a wall of pleasure as she closed her eyes.

“Jacob…” His name left her lips as he continued to pleasure her, never once stopping. Her body was jittery, and she could not stop quivering in that chair as he moved with her, as she came down from her climax.

Her hands released the chair and she fell against the back, panting to catch her breath as he eventually released her. He looked up then leaned down over her. His lips found hers swiftly and they kissed, though it was a slow and sensual one, as her hands reached for him and tangled in his hair, angling his face toward her. With his hips sliding against her own, it was all too easy to imagine what it could be like to share herself completely with Jacob.

His hard length was even pressed against her through his trousers, as a firm reminder of what could happen.

When he shifted back from her a little, there was a smile on his lips.

“You look far too pleased with yourself,” she said jokingly, loving the moment when he laughed at her words.

“Can you blame me?” he whispered. “That was something, Emily.”

“Yet…” She closed her eyes as a sudden realization entered her mind. She had indulged in this thrill with Jacob, been excited by him, and oh, how she didn’t regret that pleasure, but there was something here she had to be aware of. “We should not have done it, should we?” she asked in a small voice. “You are a rake, and what have I done?” She released him, laying her hands back across the chair and laughing at her own foolishness. “I have gone into the rake’s arms.”

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?” he said teasingly and moved his lips to her chest. He kissed down her exposed skin above the neckline of her gown, then over her breasts and her stomach, making her writhe and want more of his touches, despite her words.

“Couldn’t you tell it wasn’t bad?”

“I might have had a little idea.” One of his fingers caressed the inside of her thigh, coming so close to her center again that she twitched, and he chuckled. “See? We just couldn’t help it, Emily.”

“No, we couldn’t.” She gazed up at him, realizing what a tangled mess the two of them had been since they had first met in that dark corridor, unable to see one another. They’d been drawn to one another even when they couldn’t see each other’s face, the attraction palpable, the pull inescapable.

I could never have known it would culminate in this.

He bent over her again and kissed her forehead, a surprisingly tender touch that startled her. Her hands gripped his shoulders, wanting to keep him there for a beat longer.

“You make me wonder about something,” she muttered, her mind working fast.

“What is that?” he asked, raising his lips from hers but not his body. They were molded together in that chair, with him still kneeling before the wicker seat yet bent completely over her.

“You are a rake.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” he said with a humored smile.

“And clearly, you have this in you…” She paused and drew a hand down his chest. He trembled at that touch, as if she had touched his bare skin. “This passion.”

“I do,” he answered, his voice so deep it seemed to make her insides quake, wanting him to show her such pleasure and passion again.

“It baffles me when you are capable of all of this, yet you talked of wanting to marry my sister out of convenience.” Her words made him stiffen above her. She continued with her hand, drawing patterns on the cover of his waistcoat, until his body softened. “It’s hard to imagine you speaking of marrying for convenience now, after what just passed between us.”

“Perhaps it is.” He shifted them abruptly. He moved up then took hold of her waist and lifted her out of the chair, shifting them around so he was sitting in the chair, and she ended up straddling his lap.

“That was swift!”

“Well, I quite like you in this position,” he said with a smile, his eyes drifting down her. “I rather like it too much.”

She playfully tapped him around the chest in reprimand and he chuckled.

“Ah, such ideas in my head.” He tipped his chin up and rested his head on the backrest of the seat, apparently trying to tear his gaze away from her. “Maybe passion means more to me than convenience, Emily, but we all have to make arrangements sometimes for a reason.”

“And what was your reason?” Emily was desperate to know something more about him, to have a glimpse into the heart of who Jacob truly was.

“Let us say that I wished to please my mother,” he said slowly, raising his head enough to look at her again.

“That is not all, is it?”

“What? You can read my mind now after what we have shared?” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Then I best be careful of what I think.”

She laughed at him and drew her hands up his chest, slipping her fingers beneath his tailcoat and clinging onto his shoulders. That grip must have done something, for he inhaled deeply, smiling.

“Maybe there is more to it,” he confessed eventually.

“More that you are not willing to speak of. You will not share secrets with me?”

“You and I have shared something tonight,” he reminded her with a mischievous smile.

“One secret,” she pleaded, leaning toward him.

“In exchange for one from you?” he asked, his voice deep. She nodded. “Very well. I wished to marry in order to have children. Yes, I am a man of passion, but I did not factor it into the equation when I considered marriage. The purpose was for children.”

Emily was reminded so much of her nephew Joey; she pictured herself in the garden again, carrying a small boy around in the glowing sunlight. Yet in that picture, she was no longer holding Joey, but a different boy entirely. What if it was her son? What if it was hers and Jacob’s?

Oh, I should not think such things.

Even as her mind told her not to, she could not help it. After what she had just shared with Jacob after all, it was only natural.

“And you?” he whispered, lifting his head a little more. “Tell me a secret of yours, Emily.”

“What do you wish to know?”

“Why do you hide in dark corridors, or why you run off into gardens alone at night? You are clearly not afraid of a little…” he paused, clearly thinking of his next words carefully, “rebellion.”

“I’m not.” Emily sat back a little, her core moving against Jacob’s length in such a way that they both gasped in surprise.

“If you wish me to behave, don’t do that again,” Jacob pleaded, holding up a hand. She laughed, uncertain whether she wished him to behave or not.

“My sister has always called me rebellious,” she said softly. “My mother died many years ago, Jacob. After she passed away, my elder sister, Rachel, practically took her place. I love my sister dearly, but sometimes I have grown frustrated with the way she watches over me. Rather than a mother hen, she’s like an eagle-eyed hawk.” She narrowed her eyes, as if mirroring Rachel, and drew a laugh from Jacob. “My rebellions are sometimes my wish to escape her hold.”

“It is good to have a sister who loves you so much she wishes to protect you,” Jacob said softly, his hands reaching for her. When he took hold of her hips, Emily was distracted and found it hard to concentrate on what they were discussing.

“I-I know,” she stammered, watching what he was doing as he touched her. “I love her, but sometimes… one just wants a little freedom.”

“Hmm, freedom. I know that feeling.” When he moved her hips, urging her to move against him, they both gasped another time.

Their eyes connected, and Emily thought they would do something more, something else to share in their attraction, when there was a sound beyond the orangery door, of footsteps.

“We’ll be discovered,” Jacob said suddenly and helped her off him.

Emily scrambled to set her gown and hair straight as Jacob peered beyond the door.

“He’s walked on, but he could be back. Emily, you go to the ballroom, and I’ll follow behind you. If Lord Gilchrist approaches you, I’ll be there.”

She nodded, somehow relieved that he would be watching over her despite her earlier anger. As she passed him in the doorway, she laid a hand on his chest, reluctant to let the passion leave them. He closed his eyes, as if indulging in that touch, then she was gone, running through the garden and heading back to the ballroom.

As the chilly night breeze struck her, her mind woke up to exactly what she had done. She had risked her virtue, all for Jacob.

What happens now?