Chapter 13

In Killian's experience, there was nothing quite as dangerous as indecision. On the battlefield, hesitating was the fastest way to ensure a bloody end. Decisive action was integral to survival. Even the wrong choice was better than no choice. But as he stood outside Hannah's door with sweaty palms, a hard cock, and a head full of questions, he couldn't bring himself to knock.

He wanted her more desperately than any woman in his past, present, and – he dared to guess – future. But she wasn't the kind of lady a duke married. She wasn't a lady at all. Neither was she a night flower or wanton widow he could bed without doing irreparable damage.

The problem was Hannah. She was courageous, intelligent, brazen, and beautiful. She was curious and innocent and far more fragile than she knew. She was everything he wanted and nothing he could have.

So, he stood outside her door, agonising over a choice that should be easy. Turn around. Walk away. Leave her alone.

Killian knocked.

The door opened far enough for him to slip inside.

‘I wasn't sure you would come.' The fire blazed behind Hannah, illuminating the lithe silhouette of her body.

Killian's heart stuttered.

Dear God. I'm in love with her.

The revelation stole his breath and weakened his knees.

Fucking hell.

‘You're beautiful.' Of all the thoughts in his head, it was the easiest to say and the least important.

She looked at the carpet. ‘No. I'm nervous. I owe you a favour, but I still have no idea what you might ask.' She clasped her hands in front of her, fingers intertwined.

‘I want to watch you.' It was the safest option. He thought of a million different ways to bring her pleasure, a thousand favours he could ask. But watching her kept a safe distance between them. And in this moment, he only wanted one thing. To see Hannah Simmons come undone in front of him. To watch her shields fall away as she lost herself to desire.

‘I don't understand,' Hannah paused and swallowed. Her throat moved, and he wanted to press his mouth against the hollow of her neck. To feel her heart beating beneath his lips. To lick her soft, sweet skin. To taste her. ‘Watch me do what?' Her voice was spiced honey coating his senses.

Killian forced himself to remain still. ‘Everything I ask. You can refuse, of course. You can stop whenever you like, and I won't touch you. But I want to watch you.'

Hannah unclasped her hands, putting them on her hips. Her eyes darkened with a familiar emotion. Annoyance. ‘You could ask me any favour, yet you want to just stand there? Telling me what to do and watching me do it?'

Killian bit his cheek and willed his body to remain controlled. ‘No. I'm going to sit.' He pulled a wingback chair ten paces away from the fire. ‘Here.' His legs couldn't possibly hold him when so much blood was diverted to other areas. He tugged up his trousers and sat. ‘And watch you. As you let me tell you what to do.' She wasn't going to agree. He could see the fear cloud her eyes. ‘But I don't think you will. You don't like following orders. Especially not mine.' Hannah couldn't resist a challenge.

Her bottom lip trembled, and Killian's world tilted on its axis. Perhaps he'd pushed too hard. He might very well be the biggest bastard in England.

‘So, this is just a dare you know I won't take?' she asked.

Killian's heart raced. ‘No. This is a risk I'm desperately hoping you will take. This will only work if we trust each other.'

Hannah's hands dropped from her side. She fiddled with the lace on the sleeve of her nightgown. Her eyes darted from the fireplace to the window, then back to him. ‘Men want to take control. Is that what this is about? Because I won't allow that.'

Killian gripped the arm of the chair. He could feel the hard bite of wood beneath the velvet-covered padding. ‘How can I control the wind or the sea as it crashes against the shore? I could never control the forces of nature comprising you.'

Hannah quirked her brow. ‘I'm a force of nature?'

Killian's low chuckle seemed loud in the quiet room. ‘Oh, yes.'

‘You want to tell me what to do, but I don't have to comply?'

‘Exactly. You'll always have control.'

She was so close to letting him past her defences. He could feel the war waging within her. He understood that battle and wouldn't force a victory.

Holding his breath, he waited.

When she threw back her shoulders and walked slowly to stand in front of him, Killian thought he might combust, the sparks showering her in his inferno of need.

‘What do you want me to do?'

Hannah had never felt so powerful or so terrified. Lieutenant General Robert Killian, Duke of Covington, favoured lord of the Prime Minister of England, commander of men, devious detective, and renowned bachelor at the top of every lady's list, sat in front of her with his legs spread, his breathing erratic, and his eyes promising dark and wondrous things. He wanted to lead her down a path, but he offered Hannah the ultimate control. This was the power she chased. This was the promise of fulfilment her body yearned to discover.

Be brave, Hannah.

She thrust out her chin and clenched her hands into fists so he wouldn't see her fingers shaking.

I can walk away whenever I want.

But what if I want to stay? Forever?

It wasn't a question she was ready to answer.

‘I want you to take off your nightgown.' His gravelled voice echoed in the quiet room. The fire popped behind her. A clock ticked the moments away.

Hannah's nipples hardened into twin points of concentrated sensation as the thin fabric of her nightgown shifted over her skin. She pressed her lips together, savouring the sharp pressure of teeth cutting into her mouth.

He noticed. His eyes dilated, and he adjusted his position in the chair.

What a proud display of masculine power. His muscled thighs jutted toward her, thick and long. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, his index finger pressed along the sharp line of his cheekbone, his thumb braced against a jaw as solid as the cliffs of Dover. Killian's middle finger rubbed over his full bottom lip. But it was his hooded gaze that caused her body to grow hot and liquid.

Hannah had undressed in front of countless women. Her mother. Betty. Even Philippa. It never mattered because her body was just a sexless thing carrying her from one task to the next. But his gaze made this fundamentally different. She was something new in this moment. Something desired. Something inspired.

‘Last night, you didn't ask to see me. We kissed and touched. The whole time, I kept on my nightgown. Why do you want to see me naked now?' The idea that he could derive pleasure just from watching her undress was fascinating.

He leaned forward, resting both his elbows on his knees. ‘I want to see you naked because I want to be the only person who knows what Hannah Simmons looks like without her armour.'

It was a good answer. Honest. Flattering. Disconcerting.

She only stood a few feet from him. This close, he would see every detail. Standing fully naked in front of him, the firelight illuminating all her flaws, ugly scars, small breasts, muscular legs. He would see it all.

Hannah faltered. This was vulnerability on a scale she couldn't measure.

His eyes convinced her. The earnest need. The unguarded desire.

She should have undressed slowly, seductively. But she didn't know how. Instead, Hannah bent forward, grabbed the hem of her nightgown, and in one quick movement, whipped it over her head and let it drop behind her. Frightening tasks were best handled quickly.

Killian exhaled a whoosh of air. ‘Fuck me.'

Hannah giggled. She couldn't help it. The fire warmed her back, but her nipples tightened in the cool air between them, turning her giggle into a gasp.

‘Look at yourself.'

‘Why?' Hannah knew what she looked like naked.

‘Because I want you to see yourself the way I see you.'

Hannah glanced down. Her skin was shockingly pale in the dark room. Her nipples tilted up, puckering in the cold air. They were dark coral, contrasting against the swell of her shell-pink breasts. She had a long scar running down her right arm where she was cut in a brutal knife fight against a viscount who murdered his maid. The healed wound shone pearlescent in the muted light. Her ribs were still purple from a left elbow Philippa threw in their last sparring match. Her right leg was peppered with crescent scars from shotgun pellets.

How did he see her? Certainly not a blushing maid or a confident seductress.

‘I'm hardly a gently bred lady.' Hannah wouldn't break eye contact. He wanted to see her without her armour? Fine. He could look his fill at all her defects. She refused to be ashamed of her body. It might not be soft and lush. It might not be smooth and perfect. But she was strong and resilient and true.

Killian shook his head. ‘No. Warriors can't be gentle. Do you want to know what I see?'

No.

Hannah swallowed her fear. ‘Yes.'

‘I see a fierce goddess with strength and scars borne from battle. I see a delicate woman who could destroy me with one swipe of her blade. I see someone meant to be free, who would fly on wings of light if she could.'

‘Don't.' His beautiful words ripped holes in her heart, making her bleed. He saw too much, but none of it was true. He described a stranger, a far cry from the woman she was. She fought to keep her voice steady. ‘I'm no goddess. I'm about as delicate as a steam train, and if I tried to fly, I would drop like a stone. Men say any number of pretty deceits to seduce women. Don't lie to me.'

Killian's lips tipped up at the corners. His teeth flashed white in the shadowed room. ‘I can't lie to you. It's a real problem.' He pulled his shirt out from his pants. ‘You are full of treasures, Hannah. I won't take your gifts unless you give them to me.'

Killian began unbuttoning his shirt.

Alarm thrilled through her as he revealed more of his torso. ‘What are you doing?'

‘I'm warm.'

When he reached the last button, he pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop next to the chair. Hannah lifted her gaze from the white silk clumped on the carpet to take in Killian's naked chest. He called her a goddess, but Killian was the one who resembled the statues of Olympian heroes. Thick muscles flexed in his upper arms as he rested his elbows against the armrest. His nipples were dark, flat disks in a wide chest sprinkled with black hair. Hannah's gaze lowered to where his stomach separated into eight defined ridges of hard flesh. His hair was thicker below his belly button, creating a trail disappearing into his breeches.

‘Bollocks,' she hissed.

‘Yes. They are becoming quite a problem.' Killian's words were playful, but his voice was rough with need. ‘You told me you found your pearl. Show me. Touch yourself for me.'

Hannah stiffened. ‘I can't. That's not…' Her face grew warm as moisture pooled low. Just the idea of playing with herself in front of him was equally embarrassing and erotic.

‘You can say no. If you don't want to touch yourself.' He shrugged, and his gaze lowered to the dark thatch of hair between her legs.

Hannah's core tingled. What she must look like to him, so exposed, so vulnerable? She ached to rub the tight bud of flesh pulsing with need. To feel the soft friction of her finger against that cluster of nerves. ‘I want to.' Her voice was husky. She didn't recognise it.

‘Then, touch yourself, Hannah. Touch yourself and let me watch you.'

This was not a moment for anxiety to steal her pleasure. She was a woman who rushed into dangerous situations when others might run away. She could do this. She wanted to do this. Blast and damn, she practiced this moment alone, in her room, the previous night and thought about Killian every scintillating second. This was her chance to show him what she learned.

Hannah let her hand trail over the dip of her waist, tickling the sensitive skin of her belly as she delved lower. Killian hissed in a breath. She had captured this powerful man. He was mesmerised. His gaze locked onto her pale hand as her fingers tangled in the hair covering her intimate flesh before dipping between the soft folds hiding her clitoris. She curled her index finger, brushing the pad against the tight bundle where sweet sparks of sensation coalesced. What a wonder that she could bring herself such pleasure. She never knew it was possible. Until he showed her. Closing her eyes, she moaned.

‘Don't close your eyes. Look at me. Keep looking at me.'

His voice was a line holding her steady in a storm of need. She opened her eyes and locked her gaze with his. He was beautiful. His face tightened with desire. His full lips parted as his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. Tightening his grip on the armrest, his muscles corded, the firelight creating shadows in the ridges and dips of his powerful body.

Hannah rubbed harder, her fingers growing wet from passion. She reached up with her free hand, palming her breast, then pinching her nipple. Killian exhaled a curse. She couldn't stop the slow smile, knowing her movements controlled his pleasure. It was a heady feeling to hold Killian in her thrall.

She focused on the sensation of her finger sliding over her bud as wave after wave crashed over her, sucking her deeper into a whirlpool of aching need. Knowing her desire only increased his, she grew bold, undulating her hips.

He unbuttoned the fall of his breeches, and Hannah almost lost her rhythm as his cock sprang out, thick, long, and hard.

‘Don't stop.' His gravelled voice scraped over her senses. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft, pumping his hand down to the broad base where black hair hid the rest of him from view. His tip seeped a bead of liquid. Their bodies were weeping for each other.

She dipped a finger deeper, coating it in her slickness before returning to her nub in small, devastating circles.

She moaned, so close to the shining pinnacle.

‘Let go. Come for me, Hannah.' His green eyes were almost black in the shadowed room. He bared his teeth like a feral animal as his hand moved faster.

Hannah closed her eyes and lost herself to the raging brilliance. She cried out and flattened her hand, grinding the heel of her palm against her clitoris, needing more. Wanting everything. Drunk on her own power and his devastating need.

Killian cursed in a voice full of awe.

As her orgasm dissipated, Hannah's legs turned to jelly. She dropped to the floor, the cold wood pressing against her hot thighs and bottom. She leaned on her arm and let the glory of her crisis echo through her limbs. But the ache remained, deep and hollow.

His hand still gripped his cock, but he wasn't stroking himself any more. Killian watched her as her breathing slowed.

Hannah cleared her throat. ‘My turn.'

Killian watched sunsets in the Afghan desert that stole his breath with their beauty. He had seen crystal-blue water chase itself along white sand beaches. He stared in wonder as a red kite swooped from the sky only an arm's length away from him. Never had he witnessed anything more stunning than Hannah in the apex of her orgasm.

His brain needed to catch up with his ears. ‘Your turn?' He still held his cock in his hand, hard and pulsing, demanding release.

‘Yes. You told me to think on the favour I wanted. I've thought about it. I know what I want from you.'

Killian blew out a shaky breath. ‘I'm not following.' He was having trouble organising his thoughts.

Hannah reached behind her, pulling at the scrap of material holding the end of her braid. She unwound her hair. Killian was a fool to not have asked her to do that from the start. Long waves of copper shone in the firelight. Her sweet nipples peeked out from the silky strands now covering her breasts.

‘I want you.'

Killian watched in fascination as a blush ran down the length of Hannah's entire body. He rubbed his hand over his cock, revelling in the sensation and imagining her tight quim holding him instead of his rough hand. ‘You have me. Here I am.'

Hannah pushed up from the floor, the muscles in her arms and legs flexing. Killian had seen his share of naked women in all shapes and sizes. But he'd never encountered a woman with the long, lean muscles Hannah developed by years of hard training. She was a warrior priestess, proud and primal. Her stomach was tight, her legs long and shapely. Her body was sleek and powerful and perfect. Killian wanted to kiss every scar highlighting her courage and pledge his skills in battle to keep her safe. But she didn't need his protection. She was his equal. The only woman he knew who might understand the sins and seduction of his violent life.

Hannah's gaze dipped down to his erection. The tip of her tongue rested in the corner of her mouth. Killian ground his teeth together, willing his body not to betray him.

‘No. I don't have you. Not yet. I want to give you the same kind of pleasure you have given me. I want to have sex with you. Properly.' Hannah didn't break eye contact with him, but he knew it took something from her, to ask so boldly and risk so much if he refused her. But how could he ever refuse Hannah Simmons?

Time froze. Details dissolved until it was just Hannah's eyes locked onto him, her red lips parted, her pale body glowing. She was offering him the one thing he wanted more than air. The one thing he promised himself he wouldn't claim. ‘No. I told you; I won't take your virginity and walk away.'

Hannah put her hands on her hips. It was a pose he was familiar with but devastatingly more effective when she was naked. ‘You're going to renege on our deal? You asked me to think on what favour I wanted, and this is it. You aren't taking my virginity. I'm giving it to you. I don't expect marriage. I don't want your title or your money. I'm not some innocent young girl who believes in romance and love. But I want this.' Her lip trembled, destroying a bit of her displayed bravado.

Hannah was wrong. She was innocent in ways she didn't even know. Every woman dreamt of romance and love. At least, every woman Killian knew. More importantly, she deserved romance and love. He couldn't offer her that. His parents had expected him to marry well and continue the dukedom's lineage. He couldn't betray them after everything they'd given him and all the ways he had failed them. He could only give Hannah this moment. It wasn't enough. Not for her.

Hannah narrowed her eyes. ‘I'm going to have sex with someone. I want to know what it is to join with a man. I want it to be you, but I'll find someone else if you refuse.'

Killian imagined Hannah naked like this with another man. A dirty, hulking brute who wouldn't realise how fragile she was. Who wouldn't treasure her or take his time. Rage washed through him, as potent as whiskey, burning in his veins. He pushed up from the chair and closed the distance between them, grabbing her arms to hold her still. ‘You will not.'

‘You don't get to decide what I do. Not now. Not ever.' Hannah pointed her chin in the air with a defiance he both hated and admired. ‘You said you wouldn't force me to do anything tonight, and I will extend you the same promise. If you don't want me, you are free to walk away.'

Killian growled in frustration and tightened his grip. ‘Not want you? How could any man not want you? You are all I want. My body aches for you.' He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his cock. ‘Can you feel that? How hard I am for you? I could explode from my desire. For you. But I can't give you what you deserve. Don't you see that?'

Hannah smiled. She pulled her hand away from his hard flesh and cupped his cheek, a painfully gentle gesture. In the muted light, her amber eyes shone like the heart of a fire. ‘You may not be what I deserve, but you are what I want.'

Damn his soul. He wasn't strong enough to resist her. ‘Be careful what you ask for, Hannah.'

‘I'm always careful. Do you agree to my terms? Will you grant me this favour?'

He bit out a laugh. ‘I'm not granting you any favours by bedding you. I'm taking your innocence. I won't have you pay me for the privilege with the information you shared. I'm a blackguard and a libertine; don't make me a whore as well.' The brutal truth of his words echoed in the darkness. He pressed his mouth against hers in a kiss tasting of desperation.

She pulled away, cupping his other cheek to bracket his face between her hands. ‘You are courageous and honourable and kind. You are taking nothing from me that I don't freely give. Don't paint this moment with shame.'

He would never be strong enough to deny Hannah. He couldn't give her a future, but if this night was all they had, he would damn well make it worthy of her. A moment she could look back on with joy. A memory they would both hold in the secret caverns of their hearts for whatever dark days lay ahead.

He softened his kiss, licking the seam of her lips and tasting her depths as she opened to him. Sweeping her up in his arms, he pressed her warm body against his. Striding to the bed, he lay her gently on the covers. She scooted back, making room for him.

Stripping off his breeches, socks, and boots, he climbed on the bed and stretched his body next to hers, naked.

‘I want to touch you. May I?' Hannah bit her lip. Every question she asked flayed another layer from his scarred heart.

‘You can do whatever you want.' Killian put both hands behind his head to stop him from taking control of the moment. If she needed to learn his body, he would give her time or implode from the effort.

He clenched his jaw against the sweet torture of her fingers feathering across his skin. She sat up, running her hands over his shoulders, down his chest. When she circled his nipples with her thumbs, he groaned, closing his eyes, and revelling in the pressure. Her soft touch was replaced with wet heat, and his eyes flew open to see the top of her head as she licked him.

‘God, woman. You'll undo me before we've even started.'

Hannah's chuckle was low and sweet. ‘A duke undone, scandalous.'

She moved her explorations lower, and Killian tried to think of anything but her breath tickling his chest hair, her hands bumping over his stomach muscles as she moved closer to his throbbing cock.

When she wrapped her strong fingers around his erect penis, her exhalation of wonder washed across his over-sensitised skin, and Killian wondered if he could die from pleasure.

‘I didn't think it would be so hard and silky at once. How is that possible?'

Killian had no clue. He couldn't remember his own name, let alone explain the mysteries of the male body. His cock pulsed as she stroked him tentatively.

‘Does it feel good when I do this?' Her eyes were huge, her brows arched.

‘Yes.' Killian ground out, thinking of cold winters, wet dogs, three-day-old porridge. Anything but her pale hand wrapped around his ruddy flesh. When she squeezed, Killian jerked. He grabbed her wrist, holding her hand steady. ‘You're killing me, Hannah.'

In a quick motion, he flipped them so she was beneath him. ‘I wanted to give you control, but I won't last if you keep this up.' He pressed his mouth against hers, plunging his tongue into her dark wetness as his fingers found her slit, sliding over the soft folds, seeking her pearl.

She cried out, and Killian made slow circles with his finger, nipping her bottom lip. He needed her wet and ready. He had never ravaged a virgin, but he knew it could be painful if a woman wasn't already lost to her own pleasure. He wouldn't allow himself to hurt Hannah. Not now. Not ever.

Moving down her body, he sucked a ripe nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over the rigid flesh. Hannah cried out again, but he gave her no mercy. He nipped, licked, and suckled one breast, then moved to the other. Her body tightened beneath him. Slowly, he pushed his finger deeper into her cleft, feeling her intimate muscles clench. She was so goddamn tight. There was no way he could enter her. Not without a measure of pain. His soul ached at the thought, but it only increased his determination to make this moment right for her.