Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

P rue had the hack driver make the block and pull up on the far corner across from the Bow Street offices. She had not wanted Atwater to point her out to the runner who had assisted Duke in subduing him. Anxiety had her sitting on the edge of the squab wondering if Bow Street would defer to a gentleman or take Duke's accusations seriously.

After a long half hour, Duke emerged, his head down and his shoulders slumped. He turned to walk down the pavement, not even glancing in her direction. She opened the door. "Duke! Over here!"

His head swiveled around and his entire demeanor changed, a grin breaking out on his face as he strode to her and hauled himself inside the hack. "I'd thought you'd left."

"Of course not. I had the driver make the block. I didn't want to draw the attention of the authorities. Did it go well?"

"Not for Atwater. He is being held. For now."

"They believed you?"

"It helped that Atwater couldn't keep his chin from wagging and confessed. He doesn't seem to think he did anything wrong. I don't know how powerful his father is. He may swoop in to bail him out of the mess he's created, but for now justice is being served."

"That's a relief." Prue sank back against the cushion. "What now?"

"An inquest. I will have to remain in London for a time to testify, but I'll be sure you are kept out of the proceedings."

She cast a look at him from the shadows. "I meant what are our more immediate plans."

He cocked his head. "My rooms are not far from here."

Was she actually going to accompany him to his rooms? While she was a virgin, she wasn't a ninny. Her innocence would be a memory by morning, but in return, she would receive experience and—dare she hope?—pleasure.

She did not hold with the tradition of keeping a woman in ignorance until she was educated by her husband in their wedding bed. Sex could happen anywhere and anytime and with anyone. Even ladies of good families found themselves in trouble. In those cases, a wedding would take place with haste.

The last thing she wanted was to trap Duke in a marriage he did not want. If she did this, he could never know her true identity. In fact, there was no reason for anyone to find out about what was about to happen. Her aunt thought her safe and sound in her bed. She had until dawn.

Betraying the meaning of her given name—Prudence—she nodded. "Yes. Take me to your rooms."

Duke gave the driver directions, slid his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close. As his thumb caressed her jaw, he laid a light undemanding kiss at the corner of her mouth. "You're trembling. Are you frightened?"

Was she? A little. Perhaps more than just a little. But she was also excited. She could imagine no one better than Duke to reveal the mysteries of the bedchamber.

Before she could assemble a reasonable excuse, he asked, "I suppose it's been some time since you've been with a man?"

For a moment, she was perplexed, and then she recalled she was supposed to be a widow, and therefore experienced. "Longer than you might imagine. My late husband was not the most attentive of men in that regard." It was a neat way of explaining away any deficiencies of experience she possessed.

"I promise to be very attentive to your needs, my sweet." He nuzzled his lips against her ear and incited a rush of tantalizing shivers through her body.

After his earlier attention, her nipples were overly sensitive against the constraining fabric of her underthings. His mouth moved to hers, and their kiss was a meeting of equals. His kisses buzzed through her like a glass of the finest champagne, and she twined her arms around his neck, pressing him into the squab.

Prudence was nothing if not a quick learner, and she very much enjoyed kissing Duke. It was not a battle but a dance, and she appreciated his willingness to let her lead, at least for a time.

Soon enough, she was the one being pressed into the squab with the intensity of his kisses. His tongue darted between her lips, and she opened fully for him. The warmth of his hand encircling her ankle made her start, but he soothed her skittishness by sucking her lower lip between his teeth and giving it a little nip.

A laugh at his playfulness bubbled up but was lost as his hand moved from her ankle to her knee, drawing her skirts higher. Was he going to touch her between her legs as he had at Vauxhall?

"I can hardly wait to sample your honey." His voice was husky and wanting. Had she done that to him?

"You are most welcome to all my honey," she murmured in his ear before biting his lobe.

A groan rumbled from his chest. "Then I will feast between your legs until we are both sated."

Between her legs ? She had assumed her honey referred to her admiration or her desire. Did he plan to put his mouth where his hands had delved? The thought filled her with anticipation. There was much she didn't know but wanted to learn.

Her musing came to an abrupt halt along with the hack. They had traveled to a sleepier area of London she wasn't familiar with. Not that she had been allowed to explore the city. Her aunt had kept her social calendar filled.

The inn was a prosperous, well-kept place of business. The gleaming brass fixtures and the jolly green paint with whitewashed walls settled her nerves. Duke guided Prudence to the door.

"We shouldn't garner too much attention, but keep your face averted." He took her by the hand.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she scanned the room but was only able to discern a few male figures gathered around a table in the corner playing cards before Duke pulled her up the stairs and out of sight.

The hallway was quiet and deserted. James led her to the last door on the left, unlocked it, and pushed the door open for her to enter. After locking the door behind him, he lit three tapers.

A small fire had been laid, and he stoked the flames. Warmth crept its way through the room. A small sitting area with a desk was separated from the bed and wardrobe by a folding screen. A satchel acted as a paperweight to scattered correspondence on the desk.

The four-poster bed was large with dark green brocade hangings. The pillows were fluffy and the mattress thick. It was a homey, well-appointed room. Some of the tension leaked out of her shoulders, but it only made her aware of how anxious she was.

"Would you like me to light more candles?" he asked.

While she would appreciate see Duke in all his glory, more light meant she would be equally exposed. She wasn't confident enough for that. "No, this is perfect. Very romantic."

She bit the inside of her lip. Romantic ? Why had that popped out of her mouth? This was sex, not romance. "Or not. This is a liaison. An interlude. A coupling. Nothing more."

A rumbling sound came from Duke's chest that sounded like laughter. "Don't dash my hopes."

"Hopes for what?"

"Hopes for more than one night together."

"Perhaps." The lie was bitter in her heart. She could only risk one night.

"In fact, give me enough time and I would have you feeling so comfortable in your lovely skin you would not hesitate to take tea with me naked in the middle of the day."

It was quite the image he planted and one she would no doubt revisit. Warmth burst low in her belly and made her muscles tighten. "That is a titillating thought."

"Will you take down your hair?" He moved to prop himself against the mattress, pulling her to stand between his legs.

Reaching up, she plucked the pins from her hair, and shook the mass around her shoulders. She was rather vain about her hair. It had been mousey when she was young, but as she had matured, it had thickened and taken on a wave. The dull brown had deepened into a walnut with streaks of light brown and auburn.

"Wild and lovely. It's a shame you must bind and bonnet such beauty. Although I am feeling rather special to be privy to your unveiling." He ran a hand up her arm and cupped her nape, his thumb caressing her bottom lip. "Your lips are delectable."

For the first time, Prudence felt beautiful and confident. Duke Barnes wanted her. It defied the bounds of her imagination. She would share his bed this one time and revel in the experience.

She popped to her tiptoes and kissed him. His lips curled into a smile against hers, but she didn't think for one second he was laughing at her eagerness. He was pleased. Very pleased if the hardness brushing against her belly was any indication.

As their lips and tongues danced and played, he loosened the tapes of her gown. The bodice gaped. The cooler air of the room caressed her bare skin. Her nipples tightened in anticipation. He had given her a taste of what was to come, and she was desperate for more.

He broke their kiss to push the gauzy cap sleeves of her gown down her arms. She wiggled her hips, and the fabric pooled at her feet. His earlier explorations had lifted her breasts higher, and her chemise offered little in the way of modesty. Her nipples were free of her short stays and clearly visible through the thin white fabric.

Her brief flare of embarrassment faded as she noted his hitched breathing. That the sight of her could affect him so was a powerful feeling. She slipped her hands inside his jacket to clutch his shoulders and arched her back.

"You are a temptress." He stared at her décolletage while he slipped off his jacket and tore free of his cravat and collar.

Now it was her turn to battle weakness at the sight of the tanned vee of skin revealed. When he whipped off his lawn shirt and tossed it away, she clutched the post of the bed, afraid her knees might give way.

Theirs had been a household of women. She had never seen a man's unclothed body. She hadn't expected his chest to be so muscular. Or hairy. It was strangely arousing. Dark blond hair dusted the muscles of his upper chest, coming together to form a narrow line that disappeared into his breeches. Speaking of his breeches, a large visible hardness pressed for release at his fall. The pulse between her legs became more insistent.

He sat to remove his boots and stockings. His movements held her in thrall, and she remained a voyeur. His feet were large, and his limbs were dusted with the same hair as his arms and chest.

She was tall and strong from walking, yet felt soft and delicate in comparison. He was masculinity personified. Her arousal ratcheted up, and her core clenched in an aching emptiness.

With only his breeches left on, he came to where the post was holding her up and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. When he leaned in to kiss her, she pressed a hand against his bare chest, stopping him.

"Wait." The dusting of hair was rough against her palm, the muscles twitching like a horse ready to gallop. "There is something we must discuss."

"What's that?" His eyes were hooded and hypnotic.

She considered letting the moment pass, but her concerns were too important to dismiss. "I don't want you to plant a babe in my belly. You must take precautions."

"Of course. I would not want to give you any reason to regret this night. I won't spill inside of you. Perhaps I will mark you here." He pinched her nipple. "Or here." He rubbed his thumb along her lower lip.

His primitive response had her sliding her hand from his chest to his nape to pull him closer. He slipped an arm around her waist and brought her flush with his body. Her chemise was no match for the heat of his skin. She was too hot, and yet his touch inspired shivers. The maelstrom was chaotic and confusing.

He pressed kisses down her neck and herded her to the side, her steps shuffling and unsure. Her bottom bumped into the soft mattress. Trapped between the bed and his body, she felt a sudden urge to run.

What if the night was a disappointment? She had hoped and dreamed of this moment since she was too young to understand what love was. But this wasn't love. This was two almost strangers coming together in carnal desire.

It would be enough. It would have to be.

His hand slid to tug at her chemise and exposed the top curves of her breasts to his gaze. A rush centered between her legs. He ran his thumb over her pebbled nipple peeping over the top of her stays. Her core throbbed and clenched, needing more.

Any confusion over her deception evaporated. She wanted a night in his bed more than anything and was willing to make a deal with the devil to have it.

He loosened the laces of her stays, his fingers nimble and knowing. Her stays slipped lower, and he pushed them and her chemise over her hips in one swift motion. She kicked them to the side. Her garters and stockings were next. He knelt in front of her. She fought the urge to cover her mons. An experienced widow wouldn't cower and hide, would she? Her hands drew into fists but remained at her sides.

With a lack of urgency that only wound the coil tighter in her belly, he unfurled the bows holding up her stockings and eased them down, one at a time, until she was standing naked in front of him. His gaze wandered slowly up her body to meet hers. He rose to standing in one fluid movement, never breaking eye contact. Her breathing hitched.

He ran his hands up her hips through the dip in her waist to cup her breasts. With no chemise or stays to impede his touch, she bit the inside of her mouth but couldn't stop a moan from escaping.

"Your breasts are extraordinarily sensitive," he murmured as he brushed his lips above one of her nipples.

Her hands found purchase in his hair. The soft, springy locks weaved through her fingers. His lips trailed ever closer to her nipple.

"What do you want?" He cast his gaze up with an impish smile.

"You know exactly what I want," she said in a throaty whisper that conveyed more knowledge than she possessed.

With their gazes still melded, he swiped his tongue over her nipple. Her knees wobbled, and she half sat on the edge of the mattress.

Each time he flicked his tongue over her nipple, pleasure shot through her. Then he swirled his tongue around the areola and closed his mouth over the tip of her breast. Her body quivered at the sensations. He suckled her breast, and her eyes fluttered closed.

The intensity he stoked bordered on uncomfortable, and she squirmed. He transferred his attention to her other breast, and she cried out. Had anyone heard her? If so, they would have no doubt as to the activities taking place. She tensed and pulled away.

"What's wrong?" He loomed over her and tilted her face to his.

"What if someone heard me?"

"This is a corner room. I doubt anyone heard, and if they did, let them imagine the debauchery." While he spoke, he caressed her breasts and then sighed. "I believe I could make you climax by just playing with your nipples. So exquisite."

Her hips bucked forward into his thighs. "It is pleasurable but also torture."

"Because it makes you ache and feel empty?"

Yes. That was exactly it. It was painful how empty she felt. She wanted his fingers inside her again. "Very empty. What are you going to do about it?" Her desperation made her words sound goading.

His lips turned in a slow, sensuous smile. "You are a surprise. Are you ready for me to fuck you already?"

While the word fuck was foreign to her, she could guess at its meaning. Was she ready? "I think so."

"Only think? You will be so ready that you beg for my cock." His smile had turned feral but also teasing.

She had known this man for years. The fact was both unsettling and comforting. If her aunt had any say in the matter, Prudence would be married to a foppish Englishman by the end of the season. She might never see her homeland again. As soon as the inquest was over, Duke would travel on. Fate would not be so kind as to cross their paths again.

It was strange how comfortable she felt teasing him in return. "You think I will beg for this?" She ran her finger from the tip of the hard staff to between his legs, gratified when he jerked at her touch.

He took her hand and pressed it fully over the bulge in his breeches. His cock pulsed against her hand and seemed to grow even larger. "I know you will."

She was so far out of her depth she was drowning, and yet it was exhilarating too. What did his cock look like? Considering he was unexpectedly hairy everywhere else, she could imagine. She fingered one of the disks holding the flap of his fall up. "May I?"

"Indeed, you may." His voice was husky.

She slid the first disk free and then the second, slowly peeling his fall down as if opening a present. His cock jutted out from a thatch of dark blond hair. It was long and thick and topped with a mushroom-shaped head. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before, and she couldn't hide her amazement.

"Oh my." She grasped hold and stroked from the base to the tip. "It's very smooth. I was expecting it to be hairy like the rest of you."

His laugh was rough and strained but held a note of incredulousness. "Did you not handle your husband's cock?"

She must watch her tongue, else she was going to give herself away. Her answer was a simple shake of the head.

"Did the bastard simply rut you with no thought to your pleasure?" His voice turned darker.

She nodded, unable to speak the lies.

"No wonder you are so curious and wanting." He caressed her cheek and leaned down to brush his lips over hers in a kiss so sweet tears pricked her eyes.

He guided her by the hips and moved her farther up on the bed until her head and shoulders were supported on the pillows. He sat on his haunches between her legs, leaving her unable to close them. She was fully exposed, thankful the flickering candles allowed her a modicum of modesty. Even so, her hand crept toward her mons to offer cover. It never made it.

He took both her hands by the wrists, pressed them into the pillows above her head, and held himself over her. His heat was intoxicating, his scent spicy and masculine. What would the coarse, springy hair of his chest feel like against her breasts? She wiggled closer but too many inches separated them.

He moved his hips slightly, and the tip of his cock bumped against the sensitive folds between her legs. Her gasp made him give her a devilish smile.

"You will have all of me soon enough, but I fear once inside you, I won't be able to stop from fucking you senseless." He leaned down to brush his nose against hers. "You deserve to be worshipped like the queen you are."

He slid his hands down her arms to cup her breasts. His thumbs brushed her nipples until they were painfully sensitive. She arched her back, offering more of herself to him. He accepted, and the heat of his mouth covered one breast while he pinched her other nipple. She closed her eyes and thrashed her head, a primal need overtaking her.

His torment eased as he kissed down the softness of her belly. She raised her head to look down at him. He was lying between her legs now, his gaze fixed at the place that ached intensely for him. Heat flushed her body as if a fever had taken hold. Was she embarrassed at his study?

Maybe. Yes. But she was also unbearably aroused, and instead of trying to close her legs, she spread even wider for him.

"You are lovely and sweet." Finally he touched her as he had at Vauxhall, his fingers stroking and pressing ever so slightly for entrance. "And so very wet."

He removed his finger, and he threw her a mischievous grin at her breathy "No."

"Don't worry. I'm not done with you yet." A second finger joined the first and pressed deeply inside her. He let out a low groan. "You are magnificently tight. I can hardly wait until you are gripping my cock."

His double digits were stretching her. It wasn't unpleasant, but now that she had seen his cock in all its glory, it was difficult to imagine sex would not be painful. Even so, she wanted him. Ached for him. Needed him more than she needed air. He pumped his fingers inside her. Before she could catalog the sensations streaking through her, he leaned closer and licked the apex of her folds.

Her entire body tensed. The rush was overwhelming. She fisted her hands in his hair, thinking to pull him away, but instead dug her heels into the mattress and raised her hips for more.

He hummed against her sensitive skin, alternately licking, sucking, and nipping at a place where her pleasure seemed to grow until she thought her body might burst. Her hips circled with a faster rhythm his pumping fingers soon matched.

The pressure was agonizing and then…

Bliss . She was tumbling in pleasure. Her body clenched his fingers until they were replaced with something bigger and hotter.

She forced her eyes open. He had moved to kneel between her legs and rubbed the head of his cock against her opening. It was a delicious feeling, her body still primed and pulsing.

His hair was mussed where she had grabbed hold, and his face was flushed, his eyes alive and sparkling. "Do you want it?"

If he wanted her to beg, then beg she would with absolutely no embarrassment or qualms. "Yes please. I want your cock. I want you. Give me everything."

She grabbed at his shoulders and scored him with her fingernails. His chesty growl fed the rise of tension between them.

He pressed into her, not stopping until his hips were notched against her like puzzle pieces. Her body tensed at the slight burn of his invasion, but her climax had left her ready to accept him.

She was officially ruined. No regret or shame surfaced, only happiness it was Duke breeching her maidenhead. It felt right.

He moved over her, settling his chest against hers, bearing his weight on his elbows. The crisp hair of his chest teased her nipples, and it was as deliciously arousing as she had imagined.

Instinctively, she raised her legs to cradle his hips between her knees. He cupped a hand under one of her buttocks, tilted her pelvis to press his cock even deeper, and took his first thrust. They moaned in tandem, and he claimed her mouth in a kiss so decadent it stoked a tide of pleasure she now recognized as the beginnings of another climax.

He thrust again and again with increasing harshness and speed. The bed rocked and groaned under them. The entire occupants of the inn could break into their room, and she would beg him to continue.

Before she could recapture the momentous feeling of her climax, he pulled out of her and bucked against her stomach, his weight heavy on top of her. Warm fluid trickled down her hip. His face was buried in her hair, his chest heaving.

She ran her hands over his smoothly muscled back to the dip where his firm buttocks curved. His weight grew uncomfortable, yet she didn't want him to leave her.

Finally he levered himself up and brushed her hair back from her face. She wanted him to say something momentous and special. Instead, his smile was the one she loved the most, mischievous and full of laughter. "I apologize for the mess."

She returned his smile, although hers felt tremulous. What had she been expecting him to say? How one time with her had ruined him for all other women, and he must marry her? Ridiculous. She had known what this was and, more importantly, what it wasn't.

It was sex, not love. At least not for him.