Duchess Material

Fifteen

F or a brief moment Will wondered if he should be concerned by how wildly attractive he found Phoebe’s bloodlust, but instead he turned his hand over so their palms could touch. He held her gaze, waiting for the slightest sign of reticence on her part, but as he slowly curled each finger, Phoebe’s lips parted and she began to breathe faster. He leaned in toward her and closed his eyes but just as he was about to kiss her, she pulled back.

“You didn’t want to touch me.”

Will’s eyes fluttered open at the abrupt statement. “Pardon?”

“In the closet,” she continued. “You kept trying to move away. You nearly took off your own head.”

He huffed a laugh. “That’s not—that wasn’t why.” In truth, he had been far more concerned that she would feel his erection and think him a fiend, as it was hardly the time or the place, but the idea of actually explaining that was rather embarrassing. “Surely you must know that I’m attracted to you, Phoebe,” he said, grateful the dark carriage would hide his blush.

“I wasn’t always… sure.”

She then dipped her head shyly and his heart twisted a little at this admission. “Well, then let me make it absolutely clear,” Will said as he tugged her onto his lap. His fingertips dug into the swaths of silk around her hips. “There. Does that help?”

They stared at one another in the shadowy light as the carriage swayed back and forth. Then, slowly, the corner of her mouth curved in an impish smile. “Very much so.” Phoebe then slid a hand around his neck while her other grazed his jaw. “I do like the beard,” she murmured.

Will shivered under her exploratory touch. “Perhaps I’ll keep it, then.”

Phoebe leaned closer, but just as their noses rubbed together, Will pulled back.

“Wait. There’s something I need to say before we…”

Phoebe tilted her head in question. “All right.”

“I haven’t proposed to Lady Gwen, and I’m not going to.”

“I know.”

Will paused. “You—you do?”

“Freddie told me,” she explained. “Well, just the bit about you not having proposed. I think even she lacks a direct line to your brain,” Phoebe added with another one of those coy smiles he wanted to devour.

“Then I suppose I don’t mind being the object of society gossip for once.”

As Will moved to kiss her, this time Phoebe leaned back. “So… you are unattached then?”

He swallowed. “I am.”

But I don’t want to be.

The thought flared through him, but he couldn’t manage to say the words. Phoebe’s casual manner gave him pause. For all his wealth, power, and renown, Will found he was rather desperate. Desperate for her.

This time, when he moved to kiss her, she didn’t resist. Will wrapped her in his arms as she melted under his lips, giving herself up to him.

Ever since he walked into that police station, Phoebe had dominated him: his thoughts, his actions, his whole bloody life. It was only during these stolen embraces with her that he felt remotely in control. And even that changed from one moment to the next.

She sighed against his mouth and Will grew rock hard. As he shifted in his seat, Phoebe responded by nestling deeper into his lap. His fingers tightened over her soft thighs and he had to stop himself from digging into her tender flesh. From marking her as his own like some boorish lout.

The carriage suddenly rocked to a halt and they jolted apart. For a moment they simply stared at one another in a daze as they both caught their breath. Will then managed to pull back the curtain and glance out onto the street.

“You’re home.” He didn’t even try to hide his disappointment.

Though every part of him cried out in protest, Will would send her on her way. It was the right thing to do. The honorable thing.

Then Phoebe had to go and spoil it all.

“Would you like to come upstairs?” she asked. “My flatmate is away visiting family.”

Will slowly turned to her as the blood roared in his ears. He swallowed hard at the innocent look in her eyes. Had he misread the question and did she simply mean to offer him some tea and not herself? Either way, he couldn’t possibly accept.

“That is not a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he rasped. “I… I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself.”

There. A little brutal honesty to clear the air.

She nodded slowly, as if she was considering this frankly scandalous admission.

“Is that supposed to be a deterrent? Because it isn’t working,” she said with a seductive little smile that made it perfectly clear just what exactly was on offer. And made him forget time, space, and his own name.

“Phoebe.” He tried to sound authoritative but it resembled more of a plea for mercy.

She responded by threading her fingers through his hair. “I know that you must go back to Mayfair to find your duchess, even if she won’t be Lady Gwen. But I still want…” Will’s breath caught at the partial admission. Then she let out a huff and threw up her hands in frustration. “I’ve tried ignoring it and failed miserably,” she conceded. “So perhaps it’s better to simply…”

“Explore it,” he finished.

“Just for a night,” she reasoned as she shifted her hips. Deliberately.

“You’re quite ruthless,” he said with a weak laugh, feeling like an untried lad again.

“Why thank you,” Phoebe beamed before she turned serious. “What do you think?”

Will couldn’t look away from her expectant gaze. He had certainly enjoyed dalliances before. Why should this be any different?

Because Alex would castrate him, for one.

And because you never once felt anything close to this—and you haven’t even bedded her yet.

Yet.

Despite his very real and well-reasoned reservations, Will knew he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Whatever she offered, he would take it. Gladly. Caution be damned. His ever-present responsibilities faded to the background when he was around her, replaced by a recklessness he hadn’t felt in years. Or maybe it was selfishness. Or maybe it was simply the ghost of the man he could have been had the dukedom not fallen onto his shoulders.

Just for a night.

Surely two consenting adults could give in to their mutual attraction for a few hours. What did they possibly have to lose?

His heart beat loudly in objection, but Will brought his hand to her face and caressed her jaw. Phoebe let out the faintest shudder of breath and he pressed his thumb to her full bottom lip. Her reaction filled him with a dangerous kind of primal greed. He wanted more. He wanted it all.

“Will?” she prompted at his silence.

Will’s gaze flickered to her eyes. He had been staring at her mouth.

“You deserve someone who can give you everything. Not just one night,” he insisted in one last attempt at chivalry.

She rolled her eyes. “Well now you’re just being patronizing. This is what I want.”

A part of him was rather insulted that she didn’t at least wish for more from him, even though it was next to impossible. “And a better man would tell you no.”

Her mouth slowly curved in triumph. She knew she had him. “But?”

Will let out a frustrated sigh. “But it turns out I’m a bit of a bastard when it comes to you.”

Phoebe laughed. “Such a silver tongue,” she teased. “Take care, or else I may swoon.”

Will returned her smile but couldn’t manage an equally pithy response. For anything he said would likely be far too close to the truth.

Phoebe led Will up the back staircase to her flat. It was very late but she didn’t dare risk bumping into her landlady, who lived on the first floor. Coming home with a man would get her thrown out on the street. She didn’t think Will realized the precarious position she had put herself in, as she was doing an excellent job pretending like her heart wasn’t in her throat. She had propositioned the duke of Ellis, and he had accepted . But no, she couldn’t think of him like that. Tonight he was simply Will Margrave, the man who had once been the object of all her desires. And still was, apparently.

“Here we are,” she murmured when they reached her front door.

As Phoebe moved to unlock it, she noticed her hand was trembling. She forced it to still and turned the key. If Will noticed, he didn’t comment and simply followed her into the flat. Phoebe silently thanked herself for cleaning up earlier that day, though it was too dark to make out much beyond the threadbare sofa and small table in the common space.

“Come,” she said as she reached for his hand and led him toward her room.

Marion’s bedroom was closest to the front door, while Phoebe’s was at the other side of the common room. She entered and moved to turn on the gas lamp by her bed, while Will hovered in the doorway. As the room filled with a warm orange glow, he looked around the space.

Phoebe was rather proud of her bedroom. She had decorated it herself with things she bought with her own money. The bedframe was secondhand brass and made up with a ruffled blanket she found at a Sunday market. She had haggled with the seller before they came to an agreement and she walked away feeling like she had found a trove of gold coins.

Will moved toward a small desk and chair in a corner of the room. Above it hung a corkboard decorated with bits and bobs of things she liked: cutouts from magazines, postcards from school friends, and a few old photos. As Will leaned in to take a closer look, Phoebe hugged her shoulders. She felt strangely exposed, though she was still fully clothed.

“I’d forgotten that day,” he murmured after a moment and pointed to a photograph.

Phoebe moved next to him to see. It was a photo taken during a birthday party in Surrey with her sisters, Will, Cal, and the rest of the neighborhood children, though by then some of them had crossed over into adulthood. Will had already been at Oxford for a year and Alex would follow him to Lady Margaret Hall in the fall.

Phoebe stood shyly beside Will squinting in the midday sun with her body turned slightly toward him. Meanwhile, Will stared directly at the camera with a fist on his hip, full of youthful braggadocio. She had always treasured this photo, as it was the last time they had all been together. Now it felt like her heart was on display for anyone to see. And painfully obvious that she had been in love with him even then. She glanced nervously at Will. He continued to stare at it with a far-off look in his eyes. Then he slowly reached out and touched the edge of the photograph with great reverence, as if it were a relic of Christ.

“I found out about the dukedom the next morning,” he said softly.

“Oh.”

Phoebe could still remember the moment Will shared the news. She and Alex had been making paper fans for a picnic they were hosting in a few days. Phoebe insisted they all needed to be labeled, which was really just a poor excuse to write out Will’s name. But Alex didn’t question it. Phoebe could now see that was a gift on the part of her sister, who usually questioned everything. And then there was Will in their back garden telling them he was to be a duke. Phoebe thought he was joking at first, but then he said he was going to Derbyshire. Tomorrow.

He wouldn’t be coming to the picnic.

He didn’t need her silly fan.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it. Any of it.

A desperate sense of helplessness along with a pain so real and sharp crashed over her like a wave. Will already seemed so different, so out of reach, rattling on about all he would own one day without a thought to all he would leave behind. And Phoebe knew down to her bones that the newfound closeness they had been enjoying that summer could never grow into something more now.

She had been rude to him that afternoon, though she couldn’t remember her exact words now, and hadn’t even said a proper goodbye.

“I never wanted it,” he said suddenly, and shook his head. Will turned to her, his dark eyes full of regret. “I don’t mean to sound so pitiful. I know how lucky I am. But obviously it changed my life.”

Mine too.

Yet here he was, despite all that had separated them. And he could be hers once again. For a little while at least.

“Only I… I didn’t expect it,” he added quietly.

But whoever could expect such a thing? Phoebe’s heart clenched with sudden tenderness for that young man thrust into a position, and a world, he knew little about. “And then I had to leave home to go stay with the old duke who made no secret he thought me beneath his very notice, let alone the title,” he said with a brittle laugh.

Phoebe placed a hand on his arm. “Will…”

“It’s fine,” he said, covering her hand with his own. “We found a way to rub along—eventually. And your father was quite helpful afterward in understanding the enormity of it all, especially the business dealings.”

“Was he?” She’d had no idea.

Will nodded. “I know he always thought of me as a mouthy little upstart,” he said with a smile. “But he was very good to me. I even still employ the secretary he recommended.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Phoebe said as she took his hand. “I never really thought how it must have been for you,” she admitted. “Especially being sent away. Cal was miserable for weeks afterwards.”

And so was I.

Will bowed his head for a moment. “It was… different.”

Phoebe stared into his eyes. There was far more he wasn’t saying. She tried to think back on what she knew about the old duke, but her mind was a blank. It had been easier at the time to dismiss him completely rather than torture herself over the details of his new life. A life she couldn’t really be a part of. Not in the way she wanted most.

And that still hadn’t changed, had it? Her earlier bravado faded as Will slowly leaned toward her. This was a terrible idea. And yet, when he wrapped a hand around her waist to pull her closer, Phoebe followed. And when he leaned in to kiss her, she tilted her head back to meet him. And when their lips touched once again, she inhaled deeply, as if she had been holding her breath all these years and now, now could finally let go.

She thrust her hands into his thick locks and stood on her tiptoes while Will immediately embraced her. How was it that two people so very different from each other could fit together so perfectly? It felt like one of those incomprehensible equations she had never been able to solve. Or maybe his kisses simply hindered her ability to think properly—or at all. She found she didn’t much mind at the moment.

After a few more kisses that syphoned off the last of her reason, Phoebe turned around so he could unbutton her dress, which he seemed to find amusing. Together they made quick work of the rest of her layers until she was down to only her paper-thin chemise and stockings. Then Will gently leaned her back onto the bed and sat down beside her. But as his hungry eyes roved over her body, Phoebe felt the instinctual urge to cover herself. Until he spoke.

“You are so lovely, Phoebe,” he whispered as softly as a prayer.

His words should not have affected her as they did. This was supposed to be about pleasures of the flesh. But that mattered little to her heart, which thundered with joy. She had meant it earlier, about not always being certain of his attraction. Because how often did someone get exactly what they wished? It seemed like a dream. Something too perfect to be real. And eventually, she knew she would have to wake up.

“Kiss me,” she replied. For she could take no more of his fawning gaze.

“If you’d like,” he said with a wolfish smile.

That was a massive understatement.

As he took her mouth in a lush, deep kiss, his warm hands pressed against her waist. It felt so much better without the layers of clothing between them, but she wanted more. She wanted to feel his fingertips dragging across her bare skin, touching her everywhere. She arched toward him and his hands immediately snaked down her body to ruck up the hem of her chemise.

She broke the kiss to let out an aching groan as his rough palms caressed her overheated skin. The thin fabric felt positively stifling, and Phoebe drew the hem up even higher. Will chuckled at her eagerness but didn’t stop stroking her. Phoebe faintly thought it strange that his hands weren’t perfectly smooth, but then all other thoughts fled her mind as he began to brush her nipple with the pad of his thumb through the fabric. He stared down at her with single-minded focus, watching for the slightest expression of regret, but he would not find it.

“Yes,” she breathed and he answered by gently pinching it. Phoebe let out a surprised laugh. “Cheeky.”

Will grinned and lightly kissed her mouth. “But you like it?”

“Very much,” she panted as he continued to pluck her nipple.

“Good. And this?”

He put his lips on her other breast and Phoebe gasped as he swirled his tongue around her nipple before taking it into his mouth. She couldn’t stop writhing in pleasure as he sucked her through the fabric. He pulled back for a moment and looked quite proud of himself, but given the wave of all-consuming pleasure building inside her, Phoebe decided he had earned the right.

Will then slid his hand leisurely down her body until he came to her drawers. They were plain cotton lawn. Perfectly serviceable. But for once, Phoebe wished she had worn something a little more… interesting.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

He glanced up as he released her other nipple from his lips. “Whatever for?” He began to run his finger along the seam at her waist, giving her a questioning look.

Phoebe’s cheeks were burning, but she was the one who had brought it up. “They aren’t very nice, is all,” she said with a vague gesture toward her drawers.

She couldn’t help imagining all the glamorous women he had bedded before, who probably had drawerfuls of lace and silk underthings. And he had traveled, hadn’t he? Lord, what if he had slept with a French woman? Phoebe couldn’t compete with that.

Will, unaware of her compounding worries, simply gave her an amused smile. “I assure you, your drawers are quite alluring.” His finger then dipped beneath the waistband and skated over her skin.

“No, they aren’t,” she blurted out. Good lord, she was making a hash of this.

But the smile never left his face. “They are, because they belong to you.” The slow, featherlight touch quickly grew torturous. The lower he stroked, the more sensitive she became until her hips began to shift in jerky movements, trying to chase the teasing sensation.

“Shall I continue?” he asked after an excruciating moment.

“ Yes, ” she practically shouted. To hell with the French woman. She needed more. Now. “And you’re wearing far too many clothes.”

Will flashed her another one of those wolfish grins. “Are you asking me to join you en deshabille?”

“Well, it seems only fair,” she said coyly.

He let out a soft laugh. “Ever the egalitarian. How can I resist such a request?”

Oh, she liked that. Very much.

He stood to take off his jacket and waistcoat while Phoebe pulled her chemise over her head. Her earlier self-consciousness had now dissolved into a puddle of want. Nothing else mattered at the moment other than Will. He was momentarily distracted in his disrobement by her bared breasts until Phoebe cleared her throat. He then gave himself a shake before toeing off his shoes and stretching out on the bed beside her. There was barely room for the two of them, but Phoebe didn’t care. She wanted him as close as possible.

“Is that better?” Will asked as he stared down at her with the kind of tenderness she had once dreamed of. Phoebe force herself to look away and began to run her finger up and down the length of his black braces.

“It is,” she replied, attempting a blasé tone. “You may continue.”

Will slid a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up to meet his burning gaze. “Yes, Miss Atkinson,” he murmured.

Phoebe’s heart skipped several beats as Will pressed his mouth to hers while he found the slit in her drawers and brushed his fingers against her quim, gently at first, but then he slowly began to press more firmly. At the same time his kisses grew deeper and more insistent. When his tongue entered her mouth, Phoebe welcomed it with thrusts of her own. Her enthusiasm seemed to spur him on and he pressed the bundle of nerves above her mons harder and it ached with pleasure like never before. The double onslaught overwhelmed her senses until he was everywhere. She wanted to breathe only him, taste only him. Phoebe gripped Will harder, unable to stop the urgent cries building in her throat, and tugged his braces until his firm chest was pressed tight against her own. She never wanted this to end. But end it did.

Her release rocked through her suddenly, with little warning, and she nearly screamed against his mouth.

Will pulled back, looking surprised himself. “Are you… was that…”

“Incredible,” she gasped, still catching her breath as the most delightful warmth flooded through every inch of her body.

He smiled, his eyes nearly black, and cupped her cheek. “I’m glad.” Then he turned away and began looking around for something. As she was still basking in a haze of euphoria, it took Phoebe a moment to realize what he was doing.

She sat up and grabbed her crumpled chemise from his hands before throwing it across the room. Will gave her a bemused look but before he could say anything, she pressed against him.

“This isn’t over yet. I want more. I want you .”

“Phoebe…”

“Please, Will,” she begged, shamelessly kissing his throat and nipping his earlobe. “I’m a boring little spinster schoolteacher, but let me have this. I know you’ll make it good. I trust you.”

He let out a pained groan then pulled back. She could see the torment in his gaze, a battle between desire and honor. Phoebe held her breath, unable to keep her desperate hope bottled up any longer. She wasn’t sure she could survive his rejection. But then his eyes flashed with a sudden dark intensity and he leaned in close.

“Oh hell,” he growled just before kissing her even harder. Phoebe smiled against his lips in triumph. She had won.