The Duke and the Accidental Bride (Duchesses of Convenience #5)

Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

T he night air was cool on Isabella’s face as she stepped outside, but she did not feel it. Such was how hot her body was already turning. Face flushed. Chest burning. She was shaking but again, it was not from the chill.

Duncan stood waiting at the balcony’s edge. It was a larger space than it had looked outside and he stood to the right, away from where he might be seen if anyone was to curiously poke their head outside. Hidden in the darkness and watching her, it was impossible to make out the expression he wore on his face.

Not that she needed to see it to know how he was feeling.

“You wished to speak with me?” she asked as she approached.

“We have a problem,” he began, sounding a little confused, as if not certain that he even wanted to speak.

“Do we?”

“The Duke of Hermon, whom you were just speaking with. That was his name. Yes?” Duncan asked instead.

“Oh...” She frowned as if unsure. “Yes, that is right. Do you know him?”

“I know of him – his reputation. Putting a face to the name and his reputation makes all the more sense.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything,” Duncan said. “I will state it for fact. He is a rake,” Duncan said simply. “A known scoundrel whose modus operandi is to lure women into his bed through promises of showing them the world. Or promising it to them.”

“And why does this concern me?”

“Let me guess,” Duncan continued, still neutrally. “You asked if he might tutor you? Or something of that nature.”

“And so what if I did?”

“It does not bother me. In fact, I wish you had asked me first.”

“Oh…” That caught her by surprise, the honesty in his voice. She tried to redirect, certain she was misreading. “And why is that? So that you could tell me no? I am not yours to command, Duncan. I thought I made that perfectly clear.”

“On the contrary. If you had spoken to me, I might have asked him myself. No doubt he turned you down, likely because of our marriage. Not much point in seducing a married woman. One married to another duke, no less.” He chuckled. “I imagine he was quite distraught.”

“Oh...” Isabella blinked. “I... I did not think – I assumed that you would not allow it.”

“And why is that?”

“Because...” She tried to answer but none came to her. If this was two weeks ago, her answer would have been simple. Because Duncan was a controlling monster who would never allow her such things. Only now, after the last few days, that argument felt somewhat flat.“I am not sure,” she ended up saying instead, rather meekly.

“We have a serious problem, Isabella,” Duncan sighed as if pained. “And I think that you know we do. I am not accusing you of flirting with the duke.”

“I was not flirting!”

“I know you were not,” he said calmly. “I would never assume such a thing of you. But when I saw the two of you speaking just now, I was…” He grimaced. “I was angry, truth be told. I saw the two of you and my first thought was…” He clicked his tongue. “Truthfully, I wished to storm up to the man and punch him in the face.”

Isabella balked. “You – you did?”

He chuckled. “I might have wanted to kill him, such was my… my anger at seeing the two of you speaking in such a companionable manner.”

“Then why didn’t you?” she said without thinking. The thought of her husband reaching such heights of anger excited her in ways she had not felt in days.

“Would you have liked that?”

“I… no. Of course not. I just meant…”

“I know what you meant,” he sighed. “But I do not think you understand what I meant.”

Isabella studied her husband’s face in the darkness. When he had brought her out here, she had assumed it was to chastise her, to remind her that she was not to speak in such a friendly manner to other men. That he might be angry!

The truth was, she had been glad for it. It might not have been her intention but at least it was something. A genuine reaction from the man, something that she had been craving because these last few days had felt false and so unlike what she wanted from this marriage.

“I was jealous,” Duncan said, almost sounding ashamed of the fact. “I saw the two of you and…” A bitter chuckle. “And it was confronting, to say the least. My mind went to places I have tried so hard these last few days to keep it from going.”

“And where is that?” She stepped into him, meeting his eyes, wanting him to rise to the occasion because she could sense that he was working so hard to control it.

“I think you know where.”

She flashes her eyes suggestively. “Why don’t you show me?”

“Is that what you want?” There was a growl to his voice, and it sent a shudder of anticipation through her.

She had forgotten how it felt to feel so utterly and completely helpless like this. Alone as they were. Outside and in the dark. She glanced past his arm, barely able to see the door back inside the ball room. They might as well have been in the middle of nowhere, for how isolated they were.

“What do you expect?” she shot back, looking up to meet his eyes. She could not see them in the dark, but she could feel them on her. She could feel the way they burned as she trapped her.

She could sense the rage building in her husband. She could feel the heat pouring from him. He had tried to be kind. He had tried to be nice. But that wasn’t him. The real him was hidden, slowly peeking out, about to do unthinkable things to her because she had been a very bad girl and she deserved nothing less.

Isabella could feel the warmth spreading between her thighs. She could feel herself growing wet . Salivating. Skin prickling with desire. All he had to do was take her and she would melt...

And yet... for some reason, inexplicably, he wasn’t.

“I do not...” He clicked his tongue with extreme frustration. “I don’t know what I am going to do with you.”

A hot flush ran from Isabella’s loins through to her chest and she nearly collapsed from the sheer pleasure. “It makes no difference. I have been bad and there is nothing you can do about it.”

“No, Isabella...” Duncan’s grip loosened slightly, and he took a very long, deep breath. Eyes shut, jaw clenched. “I do not mean...” Another breath and his eyes snapped open. Isabella nearly gasped when she looked in them, because the anger she had expected was beaten down by a sense of sorrow that she could not explain. “What am I going to do with you? With us .”

She leaned back as if he had slapped her. “What does that... I do not understand what you mean.”

He turned on her quickly and grabbed hold of the railing to steady himself. “I know what you wish for. And it would be so easy to do,” he spoke softly. “And you have no idea how much I want to. Or maybe you do,” he chuckled. “That would explain quite a bit.”

She hesitated, not understanding at all what was wrong. “Did I... is something wrong?” She reached to rest a hand on his back, but then withdrew it.

“There’s something wrong with us, Isabella. With me. When you make me angry, when you push me – even when I know you are doing it on purpose. I lose control in ways that I’ve never felt before. I’m like... I’m like...”

“An animal?” she offered.

He chuckled. “Exactly.”

“Forgive me for saying...” She stepped in beside him. “But what exactly is wrong with that? As you have so obviously noted, I might be the last person who would ever think to complain about that side of you.” She smirked. “Personally, I encourage it.”

“There is more to it than that...” He bit into his lip nervously, debating whether or not he could speak. If this was a week ago, he might not have for they did not have that type of relationship. But the last few days had changed much, and this moment right here was proof of that.

“You remember what I was telling you about Andrea?” he began softly.

Isabella frowned. “I... the woman who you were seeing? The commoner?”

“That’s the one,” he sighed. “I was brief when we spoke of her, mostly because I had done much to forget the true nature of our relationship. One which bore some striking similarities to our own.”

Isabella waited, expecting him to continue. But he was waiting for the question. “Such as...?”

“She frustrated me,” he chuckled softly. “Annoyed me. Angered me. But she did it on purpose, knowing what would happen when I snapped. She enjoyed it. And I...” He shook his head a little too much. “I enjoyed it even more than her.” He looked at her as if he needed Isabella to believe it. “But it was not real and it never could be. Even the child… a part of me was happy when she told me that she was pregnant, because I believed that maybe it would change out relationship. That it would force us to treat one another differently. To be real with one another for a change.”

“But it didn’t?” Isabella finished for him, her voice so soft that she barely heard it.

He nodded his head. “It was foolish of me to think that it would. And when I asked her…” He swallowed. “When I tried to treat her in a manner that she was not accustomed to… she grew bored. So much that she left and slept with another man, the one who killed her. I might not have killed her myself but I am responsible. This person who I am, this monster... it is fun in the short term but it cannot last. It is not real . Andrea was proof of that.”

“It feels real to me,” Isabella muttered, not sure what to say.

“And then what?” He turned to face her, the darkness shrouding his features. Save for his eyes, through which she could see the struggle which Duncan was desperately fighting. “We are married, Isabella. Whether we like it or not, we are. And as much as I love...” He groaned and shut his eyes for a moment, taking another breath as his hands resisted the urge to snatch her. “As much as I love... that,” he managed. “It is not sustainable. It is certainly not a marriage.”

Isabella was stunned. Partly because she had never expected such reasoning from the duke – a man, of all things. Who would have thought hot sex and little commitment was something he might oppose?

Also... she’d been having the exact same thoughts as him. A marriage that she had no choice but to commit to. One which she was enjoying for reasons that she knew could not last – and would likely end poorly. Hoping for more but crashing and burning pitifully when it was offered.

“It might surprise you to hear but...” She chuckled awkwardly as she rested a hand on Duncan’s forearm. This time, she was the one who gave it a tight squeeze. “I was recently having the exact same thoughts.”

Duncan leaned back. “Truly?”

“Truly...” She grimaced. “But these last few days...” She didn’t want to say it out loud, just in case she had been horribly misreading everything.

“Have been tragic?” the duke offered.

“I was going to say boring,” she laughed. “But no, that’s not it. I have loved getting to know you better. I truly have but...”

“There is something missing,” Duncan offered.

“It has felt that way, yes.”

“What is wrong with us?” Duncan sighed.

“Should we make a list?” Isabella scoffed.

“Isabella...” Duncan took both of Isabella’s hands suddenly and looked down at her. He licked his lips, his eyes flicking every which way with nervous anticipation. “I need you to do something for me.”

“And that something is...?” She studied him curiously... and a little nervously.

“Kiss me.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Since the moment I met you, you have... annoyed me. Frustrated me. Made me want to go buy a gun and --”

“Yes, yes, I get it,” she cut him off. “What is your point?”

“That is the only you who I have ever known. From that first day that you ambushed me in the carriage...” He took a deep, steadying breath and she smirked to herself, knowing exactly what was going through his mind. “All I have been able to think about is you.” He smirked slightly. “And what I wanted to do with you.”

“With me?” She cocked an eyebrow. “I think you mean to me.”

She laughed and squeezed her hands. “The point is – even when I was treating you kindly, trying to placate you. What I was really trying to do was calm myself down. Clearly, it did not work.”

“And we have God to thank for that.”

“But we can’t spend the rest of our lives fighting.”

“But these last three days...” She grimaced.

“Kiss me,” he said again, squeezing her hands and licking his lips. “Now?”

“Is that a command?” she cocked her eyebrow again.

“No,” he said seriously. “Kiss me because you want to. Not because you are angry. Not because you want me to punish you. Kiss me because you’re my wife and you don’t detest me nearly as much as you pretend to.”

Isabella couldn’t explain why but her heart was racing. Her palms were sweating. And her mouth was salivating. And her eyes... well, those flicked to Duncan’s lips.

Nothing about this should have been arousing. Nor even that tempting. Awkward, perhaps. But the idea of her husband asking her to kiss him as if worried she might say no? It was the exact opposite of what their entire sexual relationship was built upon. Perhaps that was why it struck her the way that it did.

These past few days, Isbella had thought that she needed the fire. That she had to have the anger. That the only way to enjoy her husband was through wickedly debauched scenes of such excess that she often had to pray for forgiveness after lest her soul be damned for eternity. But what if she had been wrong?

What if... was it possible that she and Duncan could enjoy one another without the spanking? The choking? The gagging? All of it? Surely not...

“Alright, Duncan,” she said, squeezing his hands and stepping into him. “I will kiss you.”

She licked her lips and looked right up at him. This close, she could feel his heart beating in his chest and she could hear his breathing; she could feel it on her skin as he leaned in toward her. A hand cupped on her chin, soft and gentle, guiding her lips into his.

It was not their first kiss. Not by a long shot. But as skin grazed skin, opening to lips, accepting tongues which gently lapped and played with one another, Isabella just about pulled away and gasped; such was the sensation that took her. Her heart might have leapt through her mouth if it was not busy. Her loins exploded as if they had been set on fire. That warmth ran so hot it swept over her body in a way that had Isabella wanting to tear her clothes right off.

Or maybe that was just because Duncan’s hand moved to her waist, taking it gently, and his touch always did that to her. No matter how rough it was, apparently.

The kiss lasted for seconds, and Isabella savored every minute of it. When Duncan did pull away, she followed him, chin shaking with temptation because she missed his taste already.

“Duncan,” she said.

“Yes?”

“We have to leave, right now.”

Duncan smiled. “Is that so? It is quite the ride home. Do you think that you can last that long?”

Isabella considered the question. She assessed how she was feeling. She pictured exactly what she wanted to do to Duncan and how she was going to do it. And then, she came to an important decision.

“You’re right, I do not think I can.”

Unable to control herself any longer, Isabella threw herself at Duncan, her husband, wrapping her arms around her neck as she pressed her body into his and wrapped him in her legs. There was no way that she could wait until they arrived home. Even the carriage felt too far a distance.

That left just the one option and, based on the way that Duncan’s member was already pressing into her inner thigh as it begged for release, she got the distinct impression that Duncan wasn’t about to stop her.