Once Upon A Duke (The Dukes' Club Book 1) Page 13

  His brows furrowed and he cocked his head, his dark hair caressing his forehead boyishly.

  “Kathryn,” he whispered. “Beautiful, lovely, Kathryn.” He lifted one hand so it gently caressed her neck and slid to her nape. He murmured against her lips. “Let me pleasure you, Kathryn.”

  Her name on his lips was her undoing. Her body softened into his and she offered herself up.

  “Make love to me,” she urged. It was half-demand, half-pleading.

  But whatever it was, his chest rose and fell in a swift breath and he groaned. “As my lady commands.”

  Kate grasped his back and he pulled her tightly to him as he pressed open-mouth kisses along her throat, nipping then smoothing the roughened skin with his lips. Shudders ran through her body, racing straight between her thighs.

  Suddenly, he moved back then spun her around so her hips were cradled against the bulge in his breeches and her back was curved to his hard chest.

  “Kathryn,” he said softly. “You make me forget everything when I’m with you.” He placed his strong hands against her waist then ever so slowly dragged them up her bodice, cupping her breasts through the silk of her gown and boning of her corset. “I cannot recall a single reason why I should not make love to you when I hold you like this.” He traced his hands up her shoulders and tilted her head forward, exposing the back of her neck.

  “Only you,” he whispered against her neck. “Only you.” He lowered his head and gently bit her neck. Kate gasped and jerked against him, astonished that such touches could drive her so wild.

  Kate moaned, tilting her face towards her shoulder. Following her lead, Ryder took her chin in one hand and kissed her mouth, slipping his tongue between her lips.

  With his free hand, he stroked down the front of her gown then pressed against the place where her thighs met.

  Kate groaned against his mouth, her hands desperate to touch him, and she clasped at his arms.

  Ryder circled his fingers over her mound and she dropped back against him, her head resting against his hard chest. Pressure and need began to wind through her and she pulled her lips form his, desperately needing a deep breath.

  Ryder let out a harsh breath then moved them forward. “Lean against the divan.”

  “The divan?” she asked, already drunk on pleasure.

  Guiding her, he said lowly, “Brace your hands on the arm and back.”

  She blinked, but followed his instructions. At the feel of his hands guiding her legs up onto the soft cushions, leaving her bottom up towards him, she took in a quick breath.

  As though she’d been completely distracted by their passion before, Kathryn noticed the mirrors hanging on the walls around them. Reflections of her, kneeling, her breasts pushed tight against her bodice, and Ryder standing behind her surrounded them. Her mouth opened slightly and she dug her fingers into the blue brocaded divan.

  He glanced up and smiled, his eyes darker than they had ever been as he lightly took her skirts in his hands. Ever so slowly, he dragged them up over her legs, bunching them at her waist. Kate swallowed, completely unsure of what he was about to do. She felt utterly exposed, her legs only covered by the sheerest silk and matching pink garters.

  His fingers whispered over her ankles. “You are so beautiful,” he crooned, as his hands worked upward, massaging her calves.

  The tips of his fingers were firm through her silk stockings and when he reached her bare thighs, his touch softened. Ever so lightly, he traced his fingertips up the backs of her thighs and to her bottom. He swept his hands over the rounds of her bum, parting her thighs even further with a nudge of his knee.

  Swallowing back a good dose of shock and focusing on the anticipation throbbing inside her, Kate tried to catch what he was doing in the mirror. His dark head lowered and his mouth pressed to her lower back. With his hands cupping her hips, Ryder kissed the rounds of her bottom and moved down with infuriating slowness until he tilted her hips up high, exposing the soft folds of her sex.

  A satisfied sigh escaped his lips when he slipped his fingers into the already wet folds. Kate jerked at the sudden intense pleasure and tilted her hips even higher, not knowing exactly what he was going to do with her.

  “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”

  Taste?

  Then his mouth was on her hot folds, sucking them lightly into his mouth. A moan escaped her lips and she shuddered with delight. The tip of his tongue traced her nub, swirling it as if it were the sweetest candy and his finger, oh lord, his finger slid into her core, matching the tempo of his tongue.

  Groaning, Kate dropped her forehead to rest on the cool silk of the divan. Her body was wild with desire and she was certain she was shattering apart. Just as she was sure she couldn’t take anymore, he sucked harder on her little nub and thrust another finger inside her.

  She cried out as wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through her. Her arms shook and her thighs trembled, but he didn’t relent until she was collapsed against the back of the divan, panting.

  “We’re not done, darling,” he said, his voice as low and rough as gravel. His hands took her hips and turned her.

  Her skirts twisted wildly and she pulled at them frantically, desire for him already building like heated coals.

  Roughly, he reached down and dragged her hips down the length of the divan so her feet were resting on the floor. He parted her thighs with one hand.

  Greedily, Kate reached up, working at the fastenings of his breeches. Her fingers fumbled, but she managed to free him. Her breath came in shallow, fast bursts as she reached in and freed him from the restrictive clothing.

  Ryder groaned, his hips tensing. “God, I want to be inside you.”

  Kate glanced up at him and their eyes met for a moment. “Don’t wait.”

  The world totally disappeared and all she could see was him as he lifted her legs up and wrapped them around his waist.

  For a moment, he teased the head of his cock against her opening and Kate groaned, biting down on her lower lip. And then he thrust deep to the hilt. Kate’s eyes flared wide and she drew in an astonished breath. The feeling was so deep and perfect she could hardly think.

  Then he began to move, his hips rolling as he stroked her body with his cock in long, hard thrusts. His hands held her hips firmly up and in place. Kate reached up and grabbed his muscled forearms, her nails digging into his skin through his silk shirt. For what seemed like minutes and a moment at the same time, he thrust, circling his hips again and again, driving her higher and higher. Though gripped by a growing pressure where their bodies met, Kate couldn’t tear her gaze from Ryder’s face. It was a mask of desire, his face flushed, and his lids half-closed.

  And just as she was sure neither of them could resist, he moved one hand and pressed his fingers to her nub, circling her slick desire over the sensitive spot.

  Kate’s hands tightened on his arm, her mouth opening and she moaned, “Oh, yes. Yes, Ryder.”

  At her words, his entire body began to tense and abruptly he pulled out. Ryder groaned his hot seed spilling on her stomach. His knees bent and he leaned over her, slowly letting her legs fall to the floor.

  They both drew in several breaths. Her body liquid and drifting in unbelievable satisfaction, Kate reached for him. He lowered himself and gently tucked her in beside him as they lay down on the divan, her body spooned against his.

  They remained silent and Kate stared down at the blue and gold carpet. The pleasure slowly ebbed away and she began to dread the next moments. The moments where they would have to speak. He didn’t wish to hurt her, she knew it. But he would send her on her way, just as he had done before. And she would be a fool if she hoped for anything else.

  Even though he had just given her more pleasure than she had ever known, she was still in the same scandalous position she was when they left the opera. He wasn’t going to offer to marry her. And she didn’t want him to.

  He would never love her and she knew, though it tore a
t her to admit, sex was the only thing he could ever give, because he could never give his heart.

  It belonged to someone else.

  And his body. . . to Kathryn’s shock, was not enough.

  His breath was gentle against the top of her head and his strong arm cradled her. And yet, it was time for her to go. Kathryn closed her eyes for a moment, promising herself she wouldn’t cry. She thought she had stopped believing in love when Percy Darrell trampled her heart. But she’d been wrong.

  Somewhere deep down in her heart, she still had believed in love and that happiness waited somewhere for those who reached for it, but when Ryder brought her into this room, he’d spoken only of desire. And now, well, now it was time for her to give up the hopes of those dreams.

  Chapter 13

  “I’ve never felt anything like that before,” Ryder breathed, barely able to think, let alone speak.

  God, she felt so good against him. This moment was better than any moment he’d had in the years since Jane. He blinked at the thought of his young wife, a wife who’d given him so much, and the pleasure of the moment began to dim.

  Kathryn laughed softly. “I find that hard to believe, but thank you.”

  There was just the slightest hint of pain in her voice and Ryder hated it. He pushed himself up onto an arm and gazed down at her face. “Kathryn, I have never known a woman like you nor known the kind of pleasure you have just given me.”

  She pressed her lips together and blinked. Gently, she laced her hands into his hair and brought his lips down to hers. Exchanging, warm kisses, Ryder allowed himself to take pleasure in just the smallest touch of her. After a moment, he pulled back, staring down at her rosy mouth and storm-filled eyes.

  How in the hell was he going to continue as before? Now that he had allowed himself to enjoy her beautiful body and equally passionate mind, how could he go back to his cool control? And there was the matter of her ruin. But marriage. He still didn’t know. He’d promised himself so fervently to never break faith with Jane. And yet, Kathryn. . .

  Ryder swallowed trying to understand the emotions ripping through him. “Kathryn, I—”

  “No.” Her voice was soft yet firm as iron.

  “No?” he said, a touch of astonishment lightening his voice.

  She shook her dark head, the curls brushing against his shoulder. “Please don’t speak. This has been perfect and I wish to keep it a memory to cherish.”

  Ryder’s mouth snapped closed and he stared up at the cream and gold ceiling. This couldn’t be happening. It seemed utterly impossible, laughable even. For, he knew what words she would say next. He said them often enough. To enough women.

  “I will always treasure what we’ve had, but. . .” Her voice trailed off into a rough whisper.

  Though inexperienced, Kathryn was a master already at the love affair. “I understand.” It was ironic that he’d just begun to hate himself for letting her affect his heart and here she was handing his care back to him in a pretty little package of empty words.

  “I’m glad,” she said, propping herself onto her pale elbow. “I hope we shall remain friends.”

  He swallowed, his eyes wide and burning as he continued to stare at the ceiling. God, it was like hearing himself. Is this how the women he attempted to solace after their extremely brief affairs felt? If so, he should have been shot years ago. Hell, he felt as if a pugilist had slammed an iron fist into his unprotected gut.

  “Of course,” he muttered. “If ever you should need anything.”

  She pushed herself up. She gazed down at him, blocking his view. Her beauty was damned painful. Golden hair spilled down her back in tangled curls and crushed flowers. Worse, she gave him a cheeky smile.

  When he reached up and stroked the smooth skin of her cheek, her eyes glowed with an unusual sheen and she looked away quickly. “Thank you for being so understanding,” she said, edging to the side of the couch. “I’m certain if ever I am in trouble, you would be the first to fly to my aid and do it with great panache.”

  On a complete impulse, his hand curved around her waist holding her to him. Kathryn shook her head with a sadly playful toss, then tried to stand. Ryder couldn’t help himself. If he let her go, that would be the end. She would be gone from his life. And they would never be friends. Lovers so seldom ever were after they parted. Blowing out a harsh breath, he pulled her back against him.

  She laughed, a hollow sound. “Am I your captive then?”

  “Certainly.” He pressed his face to her side, savoring her scent. It was the last time he would ever be so close to her. “I shall never let you go.” The words hung between them as false as any of his claims at honor.

  Turning towards him, her smile was tight, as if she were playing the part of a lighthearted lady of pleasure. Caressing her fingers down the side of his face, she leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his lips then stood.

  Silent now, she righted her clothes, yanking the heavy skirts to the floor. Her fingers touched her hair and when she clearly felt the jumbled mess, she let her hands fall to her sides. For a moment, she looked like a little girl who had a very merry time at a party and was now unwillingly readying herself to go home.

  His jaw tightening and his chest clenching at the sight of the innocence still touching her in this moment, Ryder could barely stand it. He forced himself to lay back. There was no way in Hell he was going to be a party to this ugly ritual of leaving. It was impossible to let the lies slip through his lips tonight or go through the motions he had done with so many other women.

  Not with her. And it was killing him to see her do it.

  His beautiful angel was fast on her way to becoming the accomplished woman of freedom she had so longed to be. And whoever would have thought it could hurt so much?

  Trying to appear at ease, he curled his arm behind the back of his head and watched her. If he studied her carefully enough, he could brand every move she made in his brain so he might take it out later and go over it. Just to torture himself with her memory.

  Sighing, she turned to him. Her chest expanded in a big intake of breath. A smile brightened her face. It was like she was inflating herself with artificial joviality. “It has, indeed, been a pleasure, Your Grace.”

  “Ryder,” he said quickly, unwilling to lose at least that intimacy.

  “Ryder,” she said softly and her façade of cheer faded for a moment, but she tilted her chin up and squared her shoulders. “I’ll never be able to thank you.”

  “There will never be any need.” The words sliced through him. He’d said goodbye to so many women. It had never bothered him. But this? This felt like salt in a wound cut to the bone.

  “I wish you every happiness,” she said carefully and then, without waiting for his reply, spun on her heel and whisked out of the room.

  Silence hung in her wake, mixed with her scent, the scent of cinnamon and roses. If he closed his eyes, he might imagine she was still there.

  But she was gone.

  And rightly.

  They had both been adults. They had confronted their desire, come to an understanding and now they would go on with their lives. Forever changed by each other.

  Forever apart.

  Ryder rose up onto one arm and, for the first time, he realized he had not taken off Jane’s ribbon. He had been too consumed in the moment to think of anything else but Kathryn.

  God, he was an ass. And a fool.

  Ryder sat up and rested his head in his hands. All along, he’d been trying to protect her from him. From his locked up heart and dangerous ways. He knew himself and the little he could give a woman. But never once had he thought he might need protection from her.

  It was almost laughable.

  Kathryn Darrell had knocked out the first stone in the wall he’d so carefully built around his heart and he was unsure if he’d ever be able to replace it.

  *

  Swallowing great gulps of air, Kate rushed out of the Duke of Albany’s house. Deliberately,
she avoided eye contact with the guests. She would not cry, not in front of his peers. Not in front of these hardened lovers.

  Gregory followed her out into the chilly night. As a good servant should, he said nothing.

  It wasn’t until Kate was in the safety of her carriage that she let the hot tears burning her eyes slip down her cheeks. Her hands curled into fists, grasping great swaths of her skirts. She’d said goodbye to him.

  Just as she should.

  Tension shook her body and she leaned back, resting her head against the velvet squabs. She forced herself to take slow breaths. Crying wouldn’t solve any of her problems. Tonight had been another lesson in her abrupt education to the ways of society. She could entertain herself amongst the sinful set. She could even enjoy herself, but she was going to be haunted by the way Ryder touched her heart. She was always going to be looking for him, longing for his touch.

  But he didn’t want her.

  Not the way she was coming to want him. And she would never let him know. She’d played that horrid game before. She would not love a man who did not love her in turn. No, she would continue on, smiling, and when she saw him she would nod and say hello. She would be an independent woman under no man’s control. And she would find happiness.

  “I will,” she whispered to the darkness. “I will.”

  Chapter 14

  It wasn’t amusing.

  Ryder blew out a harsh breath, clasped the second bottle of brandy brought to his table and poured the amber liquid into a well-used crystal tumbler to his right. He straightened the bottle, glanced down at the half-full glass, shrugged then added another hearty splash for good measure.

  The steward at Brooks’ hadn’t even lifted a brow at his Olympian consumption of brandy. It was nigh on two in the morning. The club was decently full. Several groups of lords sat at tables playing cards, shouting out toasts to various ladies of their acquaintance and drinking pitchers of wine. Another group of young toads, fopped out in towering, powdered wigs and pink, green and yellow silk coats, sat by the windows, hollering at the women of the night walking the dubious street below. The blasted festiveness was palpable.