Page 39 of The Duke’s Unwilling Bride

Looking behind me, I note he’s already locked the door, and when I glance back up at him, he swings the key in front of him, a wolfish smile on his face. “You are not escaping me that easily. We will have a discussion about your shopping habits, but I confess I cannot think when you present to me so perfect a target for me to slake my lusts.”

I blink at him, his words having no meaning as they fill the air. Once more, the images Cynthia showed me come to my mind unbidden. Surely it had to be an exaggeration. If he plans on using it as if he’s an animal, I fear I’m far too small. It must be an artist's interpretation. Glancing down the front of his breeches, however, my stomach plummets.

Some unknown organ presses against the front, bulging the fabric out, and by the looks of it, it is indeed large. Again, my gaze flits up to his face just in time to watch as his brows draw into a fierce scowl.

“And what is it you’re looking at? Could it be that my innocent young bride is not as guileless as she seems?”

Drat. Without meaning to, I’ve given myself away. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize someone who has the potential to become a good friend to me. I have so few that the need to treasure this budding relationship means more to me than the potential punishment I’ll receive if he knows I’m lying.

“F- forgive me, Your Grace, I mean, Joseph. I-”

“Spit it out,” he commands, working at the buttons on his shirt.

At the show of skin, as he undoes the simple fabric, my mind scatters. His pectorals bunch with every movement, sending another spiral of warmth through my body.

“I- I…”

“Yes?” He pulls the tails out of his breeches and shrugs off the shirt, leaving his torso and chest bare.

“You aren’t being fair, Your Grace. I wish to answer you, to- to-. Please, for the love of God, can you not put your shirt back on?”

He refuses my request, and instead reaches for me, skimming his fingers down the side of my face. “Seems my little bluestocking has come apart at a simple show of flesh. Could it be she likes what she sees? Come now, for once, tell the truth.”

His words are enough to snap me out of my stupor. “Yes, Your Grace, not that your ego needs any more stroking. I find your body pleasing to me. My apologies that mine is not to you.” It’s manipulative, to be sure, but at least by deflecting the conversation back onto my body, it’s off of whatever it is that resides between his thighs.

Taking the bait, he frowns, looking at me up and down. “Those words were said in anger and frustration. My apologies that they have wounded you so. Seeing you like this, naked before me, I am of a mind to change my thoughts.”

Sneering, I recall the hurt and bring it back up to the forefront. “And in regard to the size of my breasts? I remember all too well the scathing words you uttered about them.”

Instead of answering, he reaches out, sliding the pads of his fingers under the swell of my breasts before engulfing them with his hands. The sensation and heat shock me, and I stumble backward, fleeing his touch until my back brushes against the locked door. He stalks forward, his eyes boring into mine.

“You do not get to leave me so easily, my little doll.” Before I can retort, he grabs me by the waist and drags me back to the bench he spanked me on days earlier. “Tonight is going to be much different, I assure you. No longer will you be able to hide behind your clothes. This time, I’ll be able to see every reaction you have to what I do to you.”

He places me face down and once more winds the rope around my wrists and ankles, securing me to the spot. Even though his touch is chaste, it still burns through me until the wetness starts to gather. Heat licks up the sides of my face as I bury my head into the leather, detesting my body’s odd reactions.

I’m sure he’ll find me even more disgusting now that he can see just how little control I have over myself. It doesn’t matter that I still have no idea what’s causing it. He will no doubt blame me.

“Ahhh. So wet,” he murmurs against the swell of my bottom. “So needy. Dare I hope it’s for me?”

“I don’t know,” I wail, shifting to bring my knees in to hide this secret shame.

Before I can shut them all the way, his fingers are there, questing, insistent. “Oh, no you don't,” he growls, pulling my thighs apart and holding them open with more rope. “You will never be allowed to hide from me ever again. As your husband, I demand access to every inch of you, even the parts you find shameful. No doubt, soon, you’ll realize the pleasure these places can give you, and if you’re as smart as I know you are, you’ll learn to obey me, allowing me to continue to satisfy you. Now, tell me why you were staring at the front of my breeches.”

Damn. I had hoped he would have forgotten. Now, with my brain so discombobulated, I’m not sure if I’ll manage to keep Cynthia’s secret. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. When I don’t answer, he trails his fingers up the back of my thigh, pausing as he gets to the swell of my bottom.

I cringe, anticipating the pain I know is about to come, but it never does. Instead, his fingers move to the side, caressing that spot between my legs that only gets touched to bathe. Only, this time, it doesn’t feel at all like that.

His thick digits dance across my skin, awakening sensations in me I never thought was possible. A gasp flies from my lips as he threads his fingers through the hair at my apex and gives a light tug.

“I will have your answer, wife.”

“Husbandry!” I cry out, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

He pauses and withdraws his hand, dragging a pitiful moan from my lips. “Husbandry?”

“I- I have studied, Your Grace. I know what happens between animals to allow them to conceive. I theorized that we might not be so different. And, well, I was curious.”

A soft chuckle greets my ears as he moves away from the bench. “My naughty little omega was curious? Well then, my dear, shall I satiate this curiosity for you?”