Page 74 of The Duke’s Unwilling Bride

A cool breeze flutters my hair as it curls around the nape of my neck. For something as nefarious as breaking and entering, I don’t want to look like a duchess. And so, I pin my hair up so as to be out of the way, but not coiffed or fancy, as my lady’s maid wanted to prepare.

I couldn’t tell Mary about my plans, though I might when I return home. As badly as I wish to share everything, I don’t want to chance the wrong people overhearing. And so, in the cloak of night, Joseph and I sneak through the quiet roads of London, cutting through Grosvenor’s Square, our path lit by the pale moon.

Next to me, Joseph breathes heavily, his pleasure at this illicit affair thrumming through the bond just as hard and fast as our heartbeats. In fact, it’s almost as thrilling for him as our copulation. Stopping us short, he drags me into his arms, his lips slanting over mine in a hot, claiming kiss.

My head spins as he forces his tongue past my lips, dancing with mine as his hands grope at my breast. Pulling away, he runs his nose along the column of my neck, before grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth. A shudder races through my body, and I moan, soft and low, into the night.

“Careful, my dear,” he whispers into my ear before nipping the lobe. “Someone might hear you, and you’ll give away our plans before we can complete them. Don’t worry. I’ll attend to you when we’re back at home. Oh, and never think that anything else will ever be as thrilling as bending your body to my will. Because that is an inaccuracy I will be quick to amend.”

Cheeks blazing, I follow him, trusting Joseph to lead us to my old residence without any issue. And all too soon, it stands towering over. I feel the passing of time keenly as I look upon the disheveled yard and poorly tended exterior.

“Oh. Papa would have died to see the house in such a state.” Tears blur my vision, obscuring the pockmarks and peeling paint, nearly restoring it to its previous glory.

Instead of responding, Joseph squeezes my hand, sending out his love and strength through the bond. With him shoring up my defenses, I’m able to clear away the dredges of pain. I stuff it down long enough for anger to take hold once more.

Clutching Joseph’s hand, I lead him around the back, picking my way through the dying garden. At the rear of the house is a servant’s door that’s hardly ever used. At least it hadn’t been when I was still there.

On silent steps, we walk through the door, listening for anything that might clue us in as to the occupants and what they’re doing. But there’s nothing. Not even the sound of snoring. It’s just as I thought. They’re all out carousing while the house lay in ruins from my cousin’s mismanagement.

Just as we move to enter, however, raucous laughter greets our ears. Placing a finger over his lips, Joseph motions for me to get behind him as he sticks his head through the door. Seems we’re not alone after all.

CHAPTER 35

Teresa

My heart thunders in my ears as I place my cheek against Joseph’s back, relying on him to help us navigate now that we have others to be aware of. If only they had been gone, as I previously assumed… But then, that would have been too easy.

If I’m being honest with myself, something about breaking into a place I used to call home is invigorating, exciting even. It shouldn’t be, given the criminal nature of what we’re doing. In fact, even as I stand there, arousal pools low as my gut clenches with need.

“Seems my little wanton is enjoying letting loose her reins on propriety.” He turns around and scents the air. “I dare say being a criminal agrees with you.”

Heat blazes my cheeks as I try to tamp down the feelings of excitation, but it’s too late. My husband already knows the truth. Turning, he pushes me back into the room until my back bumps into a table.

Without hesitation, he grips my hips and hoists me up, pressing his hand against my breastbone to force me down. “You’re going to be so wet when I touch you. Aren’t you?” he whispers in the dark.

The strident sounds cut through the air, and my heart seizes with both fear and arousal at getting caught. However, as I listen, they sound a bit further away. Gripping my hips, Joseph spreads my legs and runs his nose down the length of my inner thigh, stopping as he reaches my apex.

I never thought I’d wind up in such a position, at least not in an old, disused kitchen. For some reason, being surrounded by all this filth just highlights how desperate I am for this man. That I would spread my legs for him here, of all places. Then again, I’d probably spread them just about anywhere.

“Be a good little omega and keep quiet,” he groans against my pussy. “You don’t want them knowing about the filthy things I’m going to do to you down here, do you?”

I’m torn. On one hand, this is my husband, and he’s free to do whatever he wants with my body, damn the consequences. And it would bring me nothing but satisfaction to have those harpies know I’ve found happiness despite all the odds against me.

However, on the other hand, I don’t want anyone else to know the intimacies that happen between us. These are mine to treasure, mine to cherish. And so, as his tongue laps at my entrance, I bite down on my fist to keep from crying out.

He teases me, torments me as I lie there amongst the refuse of this place, dirty and long forgotten. In the darkness, he brings me to life, turning my insides into molten heat as he slides a finger deep inside me. I should be ashamed of what we’re doing, but I can’t bring myself to care.

For the first time in this house, since my father’s death, I feel free and uninhibited. Here, Joseph doesn’t care I was once the daughter of an earl. He doesn’t care that the servants Asher employed thought I was daft and not fit to show any respect.

I’m his wife, his mate, and his only concern right now is that he gives me pleasure without alerting those in the house. Holding my breath, my toes curl as he pulls out his fingers and adds another, stretching me out. I’m still a touch sore from my heat, but that bite of pain only spurs my need for release.

Whimpers claw at my throat as he slams into me hard enough to push me across the table. I crave his rough touch, need it to ground me. Again, he rocks his fingers deep inside, curling them to hit that spot that makes my body sing.

Before I can stop, I tilt my head back and moan, drawing a dark chuckle from Joseph. “Quiet, love, unless you want them to discover us. Is that what you want, you naughty little minx? You want them to find you here, your legs tossed about my shoulders while I devour your pussy?”

“N- no,” I manage to stammer as he pistons his fingers in and out of me.

“Then do I need to gag you?”