Page 75 of The Duke’s Unwilling Bride

“No, Sir. I’ll- I’ll do my best-” arousal cramps my insides as my release looms on the horizon. “To- Blazes!” I squeak out, slamming my palm against my lips as my orgasm slams into me.

My legs quiver as Joseph continues to slide in and out, his other fingers strumming my clit. I can’t even cry out. The pleasure is so great I’m rendered speechless. All I can do is lie there as he keeps forcing me to feel.

Over and over, my body bows up until I’m no longer able to take it. “Please,” I whisper, gripping the sides of the table. “I cannot bear… I cannot take…”

“I’ll allow you to be finished for now,” he growls, sending another aftershock quaking through me. “But at some point, we will need to work on your stamina. I will continue to pleasure you until you end up passing out to escape it.”

His words alone cause arousal to ripple through my body, and I don’t doubt the veracity. With a soft but insistent tug, he pulls me up and sets me on my feet. The world spins for a moment, but soon, all is righted.

“Now that I’m no longer distracted by your scent of need,” he grins against my skin, his low chuckle undulating over me until shivers race through my body. “Shall we continue?”

Reluctantly, I pull away, telling myself that we will most certainly pick this up again later. “Very well.” Keeping my tone light, I tug on his hand. “Shall we try the study first? If it’s still there, I know where Father placed it. If it’s not…” I trail off, not wanting to even finish that thought.

“If it’s not, we will also check the library. But I pray you’re right and we can find it at the first stop.”

Nodding, we both exit the room, creeping down the hallways, the lingering scent of my spent arousal swirling after me as we walk. Even now, it slickens my inner thighs, reminding me of the pleasure Joseph forced on me in that dank, dark kitchen.

“Careful,” he growls next to my ear. “Keep thinking those salacious thoughts, and I might take you on the stairs for all to see.”

Again, my cheeks blaze as I allow him to slip in front of me, ever the strong protector. By the light of the few candles that are lit, we make our way around with very little fuss. Whichever maid is still here is obviously preoccupied.

As we pass by the butler’s room on the way to the study, pleasured gasps seep out from behind the closed doors, making my ears burn. That’s where she went. Turning, Joseph grins at me before pushing me up against the opposite wall.

His fingers wedge themselves between my thighs, wrenching them apart. And as the maid cries out, he runs his thumb along my poor abused clit. It’s uncomfortable, and yet, I cannot deny the swirl of pleasure that flutters through my gut.

He continues to pluck and strum, forcing me to near my release. Sliding his hand up, he covers my mouth, effectively sealing any cries that might escape. I groan as my thighs quiver, so unused to this treatment. Though I want to beg him to stop, the need to find release again coils low, demanding I explode one more time.

Just as the maid screams, no doubt finding her own pinnacle, mine races through me like lightning in my veins. I jut my hips up, grinding against his slick fingers as I too orgasm. My heart slams against my chest as he pulls away, giving me a small respite.

“Good girl,” he whispers in my ear before pulling his hand from my lips.

It takes everything in me not to groan in response. Lifting his fingers, I watch as the firelight makes them glisten. He slides them into his mouth, tasting me. It shouldn’t be that erotic, and yet I find my inner walls clenching. With a smirk, he grabs my hand and leads me to the study.

As he keeps guard, I try the handle, but it doesn’t open. Of course Asher would have this place locked up. I don’t have a key, and I’m not sure where he keeps a spare.

Pushing me out of the way, Joseph takes a few items from his pocket and works at the lock. Soon, a soft click thunders in the silence. He opens the door and motions for me to go inside.

Once the door is secure behind us, I whirl about, pinning my husband with a smirk of my own. “Such a skill you possess.”

“Perhaps I’ll tell you about it sometime.” I want to press, but the pained look on his face gives me pause.

Refusing to cause him any more discomfort, I make my way to the desk with the light of the moon leading me. I strike a match, lighting one of the lamps. If the books are still here, then it should be on the shelf close by.

I scour the titles, my heart in my throat as I note the gaps of missing books. But there, at the very end, is Politics by Aristotle. Clutching it to my chest, I hold the book close for a moment, running my fingers down the spine. It’s here. The book is here.

“I understand your need to relish this moment, my dear, but time is a limited resource.”

Nodding, I make my way over to the desk and sit down, flipping through the pages. Nothing at all seems amiss, and I can find no evidence of any papers being hidden. Confusion and anger war in my mind as I continue to flip through back and forth, even shaking the book to make sure nothing is stuck.

Did we misinterpret the note that badly? Starting at the front, I run my fingers over my father’s scrawl, denoting his ownership of the book. From there, I flip through each page, my heart pounding as fear of being caught rattles through my brain.

As I get to the back cover, I note a slight bulge I didn’t see before. Running my fingers over it, it feels as if it is thicker than the front. Setting the lamp at an angle, I grab one of the pen knives from the desk and run it along the edge. Peeling it takes a few tugs, but soon another piece of paper is revealed. My eyes water as I read through the note, taking each word to heart.

From behind me, Joseph wraps his arms about my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder as he reads silently from behind. I value his strength and appreciate it all the more. It wraps around me, surrounding me like a cloak, holding me together when all I want to do is fall apart at the seams.

My dearest daughter.

My angel.