Page 86 of A Tale of Two Dukes

I won’t penetrate her with my cock until she’s mindless beneath me. Pulling away, I make a grand show of wiping her slick from my face. Incoherent words spill from her lips as I leave the bed and head for the candles.

Lighting one, I bring it over, allowing her to see it. Faint traces of sapphire still line her pupils as she gazes up at me, the need growing. I tip the candle, letting the hot wax splash upon her skin.

She arches up, taking the pain of the flame and drawing it inward, as if causing it to burn away the remnants of the forced bond. I tip it again, watching in fascination as a dollop splashes onto her nipple, drawing out a long, loud moan. Concentrating on her body and the emotions flowing through the bond, I continue to paint her, drawing on her with white wax.

I take care to not drop any near the cursed mark, knowing full well my mouth will be there soon enough. However, her nipples and stomach see no such mercy. I lower the candle, so she feels the heat, then pull away and splash her with wax, keeping her on edge, unable to think about anything other than what I’m doing to her.

Pink surrounds the edges, turning her pale flesh mottled. Her breath comes in gasps as she tugs at the restraint. Finally, her mind blanks, allowing me to take control.

Blowing out the candle, I toss it to the side and line the tip of my cock up with her opening. I ease in, groaning as I stretch her out. Her eyes are black now, her mouth opened in a silent plea.

I grit my teeth, the pleasure overwhelming us both. Keeping my mind firmly entrenched in hers, I tell her over and over just how much I love her, chanting it as a mantra as I ease my way into her body.

Once seated, I stay there, not moving, allowing her to relax under me. “Please,” she whimpers, her eyes welling up.

She doesn’t have to ask me again. Pulling out, I barely pause before snapping my hips, impaling her again. Each time I thrust in, she moans, her inner walls rippling, gripping me as I fuck her.

I piston in and out, driving us both toward that peak which looms before us in the distance. She’s so close, and so am I. Being away from her was an agony that only feeling her come apart under me can soothe.

Reaching between us, I strum her clit, drinking in the sounds of her pleasure. My knot begins to swell, slowing my pace. I keep it outside of her body, knowing she needs that bite of pain to allow herself to shatter beneath me.

With each stroke, I grow bigger until I know I must knot her or risk damaging her body. Gripping her arse, I hold her still, easing my knot into her tight body, forcing it past that ring of muscle that threatens to keep me out.

With an almost audible pop, I slide forward, my knot expanding fully as I lock deep inside her. As my cum surges forward, filling up her pussy, I lap at the mark, ridding her body of the last remainder of Hugh’s taint.

Closing my eyes, I bite down, marring the existing claim, ripping through the scarred tissue to transform it into something else, something belonging to us. The pain that flows through the bond ricochets around my mind.

She screams, but not audibly. It pierces me as the last dredges of his hold obliterates, ripping away, leaving her raw and shaking beneath me. Her orgasm shatters through at that moment, clearing away the dross, transforming her pain into something so exquisitely beautiful.

All I can do is hold on to her as she flies apart, shattering beneath me as she’s reborn. Her wrists tug at the bonds, frantic. I hear her plea through the bond, the need to tie herself to me in the same way.

Pulling back, I make quick work of releasing her, holding her close as her lips move about my chest. When she finds the spot she likes, she licks the skin a few times before her teeth embed deep inside me. A roar rips from my throat as I hold her head steady, allowing her to mark me, to claim me as her own.

The strands of our bond, much like a rope, coils in on itself, doubling, tripling. It’s stronger than I could ever imagine, like metal, forged from the hand of Hephaestus himself. Until now, I never knew how much I needed her claim.

It solidifies us, tying us together with an unbreakable force. Her love and desire for me sweeps through, flooding my mind. Everything that’s happened between us, though horrendous at times, has led us to this moment.

She comes again, her body rippling around mine as she pulls away and laps at the wound. Lowering her back down to the bed, I kiss her hard, tangling my tongue with hers. I can taste the copper of my blood on her lips, and the taste turns me nearly feral.

I fuck her mouth with my tongue, claiming it, owning it, just like I do her. She whimpers beneath me, the need matching my own. My precious little kitten, my omega, my mate. The perfect match for me.

* * *

Sunlight wanes, sending shafts of golden embers floating into the room. Catherine snuggles deeper into my chest as I draw lazy circles on her back with my fingers. I know we will need to disengage at some point, but feeling her here with me is a heaven I don’t want to leave until I have to.

Unfortunately, the moment she becomes conscious, her fear for me rattles through the bond, shattering the bliss we had until that moment. Rising, she pulls my arm away, studying the bandaged wound.

“The bastard cut you.”

“Language,” I murmur, too languorous to really care. “Do you wish to kiss it and make it better?”

She leans down and scrunches her nose. “How did I not smell this before?”

“Ahh. That would be the healing herbs. But I fear you were far too occupied to notice.”

Reaching down, she skims her hand over the bandage at her chest. “Thank you,” she finally whispers. “Thank you for bringing me back to you.”

“I would follow you down to the depths of hell and demand the devil to release you. And if he refused, I’d live with you there. You are mine, Catherine Giles. And the only way you could be any more perfect to me is if you were Catherine Dowding, Duchess of Birchleigh. Would you do me this honor? Bind yourself to me in this way?”