Page 41 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“You’re so good,” he said, his voice in her ear, laden with desire. “So perfect.”

He licked the skin behind her ear as his fingers moved closer to her core. And then a gentle touch exactly where she needed him.

“Ah!”

“Yes.”

It was his turn to moan, pulling her closer to him. His one hand kept her in place while still teasing her breast. His mouth was almost glued to her ear, so she could sense every little gasp.

“So wet for me,” he growled.

And then his fingers moved more purposefully. He found an aching center. His fingers, slick from her juices, went over that small nub of desire.

“Oh, I…” she cried out.

“I know, sweetheart,” he hushed her in her ear, pulling her softly against him. “You are doing so well.”

His fingers moved faster, pressing harder, and she felt herself climbing into a sensation she had never felt before. Marigold let her head fall on his shoulder, her body melting in his arms but also, at the same time, tensing.

He turned her head, sought her lips, and devoured her, his tongue moving in sync with his fingers, all hunger and tenderness at the same time.

“Let go,” he snarled against her lips when she felt herself grind against his hand on instinct.

She felt white-hot desire burn through her, delicious sweetness filling her mouth, her body trembling uncontrollably.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he purred. “I’ve got you. You are safe in my arms.”

“Yes. Oh!”

“Let me see you come apart.” His voice got darker, deeper, needier.

She shattered at his command. She ascended high and then a free fall into a blinding sensation as her body arched. Her core clenched around him, and a long moan escaped her mouth.

“So beautiful,” he hummed. “My Duchess is so beautiful when she comes apart.”

He kissed and nibbled on her skin as she was coming back together, shaking, panting, a total mess in his arms. She was disheveled and naked with her cheeks inflamed.

Marigold closed her eyes, and she chose to believe him.

CHAPTER 13

UNANNOUNCED VISITOR

The morning light streamed through the windows, making the dust floating in the air flicker like gold. But Brandon had no intention of going poetic this morning. He was still processing the information that Marigold had given him about Johnny’s gang. His coffee had gone cold about an hour ago, and he had not touched it.

He pretended for a while now that his mind was occupied regarding the gangs, the docks, and the men he was looking for. He also pretended that all his attention was on his wall, yet his eyes and mind kept drifting to the couch.

“Hell!” he hissed under his breath.

Because that’s precisely where he felt he was ever since Marigold’s sounds echoed in this study. Brandon ran his hand over his face and then went to the window. This was not supposed to happen. This was a simple transaction, and somehow, he managed to botch it.

Why did it have to be that brave, brilliant, beautiful human who held all this information? Anyone else, any other lady of the ton, would be more interested in gowns and jewels and hairstyles than of a patch of land to work with her hands and wouldn’t have stirred the same reaction in him.

“Focus!” he chastised himself.

Just as he was about to throw himself back into the research, he heard an unusual sound. A giggle. His staff rarely indulged in such frivolity. They were too proper and too intimidated by him. And yet someone was laughing. More precisely, it sounded like a chorus of feminine giggles.

Brandon threw his pen on the table. There was only one person in the whole world who could have such an effect in his own household. He opened the door and made his way to the drawing room.