The beast of yorkshire, p.11
The Beast of Yorkshire, page 11
“Did you just lick me?” she hoarsely demanded. She raised her head up and stared at him, aghast.
“Yes,” he said with a wicked grin as he did it again.
“Don’t do that,” she ordered. “It’s unseemly.”
“All right,” he agreed readily. Too readily.
She lay back, relieved, until she felt his mouth close over her breast and suckle her. “Duncan,” she squeaked his name.
“Should I stop?” he queried. While waiting for her answer, he gently blew on the peak, causing it to stiffen even more.
“Please, no,” she said, guiding his head back to her throbbing breast. Penelope arched her back to give him greater access. Suddenly her hand was free and both hands were holding him to her, afraid he would pull away, afraid he would stop bestowing this wonderful attention on her. She was so wrapped up in what he was doing to her that she didn’t realize he had shifted and no longer had a leg thrown across hers. Penelope was also unaware that he was ever so slowly pulling up the hem of her dress until his hand rested on her hip. A hip covered only by pantaloons.
Abruptly, Penelope realized his hand felt much warmer against her hip than it had earlier. That is when she realized her legs were bare to the elements and her skirts were bunched about her waist. “What—”
“Relax.” Duncan returned to her mouth and kissed her once more.
She tried by staring at the decaying roof above her while he trailed kisses along her neck.
“Do you want me to tell you what I’m going to do next?”
“Stick your rod in me?”
“What?” he asked laughing.
“Rosalie said that’s what men do. They stick their rod in women.”
“There’s a little more finesse involved, and you need to stop letting Rosalie give you advice,” he said before kissing her deeply. “I am going to seduce you and introduce you to a small portion of the world of passion. When I make you my wife, it will not be on the floor of some ruin, but in a nice, soft bed where I can take my time with you.”
“Then what are you going to do now?”
“Do you feel a tightness inside you? It feels like you might snap at any moment?”
“Yes,” she said, licking her lips nervously.
“I can make that go away,” he whispered, then suckled her earlobe. “Would you like me to take care of that for you? Would you let me help you?”
“Yes,” she whispered and stared at him, her teeth worrying her lower lip.
* * *
Duncan kissed her deeply, gratefully, rescuing her lower lip from those beautiful, white teeth of hers. He placed kisses along her neck down to the place where it met her collarbone. He suckled lightly then laved the spot with his tongue. Duncan returned to worshipping her breasts. He gently moved her legs apart and felt her stiffen. “Trust me,” he said as he lifted his head and looked at her. “You’re a beautiful woman,” he told her.
“No. I’m just plain.”
“You’re anything but plain,” he countered. He brushed her mound and felt a slit in her pantaloons.
“What are you doing?” She halted his progress by gripping his wrist.
“Remember, that ache will go away if you will trust me.”
“I don’t know if I can.” He could hear the insecurity in her voice.
“Give me a chance.”
He relaxed as she slowly released his hand. Duncan took her hand and put it beside her head once more. “I want you to grip my coat anytime you feel unsure. All right?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He noticed she was already gripping the coat as if it were her lifeline. He gave her a devastating smile and then kissed her soundly. Duncan was still kissing her when he returned his hand to her leg. He pushed her ankle towards her hip, making her leg form a peak, then gently pushed it to fall outward. Once more, he returned his attention to her breasts as he used his finger to rub along the entrance to her femininity.
“Duncan!” she yelled, twisting the coat mercilessly.
“Should I stop?”
“I don’t know,” she whimpered, as a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she shook her head. “Is this wrong to feel this? When we barely know one another?”
“I hope it’s a sign.”
“A sign for what?”
“That we belong together. I think we are very lucky to feel this powerful attraction already. Now, I’ll ask you again. Should I stop?”
“No.”
“Thank you,” he said before continuing. He returned to suckling her breasts while he taught her about lovemaking. He moved up to her ear and praised her. “You’re so passionate,” Duncan whispered to her. “This wet heat is your body’s way of telling me you like what I’m doing to you. And this,” he said, pressing on her little piece of flesh, “this is going to give you release.”
Her body tightened, she let out a gut wrenching moan that reached his ears, then he watched her wilt to the ground.
Chapter 8
When Penelope came back to herself, she felt a languidness she had never before experienced. Her center still felt dewy in the aftermath of their passionate afternoon. Her dress once more covered her legs and bosom. She looked up to see Duncan watching her, a silly smile on his face. He bent down and kissed her softly.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“For sharing your first time with me.”
“Everything we do will be my first time,” she reminded him.
“Thank you just the same.”
“You’ve had at least two first times before me,” Penelope stated bluntly.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Need I remind you—”
“Neither of my other wives were virgins when they came to our marriage bed.”
“Oh.”
“Isabelle turned out to be a rather lusty young woman and apparently Samantha fancied herself in love with someone else.”
“I see.” Penelope thoughtfully studied him while he caressed her cheek, her lips, her brow. He was playing with her loosened hair when she quietly suggested, “You know we could—”
“No, the storm is letting up. We should return home.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
“Help me up,” she said. “I must look a mess.”
“You look beautiful,” he countered.
Penelope felt a blush steal over her. She straightened her pelisse and buttoned it once more. She kept fidgeting with her dress, gloves, and bonnet until finally a pair of masculine hands clasped hers tightly.
“You look wonderful. No one will be able to tell anything happened.”
Penelope nodded, then felt a finger gently lift her chin until she was forced to meet his gaze. She watched him as he leaned down and settled his lips over hers once more. Her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned against him, savoring the kiss. She found she was sorry when it ended. She opened her eyes to see him staring at her.
“Remember, whenever you’re ready to take this further we will. It’s your choice.”
“Kiss me again, Duncan,” she ordered. She lifted up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms about his neck. Penelope luxuriated once more in the feel of his lips against hers and their tongues tangling together. She was so lost in the kiss that when he pulled away, she tried to follow his lips.
“Pen, we have to stop, or your initiation to lovemaking will be here, on the hard ground, after all.”
“I don’t think I would mind,” she mused.
“As long as there is a doubt in your mind, we will wait.”
She felt disappointment mingled with something else. How could anyone think him a beast or that he murdered those women when he made her feel infinitely cared for? It just amazed her. “Shall we go home then?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, leading her back to the curricle.
They were halfway to Taggart Hall when they met up with Reese. The look on the other man’s face could only be described as frantic.
“What’s wrong?” Duncan asked.
“The two of you are what’s wrong. Where the devil have you been? I’ve been all over, looking for you,” Reese returned.
“The Bay?” Penelope asked, a perplexed look on her face.
“It’s the shortened version of Robin’s Hood Bay. It’s how the locals refer to it,” Duncan explained to her.
“Yes, and no one saw you today.”
“No, we decided to go to Whitby,” Duncan answered over her head.
“Whitby? Why the hell would you go there?”
“Because I’m currently not welcome in the Bay, remember?”
Penelope could hear the hurt in his words. She placed a gentle hand on her husband’s tense thigh. How could anyone believe Duncan a murderer when he cared so much about the people around him? She had to stop this interrogation before it got out of hand and resulted in the two brothers turning to fisticuffs. “Reese, Duncan and I had a lovely afternoon. He showed me some of this beautiful landscape.”
“Oh, really? What?”
“Well, Whitby Abbey, for one. It’s some of the loveliest ruins I’ve ever seen. We were caught by the rain, and decided to picnic there and well…”
“Yes?” Reese asked impatiently.
“We got to know one another better.”
“Just how well did you get to know one another?” Reese asked sarcastically. “You look a little worse for the wear.”
“Reese,” Duncan growled.
“We talked,” Penelope raised her voice to be heard over the bickering siblings, “about our pasts.” She emphasized the last word and gave Reese a meaningful look. She noted that he at least looked chastised. “We have decided to make the best of our marriage. There are things, mutual things, that we both want out of it, such as children. We would appreciate the opportunity to get to know one another without everyone always hovering about.”
“I see how the wind blows,” Reese mused. “But I will not stand aside while another Duchess of Yorkshire meets her untimely death. I will be in the background, making certain that you remain safe at all times.”
“Why you—”
Penelope squeezed Duncan’s leg when he leaned across her as if he were going to jump out and strangle his younger brother. She was afraid that was exactly what he wanted to do. “Reese,” she said softly, “it’s not necessary, because I am absolutely safe with your brother, but if you feel the need, do what you must.”
“Rest assured, I will,” he said.
“Duncan, shall we go home before it begins to rain once more?”
“Yes.”
Penelope winced as Duncan slapped the reins against the horse’s back a little harsher than necessary. “The horse didn’t do anything wrong,” she admonished.
“You’re correct.”
She looked back and saw Reese trailing behind them at a sedate pace. “Are the two of you ever going to make amends?”
“It’s doubtful.”
What had started out as a pleasant ride back to the Hall ended up being a quiet and tense affair. When they reached the front door, he helped her down and inside the rambling castle.
“I’ll see you at supper,” Duncan said.
“I think I’ll eat in my room tonight,” she said. Was that disappointment on his face? Regardless, she needed time to think. Time to review today’s events, all of them. And time to herself.
* * *
Duncan watched her disappear inside the Hall and felt like they had just taken two steps backwards, if not more.
“Did she wizen up and leave you behind?” Reese taunted.
“Walk away,” Duncan muttered repeatedly to himself, but his brother wouldn’t let it go. He could feel Reese standing close behind him. He took a step toward the house, but halted when he heard him speak.
“Don’t let anything happen to her.”
“Why? So you can have a chance to win her over like you did Isabelle?”
“Go to hell,” Reese replied.
“I’ve been there for years,” Duncan countered before he turned and walked into the house. How could a day that had started so well end up being so disappointing? That seemed to be the story of his life. He walked in the house, let the butler know he would not be joining the rest of the family for supper, and locked himself in his study to work on estate matters.
* * *
Upstairs, Penelope reclined in the large bed wondering, not for the first time, how wise this decision was. Then she would think back over the afternoon they had spent together and her body would catch on fire once more. What kind of power is it that he wields over me? she wondered. She hadn’t been expecting this physical connection between them. She thought she would have to endure his touch, not look forward to it. At least the idea of begetting children was no longer repulsive. Penelope fought sleep as the seconds turned into minutes and the minutes into hours, but in the end she lost the battle.
Sometime later she was startled awake by the sound of a door slamming shut. A deep darkness descended upon the room. She looked to the side and saw that the candle she had lit earlier had gone out. Penelope let her eyes adjust to the inkiness. She lay very still as she watched him move around without lighting a single lamp or candle. His body was silhouetted by the light of the soft moonlight just breaking through the sheers. He tossed something dark over a chair and then there was a grunt, followed by a thud. Penelope started to ask him if he was all right, but changed her mind and remained silent.
She watched as he poured liquid from the decanter into a glass. He tossed back the liquid, drinking it down in one gulp. She studied him as he unwrapped his cravat and placed it on the dresser. Next, he tugged his shirt free of his breeches and she could feel her heart race and her body heat up. Before too long, the shirt slid down his arms, revealing his broad back to her. She could see the bandage that was wrapped around his upper arm covering the wound that she had seen to almost a week ago. I really should check it to make certain it’s healing properly, she thought. Penelope held her breath as he bent over and worked his second boot free. His posterior looked firm and her hands ached to squeeze him as he had her. What madness has overtaken me? She wondered silently.
Her breath stuck in her throat as he worked the buttons of his breeches free. He pushed the material over his hips and downward, then he kicked them free. The man was as nude as a newborn babe, but the similarities stopped there. No, this man looked like the marble statues she had seen in the museum and gardens in London. When he turned sideways, it took all of her willpower to keep from gasping. Penelope watched in awe as the part that made him a man grew and slowly went from being flaccid to pointing towards the ceiling. Is it supposed to do that, or is there something wrong with him? she wondered. She felt her skin heat in a flush beneath the shift she wore and the bed clothes on top of her. Penelope wanted to squirm, but she didn’t dare move. No. She would remain still and pray he fell asleep before he realized she was in his bed. Then she would slip out, undetected. After all, the bed was quite large, and she was almost on the edge. This was a very bad idea, she berated herself.
She held her breath as he approached the bed. He tossed the covers to the side, on top of her, and laid back on the bed. Penelope heard him groan and peeked over the covers, curious as to what was wrong. Her eyes widened at what she saw. He had wrapped his hand around his manhood and was rubbing up and down. Why is he doing that? She didn’t have long to wait to get her answer. Duncan groaned and jerked, and then he was covering that part of him with a cloth, but not before Penelope saw something shoot out of him.
“Eeek!” She threw the covers over her head, mortified.
Chapter 9
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Duncan demanded. He stood, swept the coverlet off the bed, and wrapped it around his hips. Duncan dropped the other cloth in his haste to cover himself. “How long have you been there?”
“A while,” she murmured from beneath the sheet and blanket.
“Why?” He grew impatient as he waited for an answer. “Well?” he demanded when it looked as if she would just remain silent, hiding beneath the sheets. He took a moment to light a lamp so that soft light kept the darkness at bay.
“Because…”
“Yes?”
“Because I want a child.”
Not him, but a child. But he was the means to the end. And just like that, his earlier erection that had been caused by thoughts of their afternoon together returned with a vengeance. Could he live with the knowledge that he was being used like a stud? But aren’t you willing to use her like a broodmare? he questioned himself. Both comparisons were harsh, but true. The only thing they both agreed they wanted out of this marriage was children, and there was only one way to go about creating those children. He felt himself grow harder, which should be impossible after what happened just moments earlier.
“Come out from under the covers,” he ordered. He watched her peek at him from beneath the sheet. “You’ll have to come out from under there if we are to do what you want us to do.”
“I’ve changed my mind,” she said.
“Why?” He waited, but she remained silent. “Penelope, do you still want a child?”
“Yes.”
“Then why the change of heart?”
“I saw…”
“What?”
“Everything.”
“And during your viewing of everything, when did you change your mind?” He watched Penelope twist the sheet and blanket in her hands. She refused to look at him. “Penelope?”
“Your thing,” she muttered.
“My member, you mean?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes and seemed to cringe. Did she find him so distasteful? “What about it?” he persisted.
“It g…grew, and moved.”
“It has to do that to create children,” he explained. “Rosalie said she talked with you, and this afternoon didn’t you feel me, it, pressing against your hip?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Well?” He watched her shake her head in the negative. “Let me hazard a guess. You watched what I was doing to myself, didn’t you?”
