“Tell me.” He moved his mouth close to her ear, his voice raspy. “Say it, and I will do as you say.”
But she couldn’t. She could only whimper, her hips bucking helplessly against his hand.
Suddenly, his finger stopped inside her. It made her almost cry out in frustration, tears pricking her eyes.
“You can’t tell me to stop, can you?” He stared deep into her eyes.
He could see it. His withdrawal was torture.
“Now, promise me you will do as I say. Promise me you will act like the duchess I want you to be.”
When her eyes flashed with fire and she opened her mouth, he kissed her, silencing any protests.
“Promise me,” he growled against her mouth.
Her body was aching terribly now, every nerve screaming for release. His fingers remained between her legs, taunting her.
When she realized how powerless she was, she nodded. “Please,” she moaned. “Please… don’t stop…”
He smirked against her lips, then withdrew his hand entirely. She nearly sobbed at the loss.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice thick with hunger. “Promise me you believe that I compare you with no one.”
“Yes…” Aurelia relented in a desperate whisper. “I promise. Just… don’t stop.”
Her surrender was his weakness. His finger dove back into her, rougher, faster, curling deep. She shattered instantly, trying her best to spread her legs as wide as possible, wanting to give him enough access. He crushed his mouth to hers again, and she moaned against him.
Her body convulsed as pleasure consumed her. She had ached for this moment. She had longed for his touch, for him to pleasure her even in the slightest way.
When his thumb rubbed her clit, sheshattered. But he was quick to swallow her cry with his lips, devouring hers, owning them until she slumped against the door.
“Percival.” She cupped his face, the sound of his finger sliding in and out of her filling the air.
He was driving her to yet another climax. She was going to explode any moment.
When pleasure crashed over her again, he moved his lips to her ear.
“Mine,” he whispered fiercely as she trembled in his arms. “Always mine.”
CHAPTER 21
The door stood before Aurelia like an enemy.
Her gloved hand remained on the knob, yet she could not summon the courage to push it down. Her chest rose and fell beneath the heavy black satin, her pulse fluttering rapidly.
Can I do this?
A breath escaped her lips, and her hand slipped off the knob. She turned away from the door, choosing to take one last glance at herself in the mirror.
Her gown was everything it ought to be—elegant, radiant, and daring. Madame Lisette had done a great job with the finishing touches.
It was everything a duchess’s gown was meant to be. Yet, sometimes, Aurelia didn’t feel like one.
She should admire the gown. She should stand straighter and think herself victorious in beauty. But she could not.
Because she knew who waited on the other side of the door.
Because she knew what his hands had done to her in the dark two nights ago.
