Without a moment's rest, his lips descended upon her breast, his tongue teasing and tasting her hardened nipple. Selina arched into him, a moan escaping her lips as she surrendered to the desire coursing through her veins. Her hands gripped his shoulders, fingers burrowing into the fabric of his shirt as he continued to lavish attention on her sensitive flesh.
"Arthur…" she pleaded, her voice breathless. She could feel her body trembling, poised on the edge of something both thrilling and terrifying.
Her eyes fluttered shut as Arthur's lips continued to trail fiery kisses over her sensitive skin, his hands expertly teasing and caressing her hips and waist. One hand squeezed her rear, kneading the soft flesh with a wildness that left her breathless, while the other firmly cupped her breast, thumb grazing over her hardened nipple in a sensual dance.
Her nightdress fell dangerously lower, slipping further and further down her shoulders, as she arched her back deeper in response to Arthur's fervent attentions. The world around them seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of them and the electric spark that flashed between their bodies.
Arthur's movements grew more frantic, fueled by an insatiable hunger that seemed to erupt within him with every moan that escaped her breathless lips. His powerful fingers encircled her hips, drawing her closer to him as he began to grind her against the evident hardness straining beneath his breeches.
Selina gasped, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through her core as she felt herself growing increasingly wet beneath her thin nightdress. Her cheeks flushed with equal parts desire and embarrassment at the intensity of her arousal, but she couldn't deny the allure of this newly unleashed side of Arthur.
"Arthur," she whispered, her voice barely audible as her hips moved in sync with his, their bodies now a symphony of desire. "You've... changed."
In that instant, the fervor that had consumed Arthur seemed to dissipate, replaced by a dawning realization of what they were doing. He stilled, his grip on her hips loosening as his gaze met hers, filled with a mix of surprise and regret.
"Selina, I—I’m sorry. I do not know what came over me," he stammered, but she could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his newfound passion and the gentleman she’d known him to be.
She swallowed hard, her heart aching as she realized that their moment of abandon had come to an end. Despite the incredible pleasure they had shared, she knew it was for the best that they stopped; they were not yet married, and she didn't wish to bring further scandal upon them both.
With trembling hands, Selina lifted her nightdress, covering her nakedness as a wave of embarrassment washed over her. The room seemed suddenly cold, the warmth of Arthur's touch now a distant memory.
She yearned to hold him, to tell him to keep going, to show her more of what she had not yet felt. But Arthur, it seemed, had enough common sense for both of them. He stood, holding her in his arms for a long moment before gently dropping her onto her feet.
“I think it wise that I go to my bed and you to yours,” Arthur spoke more formally all of a sudden. “My servants are loyal, but they are only human.”
Selina wanted nothing more than for her now scarlet body to be pressed firmly against his, while she slept comfortably in his embrace. But she knew the good sense he was speaking.
“Good night,” she whispered, “husb—” but before she could finish her sentence, Arthur had left.
CHAPTER11
Blast. What was I thinking that night?
Marcus sat in his study two days later, rubbing at his temples, as the consequences of his actions dawned upon him. For the second time in as many days, he had deliberately skipped breakfast, knowing that Selina would be waiting for him there. The thought of facing her while discussing Arthur's past, a past that should have been his, made his stomach churn with dread.
The separation had been made all the more unbearable by the moment they had shared two nights ago. He had surrendered to temptation when she, with an innocent boldness, straddled him and pressed a fervent kiss to his lips. It had unleashed an animalistic side of him that he’d subdued for countless years, and it now threatened to resurface at even the thought of her.
She had not known better, buthedid. If she discovered his identity lie, the façade he'd built over five years to mend the Valebridge Duchy would crumble. And he would have to stand there, powerless, just as he had done all those years ago as a young boy.
His hunger gnawed at him but he couldn't risk having breakfast brought to his study either – it would only fuel Selina’s suspicions that he was, in fact, avoiding her. So, he busied himself with sorting through piles of correspondences and documents, trying to distract his mind from his growling stomach and the impending marriage nuptials. But for how long could he stay betrothed to her and avoid her all the same?
"Your Grace," came the smooth voice of Beveridge, his loyal butler, breaking through Marcus' thoughts. Marcus had forgotten he’d been standing there. "Miss Voss continues to request an audience.”
"Tell her I am...”
“Rearranging your quill collection?” Beveridge finished for him. “Your Grace used that excuse twice yesterday.”
Marcus huffed, leaning back in his Chesterfield chair. "Actually, Beveridge, fetch me my morning coat. I have decided to take a walk in the gardens today."
Beveridge arched a brow. "A walk in the gardens, Your Grace? You have not done such a thing since…since you first arrived here five years ago.”
"Well, I never really felt the need for fresh air back then," Marcus responded wryly.
"Very well, Your Grace." The butler nodded, hiding his curiosity, and stepped out of the study to retrieve the requested morning coat.
Marcus paced the room as he waited, the resounding echo of his boots on the polished wooden floor bringing him some relief.
"Here you are, Your Grace," Beveridge said as he re-entered the room with the morning coat draped over his arm. "I hope your walk proves…enlightening."
