And Aaron lost himself entirely in the taste and feel and scent of her, this woman who had upended everything he thought he knew about control.
CHAPTER 10
“Aaron, please.”
His name escaped her lips like a secret, breathed into the space between one kiss and the next.
Louise felt him shudder at the sound, felt his hand press more firmly against her ribcage, and something reckless unfurled in her chest.
This was madness. She knew it was madness.
The Duke of Calborough was kissing her in a ransacked room while a blizzard raged outside, and she was letting him. Encouraging him. Pulling him closer when she should push him away.
She couldn’t bring herself to care.
His mouth left hers to trail along her jaw, and Louise tilted her head back, giving him access to the column of her throat. His lips found her pulse point, and she gasped at the sensation, at the way her heart hammered against his mouth as if trying to reach him.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured against her skin.
“I’m not.”
A lie. She was trembling. But not from cold.
His beard scraped deliciously against her neck as he worked his way lower, pressing kisses to the hollow of her throat, the ridge of her collarbone. His hand remained just beneath her breast, torturously still, and Louise arched into his touch, silently begging for more.
Wanton, whispered a voice in her mind.Shameless.
She ignored it.
For years, she had been the responsible one. The dutiful one. The sister who sacrificed everything so Emily could have a childhood, so George could play at being a marquess, so the household could stumble along for one more month, one more week, one more day.
Just this once, she wanted something for herself.
Aaron’s mouth found hers again, and Louise kissed him back with all the desperate hunger she had kept locked away for so long. She tasted desire on his tongue. Felt the rumble of his groan vibrate through her chest where their bodies pressed together. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she marveled at its softness, at the way he leaned into her touch like a man starved for tenderness.
A log shifted in the fireplace.
The crack split the air like a pistol shot.
They wrenched apart, both gasping for breath. Louise slid away from him, her hand flying to her swollen lips. Aaron was still, chest heaving, hair wild from her fingers, eyes dark with something that looked almost like pain.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The fire crackled. The wind howled. And the spell that had held them shattered into a thousand irretrievable pieces.
“We shouldn’t have done that.” The words scraped from Louise’s throat before she could stop them.
He flinched as if she had struck him. Then his expression shuttered, the cold mask of the duke sliding back into place.
“No.” His voice emerged rough, ragged at the edges. “We shouldn’t have.”
The agreement hurt worse than any rejection.
Louise wrapped her arms around herself, acutely aware of her disheveled state. Her hair had tumbled from its pins. Her gown was creased where his hands had gripped her. And her body still hummed with an ache that had nowhere to go.
Foolish, she told herself.Did you think he would declare his love? Sweep you off your feet and marry you? He’s a duke, and you’re a charity case living under his roof.
Aaron turned away, and the loss of his gaze felt like the sun disappearing behind clouds. She watched him cross to the narrow bed and drag it closer to the hearth, the scrape of wood against floorboards filling the terrible silence between them.
“You should rest.” He retrieved a blanket and spread it on the floor beside the bed. His movements were brisk, efficient, utterly devoid of the passion that had consumed him moments ago. “I’ll wake you when the storm subsides.”
