Regrettably, she also felt a little foolish. Even her own defense sounded forced to her ears.
“That was not a reasonable conclusion to draw at all,” he said, chuckling. “It is so absurd that I almost marvel at it. Real life is not like a poorly written novel, where all the signs line up so neatly like that.”
“You are being unkind.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But I wonder if this fear that I have mistresses is really about you?”
“Me?”
“Yes. Have you considered the possibility that you feared I might have mistresses because you believe yourself to be lacking as my wife?”
Bridget shook her head. “Why would I?—”
“Guilt,” Lewis interrupted. “You are beginning to wonder if all your schemes are working too well. If you had spent all this time behaving, rather than scheming, you might not have these concerns.”
“I did not ask to be a duchess, much less yours.”
“But you are my duchess, Bridget. I regret to say that what you asked for is irrelevant now.”
His fingers curled in her gown, inching it up with agonizing slowness. Bridget shivered, as her stocking-clad legs were exposed. Then, her knees. Her thighs.
Bridget’s breath quickened. She brought her thighs together, aware of the warmth and dampness gathering in her core. Her knees trembled, as her husband trailed hot kisses along the line of her jaw, her neck, her throat?—
“But you have such ingenuity. Such cleverness,” he murmured, against her collarbone. “Of course. You are the intrepid heroine, after all.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
Her thighs were bare. Bridget’s skirts were gathered up past her stomach and held in place by their bodies. Lewis stroked the inside of her thighs, his hands slowly moving to grasp her buttocks. He kneaded her rear, and Bridget’s back arched.Despite her resolve to hide her growing desire, a low and longing moan tore from Bridget’s throat.
“You have pushed me too far,” he said. “I intend to make you regret it.”
Oh! That was precisely what she wanted. Bridget had won, at last! With a smile, she brought a hand up and curled it in his hair. His thumb pushed against that delightful place at the apex of her thighs, and Bridget trembled. A sharp ache formed between her legs, which she parted in silent encouragement.
“I am the only woman that you will ever touch like this,” Bridget said.
“Oh, yes. You have my word on that.”
Bridget shouldnotfind anything tempting or charming about the possibility of them being caught, but despite all reason and rational thought, her hips jolted against him. The thought of doing something illicit and being caught and—and?—
And notruinedwas more intoxicating than any thought she had ever had. Oh, their behavior was disgraceful, but what was the worst that might result from it? A few rumors?
Bridget was already disgraced in the eyes of theton, and she was wed. It was not as though she needed to keep an unsullied reputation for the marriage mart any longer.
“Everyone knows that you are a wild, young miss with a string of scandals behind you,” Lewis said. “A temptress. And we both know thatyouwanted this.”
His eyes sparkled with something playful, and Bridget’s lips twitched into a small smile. She did not entirely understand the situation; there were too many things to think about. But she realized that it was a game and one that she was delighted to play.
“I did not,” she lied. “I am genuinely concerned that you might be meeting mistresses, and as I understand it, the best way to dissuade you from visiting your mistress is to ensure that your needs are satisfied.”
“Is that what you believe is going to happen?”
He slipped a finger between her folds, and Bridget’s thighs trembled. Lewis stroked her, quickening his movements, and Bridget’s breath came in hot gasps for air. She bucked her hips, all her thoughts going hazy as he brought her closer and closer to the pleasure she so desperately desired.
“Hm?” Lewis prompted.
He still wanted an answer.
“Y-yes,” she stammered.
