That is precisely what I want, Duchess.
He did not relent. Instead, he moved his tongue faster until her juices flowed from her as she shivered violently on the seat.
The carriage finally began slowing.
Victor cursed softly under his breath while Charlotte quickly lowered her skirts back into place. Both of them were flushed, dishevelled, and breathing far too unevenly for propriety. Charlotte looked across at him with a shy little smile that somehow struck him harder than any flirtation ever could.
And then it hit him.
Not lust. Not simple desire. Something infinitely worse.
Victor stared at his wife as sunlight filtered through the carriage windows and realized with cold clarity that somewhere along the way, he had begun to care for her.
Truly care.
The knowledge settled heavily inside his chest, terrifying in its sincerity.
This was never supposed to happen.
He had intended marriage to be convenient. Controlled. Safe. Yet here he was kneeling at Charlotte’s feet like a man utterly bewitched by his own wife.
Charlotte tried unsuccessfully to compose herself. Her lips were still swollen from nervous biting, her cheeks pink with lingering heat. She looked devastatingly lovely.
The carriage slowed as they approached the gates of the Holmby estate hosting the party. Victor immediately recognized the sprawling grounds overflowing with colourful flower beds, marble fountains, and elegantly dressed guests already wandering across the lawns. Laughter and music drifted faintly through the open carriage window. Normally, he would have welcomed arriving at any social event simply because it meant escaping this damned carriage.
Today, he wanted to escape more than ever.
This cannot be happening. It is a moment of carnal pleasure and nothing more. I forbid it to be anything else.
Charlotte glanced toward the window eagerly.
“It looks beautiful.” Victor followed her gaze. White marquees had been erected across the gardens while servants carried silver trays of champagne and little pastries between guests. Ladies wore bright gowns in shades of lavender, yellow, and blue, their ribbons fluttering in the breeze.
“You sound excited,” he observed.
“I am,” Charlotte admitted. “I have never attended so many grand events in such a short span of time.”
Her expression softened slightly as she looked back at him. “Sometimes I still feel as though this cannot possibly be real.”
Victor understood the feeling more than he cared to admit.
I do not want this to be real. I want to flee back to my old life.
A footman opened the carriage door at last.
Victor stepped out first and immediately turned to help Charlotte descend. His hand closed firmly around hers as she stepped onto the gravel path beside him. The moment she stoodfully upright, several nearby guests glanced toward them with obvious curiosity and admiration.
Victor felt an entirely different sort of tension settle into him then.
Charlotte looked beautiful beneath the sunlight, her curls pinned elegantly beneath a little bonnet trimmed with cream ribbons. The fitted bodice of her gown hugged her curves in a way that drew far too much attention from nearby gentlemen. Victor noticed three men staring within the first ten seconds.
His jaw tightened immediately.
Fools, I'll throttle you all.
Charlotte looked up at him in confusion. “What is it?”
Victor forced a smooth expression onto his face. “Nothing.”
