Awakening His Duchess by Katy Madison

Author:Katy Madison [Madison, Katy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: duke, vodou, England, Regency, secret baby, Gothic, reunion, voodoo, saint-domingue, zombie
Amazon: B00B5MHIO8
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“Go to sleep.” Beau wished Yvette would fall asleep so he could slide out of bed, creep through his bedroom into his dressing room, and rid himself of his problem. His stones ached he’d been hard so long. From the first moment he’d lain down and touched her. She smelled so good, womanly sweet. Her skin was soft, her hair in front of his nose fragrant with the smell of an exotic soap.

He’d thought he could offer comfort, nothing more, and he might have managed if she had fallen back asleep quickly. But the longer he lay still, his arm draped over her, the more awake he grew. His cock throbbed to painful fullness. Even if he didn’t trust her, his body craved release.

She was his wife. No one would think it amiss if he slaked his passion on her, even if he was unwilling to let it be a joining wrought with tenderness. He wanted release and nothing more. It was a crass want, but he’d been denied pleasure for too long to think of it as anything more than it was. Certainly he didn’t want Yvette other than she had the right body, a luscious body, softer and fuller in places than he remembered, more perfect.

Nor was he at all certain she was willing. Why would she want him? He rather thought she didn’t—he hadn’t been kind to her since arriving, and he was no longer a refined man of distinction but an ill, scarred, ex-slave. But perhaps she thought she had to submit out of obligation.

Yet the idea of using her body—any woman’s body—against her will stuck in his craw. Too many years he’d had no choice in what he did.

She’d also been terrified by her dream. Sex with her now was wrong on so many levels, but he couldn’t resist touching her in a way that signaled what he wanted. If she was willing, he could proceed.

But when he curled his hand around her breast, he had his answer. She didn’t want him. All he succeeded in doing was taking his desire to a new painful level while she had stiffened.

Leaving her bed was the best course. “I’ll go—”

“No!”

Well, that answer was faster and more definitive than he expected. But she was probably still in the throes of her nightmare and didn’t want to be alone. He fought to stifle his urges and simply provide the comfort he’d offered.

God knew he’d had more than his share of nightmares. Dreams that left him shaking and trembling until the tropical morning sun broke over the horizon. Mostly dreams of being in the coffin and unable to get out. Or that he really had died and his life as a slave was a hell he’d never escape. He’d hated himself for being so lily-livered.

She wiggled.

A rush of excitement and need shot through him, electrifying his every sense.

Oh God!

He gasped. Squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back he held his breath. It was everything he could do to keep from clenching his fists and stiffening.

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