Page 56 of Duchess Needed
Something split open in her chest – warm and aching and too large to be entirely comfortable.
He pressed into her slowly, and her breath left her in a long, unsteady exhale. He kept his eyes on her face, as he settled into a slow, deep rhythm, each stroke taking her further apart and leaving her devastated.
He continued to speak to her, murmuring as they moved together – sweet nothings accompanied by little kisses that made her feel like crying again.
“Does this feel good?” he asked at one point, low against her ear.
“Yes,” she admitted, without an ounce of shame. “Yes, it does.”
“Good,” he remarked simply, and she felt the warmth of the word against her cheek.
When the pleasure finally broke over her it was long and slow and she felt happier knowing that she shared it with him. She pressed her face against his shoulder and held on, listening to his ragged breathing against her neck.
For a long while, neither of them spoke as they remained like that, pressed together as though they wanted to preserve the moment for as long as possible. Eventually, he pulled out, but he stayed close, pulling her to his chest and keeping her there as he stroked her hair silently.
Phoebe did not know when she fell asleep.
She woke to pale morning light and an empty space beside her.
The impression in the pillow next to hers told her she had not dreamed the night, and she remained there for a little while, allowing herself to recall every kiss and touch that had driven her wild the night before.
Last night had been... amazing. There was no other word to describe how wonderful it had been, how much it had changed something between them. There was something rising in her chest, careful and fragile and she recognized it as hope of the possibility that things were shifting between them.
She pressed her palms against her face and smiled into them, briefly and privately, permitting herself a moment of girlish glee.
Then she gathered herself together, got dressed haphazardly, and slipped out of his room quietly. She made her way to her own chambers, washed, dressed, and by the time Jenny arrived to help with her hair, there was a smile on her lips that she could not fight back.
She went down to breakfast feeling genuinely eager for the day. Her mood brightened even more when she noticed Edward standing in the entrance hall from her place at the top of the stairs.
He was already dressed and clearly prepared to go out speaking quietly to the footman near the door. He looked up when she began to descend, and for just a moment, something passed across his face.
She felt her heart lift, and allowed herself a smile as she reached the bottom step.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Duchess.” The word sounded pleasant, but felt clipped as he uttered it. “I see you are up and about, then. I was just leaving to go riding and I shall be out for the rest of the morning.”
Phoebe stopped, unable to keep her whole demeanor from deflating.
“Oh,” she mumbled. “I had thought – perhaps you might join me for breakfast, before you go out. It won’t take too long.”
He did not look at her when he answered. “I have already eaten. You needn’t wait on my account.”
And then he was through the door, pulling it shut behind him with a quiet, final certainty that left no space for anything further.
Phoebe stood at the bottom of the stairs and stared at the closed for a moment longer than she thought she should. Then she turned around and made her way to the dining hall.
She told herself the sting in her chest was nothing. Clearly, he was busy and, in a hurry, which was why he had barely looked at her before he left. After all, there was nothing that could have happened or gone wrong to ruin what had transpired between – nothing had the power to do so in the span of a single night.
They were going to be fine.
It did not take Phoebe too long to realize she did not believe a word she had said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
One would think that given how long Edward had been alive, he would know more better than to overindulge in brandy.
The headache that greeted him as he gained consciousness served as proof that age did not equate wisdom and further showed that his foolishness might be never ending if he continued down this path.
