Page 3 of Misadventures with a Duke

“I assure you, Louis is not interested in Genghis Khan’s nuptial habits.”

I jerk my hips again, growing impatient—and amorous. I want to conquer this woman in so many ways, but most urgently from the inside out. With the tip of my cock down to the heavy sac at its base. And while I am doing so, to convince her that my way is the best way.

“Marry me, Magique,” I demand huskily. “Marry me, and all this is yours for the rest of your days.”

I emphasize it by thrusting up and then flipping her over. The woman lets out a long and sexy yelp.

“All of…what, exactly?” Her grin is impish as she scores her fingernails over my shoulders. “I fathom not what you are speaking of, your grace. This ticklish delight is wonderful, but—oh my!”

The sounds from her throat are snagged and sensual as I push in deeper. I soak them all in, unable to speak myself. Utterly mute from the paradise of burying myself deeper. Damn it, yesss.

I drive in my length as far as her tight body can take it. A groan spills free once my balls hit her ass. So good.

“Still tickled, my sweet magie?”

She drops her head into the pillow. I suckle her throat, a column of inexplicably divine tension.

“Bastien. Ohhh…that is so nice.”

“Damn right it is.” I kiss away her giggle with a firm but adoring kiss. “And it could be the cock of your husband, giving this goodness to you every day for the rest of your life.”

“Bastien!” She’s shrill now, as I ensure she feels every thrust in the depths of her eye sockets. She gouges my shoulders harder. The pain only compels me to drive harder. Without stopping. Without mercy. “Mon dieu!”

I slide my forehead against hers. “Not the words I want to hear, little sorceress.”

“Fermé,” she retorts. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

“Hmm. Those are not the words either.”

“Please!”

She rolls her hips, an unspoken plea for me to do the same. But I hold back, even if it is torment for us both, but I want something more than a burst from my cock right now. I need words from the sweet pillows of her lips. Specific words.

“Just say it, lily.” I kiss her, using seductive pressure and tiny licks, utterly bold about my purpose. “‘Yes, Bastien, I will marry you.’ So simple, oui? And so perfect…just like you.”

As the last of it soughs from me, I pull away by a few inches. I can already feel the concession in her limbs, softening to my demand, yet I crave the elation of seeing it in her huge green eyes too. But when I look, she has closed those divine worlds to me. Is that the sheen of tears across her lashes now? Why? Is she moved like this because of joy or sorrow?

I hate that I do not already know that answer. I hate the brutal catch of my heartbeat, confirming that truth.

But I would give up a thousand more breaths in place of what happens to my pulse next.

Its violent explosion as the door of my rented room is kicked in.

At once, the portal is filled by two glowering hulks. Protective fury drives me to haul the sheets over Magique’s nudity. She is mine and no one else’s. If I must prove it by running both of these miscreants through, so be it.

The thought is chased from my mind once the confusion crashes in.

I cannot kill either of these men. Nor do I want to.

One of them is Alonzo Mienne, who was more valuable than my sword arm during the recent skirmishes between here and Versailles. And the other…

“Marquette.” I address Magique’s brother aloud, though instinctively refrain from using the nickname he is called by friends. The name that he does not want from me right now. I know that much with awful surety. What is going on? Why is his mouth so twisted? Why are his eyes flashing like a beast with a knife in its gut?

“Well. Imagine that,” the man sneers, tilting his head toward Lonzo. “It is exactly how you predicted, mon ami. Here he is with his cares in the wind and his cock in my sister.”

“And not using a skin, I would also surmise,” Lonzo adds. “Not more than five days ago, he told me he cared not whether he got her with child.”

“Because my intention is to marry her!” I surge out of Magique and then off the bed, flinging a burning stare at both of them. “Or did you forget that I told you that as well, Lonzo?”