Page 13 of A Duchess Untouched

“What becomes of me then if you die?” Selina retorted. “Will I still be considered the Duchess of Wentley, then? No. People mock me behind my back already. The ton’s tongues have been wagging. Certainly, you can see that your mother’s friends laugh at me, even here, in what is supposed to be my own house. All of that is due to your completely neglecting your duty!”

“Is that what this really is about?” he asked, his voice lowered to a murmur. “Duty? Are you so terribly loyal to duty, Selina, that you would let me do whatever I want with you if it meant you would secure your position? Would you play the role of the obedient wife? A dutiful wife?”

Selina’s eyes widened. She gasped as Matthew’s large, rough hand wrapped around her delicate throat. He did not press hard enough to hurt her, but she could still feel how firm and strong he was against her skin, with his thumb rubbing her pulse point. She knew he could tell how fast her heart was racing. The sensation was both thrilling and shocking, but she did not fight it. All she knew was that she felt like drowning. Worse, she liked it.

The Duke tilted her head back as if to inspect her pale neck. His eyes seemed to focus on where her pulse throbbed.

“If you are so obedient… would you let me bite you here?” he asked, his lips so close to her ear. Heat coursed through her. She was not certain how these things worked, but she knew it left her restless, and a low ache was uncurling somewhere beneath her skin. “After all, you want to be a dutiful wife.”

Selina whimpered. She clutched at the lapels of his waistcoat as if she would fall if she did not. He leaned even closer, his mouth grazing the curve of her neck. Then, he nipped it enough to make his point. It was an act of possession. She felt a dizzying wave that made her knees go even weaker.

What would it be like to faint in his arms?

It was all she could do to gather herself. She did not want the humiliation of physically swooning over the husband who had neglected her for years, as if she were a mere paperweight on a shelf that did not even get to play its part. However, before she could completely summon her strength to pull away, her husband had other plans.

“Would you let me kiss you like this?” he rasped.

Then, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. Selina kissed him back as if she had been waiting for this moment her whole life, and when he nudged her lips with his tongue, she opened her mouth to give him access. What was more frightening was that she would give him much more had he asked, and this had nothing to do with duty. His kiss was more possessive than she would have expected from an indifferent husband as he pressed her further against the door to deepen it, and when he gently bit her lower lip, she could not help but whimper.

He pulled back, breathing heavily. His heavy-lidded eyes stared down at her lips. They felt swollen and well-kissed, and remained open and expectant. When his thumb traced her jawline, she trembled.

“Would you let me strip you bare, wife?” he asked. “Would you let me turn you around and have my way with you, only for me to leave again? Would you want me to take you hard against my desk only to disappear?”

Even through the haze of desire, the words had begun to become clearer to her.

Did he really mean to…

Selina let out another whimper at his words and hated herself for it. He had asked her a question and answered it himself before she ever could, because the answer was written plainly across her face, in her hands, in the way she had kissed him back as if he were air and she were starved for it. She wanted him to do everything he promised, but she also wanted him to stay. She had let him see that she wanted it. But now she pulled back from him.

She would not have him play games with her like that.

“I did not think so,” he said.

He then stepped back. The movement was enough to warrant another whimper, but Selina bit her lower lip. She could not help but feel forlorn at the loss of his heat on her, but she had humiliated herself enough for one day.

The Duke reached past her, grabbed the handle, and opened the door. For a moment, Selina felt frozen. She knew what the open door meant, and she wanted to rebel against it. At that moment, though, she knew that the best thing to do was to walk away. She was not going to act the simpering fool.

With her legs still unsteady, she forced herself out of the room.

Chapter 7

“Selina! Why do you look like you have been dragged through a hedge?” Portia asked.

“What do you mean, sister? I… I look and feel perfectly fine!” Selina exclaimed as she tried to fix any strands of her hair that might have escaped.

Portia, her older but still unmarried sister, was holding another book, as usual. She smiled at Selina, but she kept looking at her warily.

Do I look this dreadful?

“Well, you look beautiful, as always,” Portia conceded after they hugged. “But you rather look like you have not slept! Are you feeling ill? Did something happen? Maddy and Cathy told me you would go to the gaming hell to find Papa.”

Selina pulled away from the hug. Her sister was still watching her warily, trying to read her mind. It was true. She had not slept, but it was not because of the incident at the gaming hell. Every time she closed her eyes in her bedroom, she saw her husband. She could even feel the press of his heavy body against her. And she was not even trying to erase the thoughts; she embraced them. She could still feel his sharp bite on her neck and the kiss that seemed to drown her being.

It was clear to both of them that she had kissed him back. Her own body had betrayed her. Her fingers had clutched at his waistcoat, and she had opened her lips for him. Then, he had mocked her desperation by reminding her that she was not the sort of woman a man would stay for. She had not let herself spill a single tear for him, though. She would not.

“I… I am not ill, and nothing happened at the gaming hell,” Selina lied, her voice sounding whiny even to herself. She then cleared her throat and asked, “Where are Grandmama and Grandpapa?”

“In the sitting room,” Portia replied. “Grandpapa is reading the gazette, while Grandmama seems to have been pacing back and forth since breakfast.”