Dare to Love a Duke Read online

  Passion, desire, and love itself—he’d learn to live without them.

  He cast a surreptitious look at Lucia. What would it be like to be forever joined with a woman like her? A woman of fire, who challenged him and demanded a place for herself at the world’s table?

  The thought made his heart pound.

  No point in indulging such fantasies. Even if she could somehow allow herself to love and be loved, they were divided forever by the structures of society, ridiculous as they were.

  “An exalted view,” she said, waving toward the skyline as it stretched up toward the dark sky.

  Lights burned on the street and in windows, creating a luminous hillscape.

  “From up here,” Tom said thoughtfully, “I’ve noticed things that I have never noticed before. The way the secondhand clothing peddlers’ voices rise and fall as they walk the streets. The clatter of the tinkers’ tools. Footmen stopping in their errands to flirt with maids. In Mayfair, I’m too ensnared in my own concerns to notice the pulse of life, but I can feel it here.”

  He lay back fully, his gaze cast skyward.

  “I came to this place,” he said quietly, “to the club, because there’s a man of great power pushing me into a partnership I don’t want. It violates my principles—such as they are. I’ve already compromised myself once for him, and the more I do it, the more he’ll demand of me.”

  “Then refuse him. You’re a duke. Surely you have more power than he does.”

  The scrape of a laugh escaped Tom to hear such a complex relationship reduced to a simple yes or no. “He’s a duke, too, with a greater sphere of influence than I. And if I cross him, or turn away from whatever he offers . . . he will hurt people I care about.”

  “The debate, then, is between what your heart wants and what is best for those you love.” She rested her chin on her knees. “A tangle.”

  “It is,” he said wryly, “and a damned one at that.”

  For a moment, they were silent. Then she murmured, “In the deepest part of yourself, what do you want? Not for anyone else. Just you.”

  “I want . . .” He searched within himself, finding those dusty unused corners of his heart that ached for something beyond his own gratification. Oh, nothing significant. Only the minor conundrum of the meaning of life and existence. When had he given that any thought? When had he lived beyond one moment, and the next, and the next?

  “I want to be a good man,” he said at last. The simplicity of his words and the need they expressed startled him. And yet it felt right that beneath all the complications and alliances and navigations, underneath all that, was the core desire to do good. To be the best man he could, hurting as few as he could, helping as many as he could.

  His time here at the Orchid Club had shown him what it meant to join with others for the greater good. He’d toiled and sweat and laughed and cared, wearing down the veneer of polish that a lifetime of privilege had slathered on him. Everyone had a story, everyone lived their lives and—for the most part—did their best given the limitations of their circumstances.

  He’d been bloody lucky to be born a duke’s heir. The least he could do was use his accidental power to raise others up.

  A thought seared him hotly and permanently as if he’d been branded. He could almost smell his own burned flesh.

  He had to stand against Brookhurst and everything the man stood for. He’d reject the offer to invest in the Midlands Canal Company. Vote according to his conscience, not the demands of others—especially not the duke. Their fraternity must end and, with it, the generations of collaboration.

  And what of Maeve? What of her and Lord Stacey?

  God help him—he had to tell her that his days as the Duke of Brookhurst’s eager collaborator were over. Either she would understand and forgive him . . . or she wouldn’t. Life without his beloved little bird stretched before him, barren and bleak. Her wit and laughter and kindness would be gone from his life forever. How would he endure it?

  Because, if he was half the man Maeve believed him to be, he had to make this decision.

  Surges of energy filled him, at the same time a yawning fear opened in his belly. He was both invigorated and terrified, and it was only then that he realized one could feel these two emotions at the same time.

  He realized that he’d fallen silent for a long while, and finally spoke. “I can feel myself changing—the way I used to lie in bed and ache because my body was growing. And it hurts now as it did then. I . . . want to do the right thing, but it’s not so simple. Nothing is simple.”

  She was silent for some time, and then his pulse raced as she leaned close, her spiced floral scent surrounding him. Her face hovered inches from his, and her eyes were profound and searching.

  He held himself very still. Waiting. Hoping.

  She kissed him. It was soft, verging on tentative, as if she did not quite trust herself or this thing between them that could not be suppressed or stopped, no matter what they wished.

  When he did not move, she pulled back. “You don’t want me anymore.”

  “Love,” he said on a growl, “I want you so much I’m drowning in it. But, I’m your employer. The power here is all mine, and that’s not right.”

  “What about what I want?” she demanded hotly. “What if I want you.”

  He groaned. “How you tempt me.”

  “Whatever happens between us,” she said, “it has nothing to do with the club—it’s about me as a woman and you as a man.” She cupped a hand around his jaw and he instinctively stroked his skin against hers. Her breathing hitched, but she did not look away. “Understand this. I don’t want or need saving. My life is not perfect, but it’s mine, and I’ll find my way. On my own.”

  “I understand.” He threaded his hands into her hair, and at the slightest urging, she brought her mouth to his.

  The kiss was long and fevered and shot liquid fire through his body. Only now he realized that each moment without her had been a torment. But he wouldn’t waste this chance with her. He stroked his tongue into her mouth and rumbled when her own tongue lapped against his.

  “Christ above,” he said on a rasp, “but I want you. Need you. Can I come to you tonight, when the house is asleep? Can I show you just how much I hunger for you?”

  “Let me come to you,” she whispered. “I don’t want to keep Kitty and Elspeth awake, and I’ve a feeling we’re going to be quite noisy.”

  With that, she slipped away. The door to the roof opened and closed. She was gone so suddenly, he half believed the whole encounter had been a dream. Yet the taste of her on his lips proved that it had been real, as real as the desire between them.

  He was alone again, splayed atop the roof as though he’d fallen there from a passing cloud. He was stunned, too, as if he’d dropped from the sky.

  But through force of will, he collected himself and brought his senses back into full awareness. Because, for as long as he could, he was determined to devour each moment with her.

  Supper was a delightful torment.

  Tom sat in the kitchen with Lucia, Elspeth, Kitty—and her baby—dining on pigeon pie and trading stories about the most outrageous things they’d ever seen within London’s city limits—not including acts performed within the club’s walls.

  “Once,” Elspeth said, “I saw a cat sitting atop a dog, who rode on a horse’s back.”

  “Ah, you’ve lived the life of an innocent,” Kitty replied, “but I love you, regardless.”

  Elspeth batted her lashes in response.

  “In Cheapside,” Kitty said, “I saw a cup-shot bloke attempting to suck his own cock.”

  “Was he successful?” Tom asked, intrigued. “To know that a man can do that to himself opens up many possibilities.”

  Kitty snickered. “He was successful enough.”

  “As they say,” he said sagely, “even bad fellatio is time well spent.”

  Kitty rolled her eyes before turning to Lucia. “Now you.”

  Luc
ia tapped her finger on her chin in thought before her expression brightened. “I saw a fellow, nude below the waist, his uccello flopping everywhere as he ran through Shoreditch. And a woman, her bare zizze bouncing as she chased after him.”

  “He must have had something she wanted,” Elspeth said with a chuckle.

  “That item is inexpensive and quite easy to obtain,” Lucia answered.

  Tom pressed a hand to his heart. “You wound my sex, madam!”

  “An injury which will heal quickly,” she said with a saucy wink. “And what of you? What outrageous display have you seen?”

  “I cannot name names, of course,” he said in a low voice, as if someone might be listening, “but at a rout I witnessed a gent of very esteemed, aristocratic lineage pissing out a window and directly into an elderly lad’s tricorne.”

  Though he’d been witness to and participant in many, many sexual acts, he had a feeling that these women wouldn’t find any of them particularly outrageous.

  Lucia shook her head. “A fashion critic.” She reached over to take hold of Liam’s chubby foot as he sat on Kitty’s lap. “What about you, piccolo? Tell us about the wonders you’ve seen.”

  Being a baby, Liam had nothing to contribute to the discussion except gurgling.

  Tom’s cheeks ached from smiling, and yet, for as much as he enjoyed the conversation, his whole body burned in anticipation of what was to come. His gaze returned to Lucia as she sat opposite him.

  Her face was alight as she continued to jest with her friends, and her hands danced through the air as she talked, and she was so lovely he could barely keep from lunging for her.

  Her gaze caught his and held for just a moment too long . . . It was a wonder that the food on the table wasn’t charred from the heat that rose up between them. The minx knew it, too.

  After using her fingers to pop a morsel of piecrust into her mouth, she very slowly and with deliberation licked her fingers. One at a time. Her tongue darted out to run along each finger. She didn’t even look at him as she did so, but it didn’t matter.

  Tom’s cockstand felt as though it could have knocked the table over. Thank God he was sitting, a napkin spread across his lap. He liked Elspeth and Kitty, and it seemed somewhat impolite to sport a massive erection in front of newly made friends and an infant.

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Elspeth threw her hands into the air. “If you two are going to carry on in this fashion, just go upstairs already.”

  “We’ll do the washing up,” Kitty added with a smirk.

  Lucia was already on her feet. Never before had Tom wanted to drop to his knees and give thanks. After taking a deep breath, willing his body’s response to calm, he stood.

  “Much appreciated,” he said gratefully. He reached for Lucia’s hand and she clasped his. Heat from her flesh seared into his as they moved quickly out of the kitchen.

  Wordlessly, they ascended up and up into the very top of the house. Anticipation was a hard beat in his veins, and he struggled not to take the stairs two at a time, as he had when he was young and bounding around with the unbridled enthusiasm of youth. But he was a man now, his needs a man’s needs. And he needed her.

  Judging by the way her breath sped and the thrum of her pulse in her neck, she needed him with the same intensity.

  They reached the door to his room. They still had not kissed, but if his mouth touched hers, he’d have to have her right there and then, wherever they stood. So he didn’t kiss her, and instead he reached past her to open the door and wave her inside.

  She entered, stepping into the darkness, and he followed, closing the door behind him.

  The moment he came into the room, he was thrust back against the door by Lucia’s lush form. She kissed him fiercely, and electric sensation hurtled through him when her fingers wove into his hair and angled his head down.

  Desire shot its bright blaze through him. Growling, he kissed her back, devouring her with all his pent-up hunger. Her tongue stroked against his. Flames licked up his groin, and his cock was hard and demanding as it strained against the front of his breeches. He cupped his hands around her arse, fitting her against him. Even through the layers of clothing, her heat saturated his flesh. As their hips curved into each other, she moaned into his mouth and he reveled in the sound of her wild, ungovernable need.

  She writhed against him, sleek and aflame. He brought one of his hands up, tracing over the curve of her hip, the dip in her waist, and higher, skimming along her torso until he cupped her breast. The weight of it in his hand was the answer to questions he hadn’t realized he had asked. Through the cotton of her gown, he caressed the tip of her breast until it formed a tight point. Gently, he pinched, and a throaty sound escaped her.

  “Want you,” she said, her words taut with hunger.

  “Can’t be as much as I want you.”

  He felt her smile against his mouth.

  “Didn’t know we were in competition.”

  “We’ll make it a friendly competition,” he said between kisses. “Who can give the other more pleasure?”

  He rubbed her nipple and was rewarded with her gasp.

  “What does the victor get?” she asked breathlessly.

  “In this contest,” he said as he trailed his lips along her neck, “everyone wins.”

  She pulled back just enough to say huskily, “I take my competitions very seriously.”

  “As do I.” He licked her collarbone, adoring the musk of her skin. “I will be a gentleman and let the opening salvo be yours.”

  Her eyes gleamed. “Prepare yourself.” She reached for the fall of his breeches. “For days, I’ve wanted to feel your cock in my hand.”

  If he hadn’t been achingly stiff before, now he was hard and burning as an iron. He released his grip on her, and growled when she made short work of the buttons. He nearly shouted when her warm fingers curled around his cock.

  “I remembered that you didn’t wear drawers,” she said with a smile in her voice. And then she exhaled with appreciation as she stroked him.

  He lost his ability to think. He lost everything but the feel of her pumping her hand up and down his shaft. Heat gathered low on his spine as his hips moved to meet her touch.

  Tom barely noticed that her other hand was undoing the folds of his neckcloth, but he jolted with pleasure when she lightly bit the side of his bared throat.

  “Fuck, yes,” he said on a groan. She was everything he needed. All that he wanted. She gave and took with fierce abandon. Though he prided himself on his stamina, when it came to her, arousal launched him toward a speedy climax. “I’m about to spend.”

  She pulled back slightly but did not release his cock. “Not yet.”

  His sight glazed with lust, he watched as she slid down his body. With her free hand, she undid the buttons of his waistcoat and stroked him through his lawn shirt. Little daggers of sensation pierced him wherever she touched. His breath caught when she sank onto her knees before him.

  Her gaze fixed on his. He couldn’t look away to save his life. A knowing smile curved her lips as she licked around the crown of his cock.

  Sparks cascaded down his spine. He thought he would explode when she lowered her head to take him into her mouth.

  “Ah, love,” he growled. “That’s perfect.”

  She made a little hum of acknowledgment, and it reverberated through him. He took huge, gulping breaths as she pumped him between her lips, her hand stroking the base of his cock. Her mouth was hot and wet and faultless as she sucked and licked. Faint light from outside filtered through the curtained window, allowing him to see the low back of her dress and how it exposed the muscles shifting between her shoulder blades.

  He was pinioned in place by pleasure, unable to do more than watch her. One of his hands pressed against the door, and he brought the other up to lightly curve along the back of her head. She reached up and curled her fingers around his, tightening his grasp on her.

  “You want me to fuck your mouth?” H
is voice was a deep bass, hardly human.

  She nodded, never taking her lips from him or her gaze from his.

  He needed no further encouragement. Holding her head in place, his hips moved faster. He watched with dazed fascination as his cock slid in and out of her mouth, his skin gleaming in the half-light. When her eyes went heavy-lidded with pleasure, he knew he was lost.

  “Going to come,” he managed to gasp.

  She didn’t pull away. The suction of her lips increased and she took him even deeper.

  His climax leveled him, streaking through his entire body with the force of cannon fire. More sensation bloomed as she swallowed him down.

  Only after the very last pulse tore through him did she move back. She did so with a smile, licking her lips and making sounds of gratification.

  Though his bones felt made of India rubber, he managed to help her stand.

  “I win tonight’s round,” she said huskily.

  He pulled off his clothing, scattering it everywhere. “The night’s not over.”

  She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t protest as he led her to the bed and lowered her to sit on the edge. When she made room for him to sit beside her, he shook his head and knelt before her. Gently, he placed his hands on her knees and urged them apart.

  The stunned expression on her face turned wicked.

  “Shall I keep going?” he asked.

  “I’d perish if you didn’t.”

  A satisfied smile curved his mouth. “We don’t want anyone perishing.”

  He collected handfuls of her skirts, uncovering her legs. As inch by inch of her was revealed, he kissed her. Ankle, calf, knee. The heat of her skin burned through her stockings. He continued to go higher.

  To his delight, her smooth bare thighs appeared over the tops of her garters. Again, she hadn’t worn drawers. He wasn’t the only one who’d anticipated this night.

  Tom licked the skin of her inner thigh, then inhaled deeply as he scented her arousal. When he bared her quim, he made a sound he’d never heard himself make before, more suited to a wild creature than a civilized man.