Page 62 of In Service to the Duke

The delicious scent rolling off of him makes me crumble into the straw. Hunger races through me, but not like any form I’ve felt before. I want Blackport. I crave him. My mind is almost more consumed with him than it is with the mess below me.

With a gentleness I don’t expect considering our most recent interaction, he turns me over, so my back is against the soft hay. Somehow, it’s no longer the rough, itchy pile I’d been working on. It molds around my body, hugging my curves as if it were made for me, designed for this.

But how is that possible? I blink up at Blackport. Perhaps he knows something. His eyes are nearly black as he peers down at me, making me squirm beneath him.

If he knows the secret to my reactions, he says nothing. Instead, he reaches out, gliding his fingers down my neck for a moment before curling them around, choking me.

It’s not enough to cut off air, but it is enough for my brain to come back to the present. What was I even doing? It no longer makes sense to me. All I can think about is Blackport’s heat washing over me.

“Please, Your Grace,” I manage to croak out, arching up into him. I’m not sure why I do it. My body seems to know and understand things far beyond my current knowledge. “I- Everything hurts.”

“I know, sweetling,” he growls, tightening his grip around my neck. “And it’s going to hurt a lot more before I get done with you.”

When he lets me go, I sink back against the straw, my mind reeling. The implications of his words are not lost on me. Does he plan to cause me harm for the sins of my mother? I can’t bear the thought.

“Don’t do this,” I whimper, turning back around to resume my task. “Please, it’s not what you think. I didn’t-”

He cuts me off by wrapping his hand around my throat again as he curls his arm around my waist, hauling me back against him. I feel so small against his chest. It heaves against me, matching the rapid staccato of my own frantic breathing. Heat infuses my body, turning me molten in his arms.

“I am not here to be your judge at this moment, Miss Gillet. I have a duty to keep you safe, and that’s what I intend to do. Once your heat breaks, then we will discuss matters.”

My heat. Is that what this is? Mother never told me what happens during this time, but I do know it’s scandalous. I can’t be going into heat. I took precautions.

For a moment, my brain and lips finally catch up. “No,” I cry out, twisting about in his grasp. “No, no, no, no, no, no. It’s impossible. I took the pills. Ask the butler.”

Once more, he pushes me down against the hay, forcing me to close my mouth so it’s not filled with straw. As I go limp, he pulls me up again until my back grazes his chest. Dizzying heat shatters through me as his breath scrapes his body against mine.

With a soft growl, he tightens his hand until I can no longer breathe. My vision wavers a moment, dipping between hazy and blackness. I should be frightened, terrified, and yet my body feels safe and secure in his arms. Somewhere deep down, I know he won’t injure me.

The things he does to my body may hurt, but he’s never gone so far as to cause me any permanent harm. Even though I can feel the anger swirling off of him, I feel that control and restraint burning just as hotly underneath. Sagging forward, I let the darkness overtake me.

However, as I go limp again, he releases my throat, allowing my lungs to fill again with precious air. All too soon, he’s choking me again, depriving me of oxygen, only to grant it when he chooses to. I throb between my thighs, the ache becoming more pronounced with each bit of deprivation.

Wetness coats my inner thighs in the most humiliating manner, but I cannot think about that right now. All I want is him to touch me like he did that first time we met. I want him to inspect the area which aches for him. Whimpering, I thrust my hips backward, grinding against him in need.

“I know what you want, little governess,” he rasps against my ear, his scalding breath sending shards of agony splintering over my skin. “But you haven’t earned that pleasure yet. Perhaps I’ll tease you, get you to the point of breaking, then stopping, only to do it all over again.”

His hand slides under my skirt, brushing my inner thighs as he travels up to the place where I need him the most. Just one graze of his fingertips against that throbbing, aching bundle of nerves makes my body clench as more of that maddening wetness slickens his movements.

“This- this is improper,” I whisper, both horrified and delirious all at once.

“Impropriety left the moment you contrived to trap me. You wanted me so desperately, Miss Gillet. Well, now you have me. And God help you for it.”

He grinds against that spot, stroking back and forth. Keening wails pour from my lips, but all too soon, his other hand rises to cover them, keeping the sounds inside.

“Oh no, little governess. I can’t have everyone knowing what it is we’re doing out here. Be a good girl for me, and I might let you come before taking you inside. Can you be quiet for me? Let’s try, shall we? Just like in my study. Only this time, your sound can carry far easier than it can enclosed by four walls.”

When he pulls his hand away, my jaw drops, confusion swirling through me as I crane my neck around to look up at him. I note the dark amusement glittering in his eyes, turning them a deadly obsidian. With a smirk, he puts his finger over his lips, urging me to be quiet.

But can I obey him? Truly?

Again, he turns me around and places me on my back, his hands roving over my body, burning me with each illicit touch. The need to cry out vibrates through my throat, but I keep my lips shut. Now, more than ever, I want to please him, to obey him, if only to find the relief he so cruelly taunts me with.

Sinking down onto his knees, he graces me with one of those devastating smirks which makes my insides clench. With practiced ease, he slides my skirts up until my lower half is bare to his hungry gaze. His head dips down, disappearing between my thighs.

And soon, an impossible heat fans against my mound. His tongue lashes at me with an aching precision which leaves me wanting. I pant as my body bows up, twisting under the onslaught of his attentions. But I don’t dare make a sound. I’ve betrayed his trust enough already.

Besides, the need to come apart at his hands and mouth is far more enticing than risking his ire by alerting others to our actions. I jam my fist against my lips to keep my sounds quiet as he slides his thumbs along my tender skin, opening me up to his wicked tongue. From in between my thighs, he looks up at me, his eyes black with just a hint of a blue ring surrounding the irises as he continues to pleasure me.