Page 24 of A Duchess Untouched

Matthew tried not to groan as her back and buttocks pressed against him. Her body’s heat seemed to radiate through her dress, and the scent of lavender wafted from her hair, filling his lungs as her presence seemed to fill his mind at every waking hour.

“Am I doing it correctly now, Your Grace?”

“I… Keep your elbow straight,” he managed to say. He focused his mind on undesirable things like Harrison’s face, so that he would not get hard and humiliate himself.

“I am not sure I will manage to hit the target without your help,” she admitted.

“You will be fine,” Matthew reassured her. “You are already handling the pistol well. Do you see that? You are holding it with one hand despite its weight. Now, focus on the line of sight.”

His hands tightened over hers, guiding the barrel up until it lined up with the target. She shifted her weight, struggling to keep hold of the heavy pistol, and in doing so pressed her buttocks against him harder.

Matthew could not take it any longer. Her perfectly shaped buttocks pressing backward against him was so shamelessly intimate that he became rock hard in a matter of seconds, pressing through his breeches against the skirts of her dress.

The Duke expected Selina to pull away or scream. If she had noticed, she did not say anything. Instead, she shivered a little and breathed out, “Oh, Your Grace, this is so hard. It is much harder than I thought.”

At that moment, Matthew looked down at her, wondering whether his own wife was playing a game with him. There was no way she was not feeling his now painful erection pressing against her. Did she intend this as a pun to coax him? Did she move like that deliberately to elicit a reaction from him? Did she know she had that kind of power over his body?

As he looked down at her, though, he could see her focus still on the target. There was a sheen of perspiration on her temples, coming from the sheer determination to learn how to take her shot. Her expression was otherwise completely innocent.

I must be losing my mind.

Selina was far too innocent and sheltered to know such things. She could not possibly know what kind of effect she had or how she had managed to make him rock hard simply by shifting against him.

“Focus on the post,” he reminded her, or rather, he reminded himself. His voice sounded thick to him as he ground down his feeling of suppressed passion. Could she hear the way he struggled with his breath?

“I am very focused on the right spot,” said Selina innocently as she rubbed herself against him once more.

Matthew could not take this anymore. He let his hand slide up from her waist to her neck. He tilted her head up so that she could meet his eyes.

“You should stop moving like that,” he growled against her cheek. “Unless you want me to forget where we are.”

Selina whimpered, her pulse racing against his thumb.

“I…”

“Selina! Your Grace! There you are!”

Harleigh’s booming voice was completely unwelcome in that part of the gardens. It jerked Selina back into a ramrod-straight position, and Matthew took a few steps back.

The pistol fired.

Selina had pulled the trigger, startled by her father’s intrusion. They were soon enveloped in the smell of gunpowder. Matthew looked ahead and saw that she had perfectly managed to hit the mark, splinters flying from the battered target.

Quinten froze, his jaw dropping open. He wore a wide grin and held a half-eaten peach.

“Selina, have you seen Her Grace? I believe she is still cross with me…” he continued in the same loud voice, without pausing from his first outburst.

“I have not seen Her Grace, Papa,” Selina declared, finally turning to her father as she lowered the pistol. “As you can see, my husband is teaching me to fire a pistol.”

“Ah,” Harleigh chuckled as he began to retreat toward the hedges. “I merely wished to express my apologies about what happened during dinner. I shall seek her elsewhere.”

Maximus began barking at Harleigh, and without another word, her father half-ran past the hedges. Meanwhile, Matthew continued to watch the woman in front of him, shocked. His eyes scanned the splinters on the target and noted how Selina was holding the pistol more gracefully. He realized that his wife had done nothing but pretend this whole time.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” he asked.

Selina’s cheeks flushed before paling again. Matthew did not know what to think. Did it mean his wife could fool him if she wanted to? Her large eyes were filled with what seemed like a blend of guilt and innocence.

“My grandpapa,” she confessed, bowing her head to avoid his gaze. “He taught me when I was a little girl. He believed that a lady should know how to defend herself and was glad that at least one of us had shown some interest in learning.”