Page 78 of To Steal a Duchess

His smirk was dangerous as he struck a match to light a lantern. “I would be a keeper. I would give up my dukedom. You would still be my wife, and Gideon would be a marquess I would wonder why I was friends with. Why I would be honored, I mean. But it would all happen because I would remain in love with what John Reed taught me.”

“You would be true to your heart,” Eloise said.

Dorian only nodded. “The sea calls me. And, you, my dear duchess, are my siren, are you not?”

“That is for you to say.”

“John once told me, when I was young, a mere adolescent, that I would one day meet a woman that my heart would fight against but I would not be able to resist. That is why I call you my siren. Because I cannot resist you, even when I crave control.”

Eloise sidled closer. “What do you crave more?” Her words felt bold as she walked Dorian back against one of the counters. “Control, or me?”

His hands fell to her hips. “Is that even a question?”

“Yes.” The answer was one she breathed onto his mouth. “Yes. Tell me.”

“I crave you, Duchess.”

She shook her head, selfishly wanting her name said, and Dorian’s head tilted.

“I crave you, Eloise. Is that what you wish to hear?”

“Is that the truth?”

“I have never said anything truer in my life.”

And then he was turning her around, pressing her body into the counter, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

“And you?” he asked against her skin. “What do you crave?”

“You.”

She did not leave him waiting. She was tired of waiting, of wanting. She wanted her husband; she wanted Dorian. She wanted the unstripped part of him he had never let her see—the man who could let go.

He had told her plenty, so now it was her turn. “Let go, Dorian.” She whispered the plea onto his collarbone, pushing his collar aside. “Let go, and let yourself have me.”

He did not pull back as he murmured, “You do not know what you are asking for.”

“I am asking for you to stop having that tight rein of yours on control.”

“Eloise—”

“Let go, Dorian. Give yourself something, even if it is only me.”

He pulled back slightly, only enough to meet her eyes. “Only? You are more than I could have ever wanted, or thought of, or hoped for.”

“Then give in.”

Her mouth tipped up to his, but it was Dorian who met her lips in a blinding, hot kiss. She opened to him immediately, thinking of how that very mouth had driven her to pleasure. Her fingers carded through his hair, and they raked down his neck, making him shudder, before she pushed his fine coat off his shoulders.

It fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

His cravat went next, falling from her fingers in a soft hush.

“I can do it myself,” he murmured against her mouth, barely daring to break their kiss.

“I know,” she answered softly, “but I want to do it.”

He nodded against the side of her face as he slid his fingers into her hair, pulling pins loose. Her own fingers found his shirt buttons, undoing them one by one, as his moved down to her gown.