Or so he insisted.
It struck her then that for all his confidence, the Duke of Stone was a stranger to himself. He did not know his own feelings. Perhaps he’d never been allowed to.
In that moment, she resolved to no longer contemplate whether he might love her or not. She would not suffer in this marriage.
She couldn’t do that to herself. There was no questioning it, and so she was going to have to savor everything that she could get, every moment of his admiration.
And she would never be able to tell him the truth. Because it was the very last thing he’d ever wish to hear.
Chapter Twenty-Four
James stared at Jack and realized he could have her out of her silk ball gown without consequence. The thought crashed through him, sending a wave of lust through him that was so powerful he had no desire left to think. He simply wished to act.
She was perfection standing in his chamber in that pale, thin gown that kissed her body the way he wanted to with his mouth.
She was his now. He did not have to hold on to his honor any longer. And thank God, because his honor was hanging by a thread.
She belonged to him.
His hands curled, hungry to trace her every curve and contour.
And before he could allow himself to hesitate, he crossed to her and took her into his arms. The feel of her body under his hands was heaven. As he pulled her into an embrace, the feel of her curves aligned with his hard angles and deepened his hunger for her. This was the greatest benefit of the turmoil that had occurred this night, and he would not deny them it.
He knew how much she wanted him, too, from the way she had reveled in their kiss in this chamber not so very long ago.
Splaying his hands over her back, he allowed them to roam, tracing from her shoulder blades, down her ribcage, to the curve of her waist. He groaned as he palmed her buttocks, his cock hard for her.
She gasped as he held her to him so that not a breath remained between them as he angled her hips against his shaft. Her head tilted back and her thick hair began to spill out of her coiffure, tumbling against her shoulder as she gazed up at him.
Desire heated those orbs, and he was nearly undone by the hunger that equaled his own in their depths.
“I want you,” he declared, his voice a low rumble. And he did. By God, he wanted every inch of her. To memorize every bit of her with his mouth, his fingertips. He would not be satisfied until he had mapped every plane, every curve, every point of desire.
“Then have me,” she replied, matching his passion as she drove her fingertips into his hair at the nape of his neck.
And in the tone of those words, he knew that she felt as he did.
There was no turning back now. They could not. If they were going to be in this marriage, they might as well take advantage of the passion between them and surrender to each other what they both wanted so very much.
James lowered his mouth to hers, taking it in a fiery kiss. He did not hold back now. There was no reason to.
Over and over, he angled his mouth over hers, seducing her until she was holding onto him as if she might shatter apart if she let go.
Her head tilted to match his kisses.
Her lips parted, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth, teasing with it the way he longed to tease between her thighs.
Each kiss was a claiming of souls, a proclamation of desire. For both had been forced to hold back and deny themselves when all they had wished was to give in.
Ruled by need, he seized her skirts and did not hesitate as he slid them up her thighs, then her hips, baring her lush buttocks to him.
He savored the feel of those rounded curves underneath his hands and then without another thought, he pulled at her gown.
She let out a half laugh of amazement as the fabric ripped. Her eyes widened as she gazed up at him, amazed.
“Whatever are you doing?” she asked.
“I cannot wait another moment to see you,” he confessed before his lips curved in a smile. “I promise I shall buy you another one.”