A Bluestocking for the Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel (The Hale Sisters Book 1)
A Bluestocking for the Duke: Chapter 16

Emma gasped, wrapping her arms around Colin’s neck and kissing him. He laughed softly against her lips. The carriage went over a bump in the cobblestone road, jolting them. Emma drew back from him, catching her breath.

She thought back to when she and he regarded each other as strangers at breakfast. She thought about everything. Even then, he’d looked at her in a way that set her ablaze. She thought he was pompous, cavalier, and sullen. He wasn’t the sort of man she’d pictured she’d fall in love with.

In her mind, she never pictured a man that challenged her because she had never expected to challenge him. Growing pains were intense. They made you ache and left you sore. Colin and Emma had grown through falling in love. It was unpleasant at times, but it seemed they were better off for it. They had both learned to let their defenses down.

‘Colin,’ she whispered, running her hand across his jaw. ‘I adore you.’

‘Come here.’ He wrapped his hands around her waist and tugged her towards him. ‘Come here.’

Emma complied, allowing him to guide her onto his lap, straddling him with her thighs, the beautiful sky-blue dress she wore that evening bunched around their hips. She looked down at him, smiling.

Colin wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to his body. His lips met with her neck, softly kissing the peachy skin until her neck arched, and she sighed into the empty carriage. The cart jostled, the wooden wheels rolling over the uneven cobblestone streets. The London townhouse was nearby, but neither of them had been able to wait. By the time the carriage door closed, they were pressed against each other, seeking out all the affection and touch they had starved themselves of.

Colin pulled back for a breath. He looked up at Emma. He laughed again.

‘What?’ She pressed her nose against his temple, taunting him with a toothy smile.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ he said. ‘So, so gorgeous.’ He tilted his head up, and she took him back into a kiss. Slowly she felt that all too familiar ache. He had been able to satisfy her so far, and it had never been enough. She rolled her hips against him to soothe her own neediness. He exhaled sharply, leaning his head back.

‘Does that feel…good?’ she asked.

He groaned softly, placing his hands on her hips. Emma leaned down and pressed her lips to his neck. The way his breath quickened and he bit back his grunts made her double her efforts. She sucked at the tan skin on his neck, trailing her mouth across every valley. She took a breath, leaning her head in the crook of his neck. He held her close to him, their chests rising and falling together.

‘Are you sure…’ He paused, still short of breath. ‘You are sure you want this?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Even on our wedding night, I was sure, I just…’ She trailed off, listening to the sound of his heart beating for her.

‘Tell me.’ His voice was gentle, and she nestled further into him.

‘Listening to everyone else and myself at the same time is so distracting,’ she said. ‘I wish you and I could exist in a bubble where there was nothing but us. Just for a day. Just two.’

‘Here we are,’ he said. He leaned to the side to access his pocket. He pulled out his watch and pushed the button. The lid swung open.

‘For…five more minutes?’ he guessed.

Emma pressed her mouth against his, and he kissed her back, not bothering to put the watch back in his pocket. Every time the carriage jostled, it swung out the chain, rhythmically hitting the small of her back as she savored the taste of him. Being so close to him made her feel as moldable as clay. She felt weak in her knees, in her arms, and dizzy in her head. A thorned warmth rolled across her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. Time could have stopped, freezing them in the privacy of the carriage. She could have carried on, kissing him forever, loving him, and loving the way he felt as he adored her.

“I am jesting. How about we stay in London for a few days? We can make a proper honeymoon out of it,” he whispered.

She nodded, smiling. “Sounds perfect.”

The carriage came to a stop. Emma slid off Colin’s lap onto the seat beside her. She straightened out his hair and the collar of his jacket. As soon as they were presentable again, the door opened, and a butler helped them down onto the street.

The townhouse was one of the nicer ones in London. The outside was clean. It was skinny yet three stories tall. A flickering candle illuminated the stoop. It was rather late in the evening, and the entire street was quiet.

Emma wrapped her hand around Colin’s elbow, and he guided her up the steps. Emma could feel her heart beating wildly. She’d been waiting for some time for this. She loved Colin. She wanted to be his, however he wanted her.

“Mm!” Emma shouted as Colin pushed her against the banister lightly. He pinned her there, kissing her desperately as if he’d been just as starved as she was for this moment.

Emma reached up and worked her fingers down the buttons of his coat. He helped her, lips still connected. She pushed the jacket off his shoulder, and it fell in a pile at their feet. They stopped, looking at it and smiling excitedly.

“Hike your dress up,” he said.

Emma did as he asked, pulling it up around her hips. He grabbed her waist, and she jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around him. She pressed her hands to his cheeks and kissed him. Fingers pressed into the soft skin of her rear, he slowly began carrying her up the staircase.

She had been waiting for a moment like this. Admittedly, she’d had him, in her mind, in so many different ways. She was still learning, but she knew where she wanted him to put his lips and fingers. She knew she wanted him to hold her down, sweep her up, and lay her on her stomach. She wanted everything—whatever he could give her.

At the landing, he set her down, and turned her so that she was pressed against the cold wall, back turned to him. He started at the top of her dress, unbuttoning each closure slowly as he sucked at the soft skin on her neck. She moaned into the wall. It was strange how some things just felt like instinct. She hadn’t thought to rub her backside against him, nor had she known it would make him curse under his breath. She just did and savored the feeling. The dress fell off her, and she shivered as the chilly air nipped at her skin. The house wasn’t very warm at all.

When Colin let go of her, she turned around. His fingers shook as he unbuttoned his waistcoat and pulled his cravat off. He looked impatient, frustrated that every piece of clothing on him was holding him back. After he was done, he remained in his white linen shirt. He’d had enough of waiting. He wrapped his arms around Emma’s waist and kissed her, his fingers gliding up and tugging at the laces of her corset, loosening them until the stays fell off and onto the floor. He leaned down, grabbed her by the waist, and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

Emma shouted, giggling. She held on tight, and he carried her up the stairs. She heard the squeak of a door before they entered the darkness. Then all of a sudden, she fell through the dark before she hit the fluffy mattress. She lay there, smiling, feeling like she was somewhere in the sky, light as a feather, floating in the ether. She opened her eyes at the strike of a match. She sat up, watching Colin light a candle on the bedside table.

“I want to see you,” he said.

“See…me?”

“Of course,” he smiled. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Of course, I want to see you.”

Emma watched as he drew his shirt over his head, slowly revealing his muscled chest. She gasped softly, unrolling her stockings down over her knees and throwing them off the bed. Colin reached out, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her down on the mattress. She laughed, kicking her feet playfully. “You keep looking at me like that,” he said. “I think you do it on purpose now.”

“Admittedly,” she smiled. “I do.”

“Mhm,” he whispered, kissing her neck.

Emma’s eyes were open, staring at the light flicker against the ceiling. The words she’d wanted to say were caught in her throat. Once you said something, it became real. It had power over you. If she said it, it had every chance to sneak up on her, hurt her, and break her heart.

She’d never really felt like that. The desire sat assuredly at the top of her chest, and the silence gnawed away at her. She wanted to tell him. If she couldn’t tell him now, then when would she? She was nearly naked, and still the nervousness of being honest made her feel even more vulnerable.

But she trusted Colin. She was ready to take that risk. “I love you fiercely,” she whispered.

Colin pulled back and looked at her. She felt his shoulders and arms, his body hungry from her touch.

Colin had longed to hear those words. He had longed to say them. For every misunderstanding or argument they had, he had always wondered if they could have avoided any of it with honesty. “I love you too, Emma.” He kissed her again, feeling like she was impossibly far away. He wanted her closer. He wanted to feel every inch of her, to know what it was like to be her heart, to keep her warm, to keep her breathing, to be the very center of her.

She sighed as he slid a finger under the strap of her chemise and slipped it down over her shoulder, tugging until he revealed a breast. With his hand, he kneaded it. Emma bit her lip and squirmed under his touch.

In the garden, he knew he’d wanted Emma. It felt like so long ago. The way she relented with passion and the way that she stood on her own had stilled him. She had put him in his place and held him accountable. No one had ever done that. Colin had always felt like everyone around him was afraid to tell him no, as if he didn’t deserve to hear the word. He was always right. In his own home, when he was morose and disagreeable, his mother let it slide. She had accepted him to be the head of the household even when he was no one.

But Emma said no, a thousand times, and told him truly when she thought he was wrong. He loved that. He needed that. When he first met her, he imagined that this moment would be a cold, silent mutual agreement between bodies to conceive a child before they both retired to separate bedrooms, annoyed, unsatisfied, and unfulfilled. But something had changed. This was more than a momentary truce; this was the buildup of months of aching for one another.

He kissed her again, then helped her sit up so he could pull the chemise over her head.

Emma watched her chemise flutter onto the floor like a white butterfly. It landed, and she laid back down, feeling chilly on her bare skin. Colin groaned, tracing the curves of her body with his strong hands. He kissed her before his lips traveled down her body. He kissed her neck, her breasts, and down her stomach. This time, he didn’t have to ask. She parted her legs for him, anticipating the feeling of his mouth against her.

He slid in between them, teasing her thighs with his lips. She had adored every moment of this before. He had known exactly how to touch her, carefully gauging each moan and rock of her hips until he knew just what she liked. His hands swept up her legs, and she relaxed into the mattress. He slipped his hands under her backside, holding her gently by the rear. And then, with his eyes locked on hers, he leaned in, tongue out, and ran his mouth along her folds. She arched her back, moaning.

Some nights she had quelled the desire in her by touching herself the way he had loved her. It helped and certainly eased her yearning, but it never felt this good. When she was alone, it felt merely like maintenance—and what a cold, uninvolved way to describe it—but when she was with him, it felt moving and mind-bending.

She cried out, as loud as she pleased this time, as his tongue massaged the peak of her lips. She squirmed, but he just pulled her closer, digging the tips of his fingers into her skin. He continued without relenting as if loving her was giving him just as much pleasure. She gasped, reaching out and grabbing the bars of the headboard until her fingers ached. She rolled her hips, feeling the burning edge up into sharp need that spread through her body like a spark catching oxygen for the first time.

“That feels so good,” she cried out.

He did not stop to respond. He simply took her even closer and tasted her, using his mouth to suck on her bud before teasing her entrance. With every pass of his tongue, she felt the intensity increase, rising inside her body. She shouted, legs shaking as the feeling bloomed inside her. She squirmed so much that her head knocked against the headboard, but it didn’t hurt. All she could feel was the warmth radiating within her.

First, it began in her core, strong, intense, exploding. It spread, numbing her legs, blossoming in her stomach, and then up, up, lapping up to her neck like waves ebbing on the shore. Once the feeling racked across her scalp, there was nothing else. She shook, allowing the climax to hold her for as long as it wanted, and then she drifted back down.

He came back up to meet her, kissing her gently. She reached out, working the placket of his trousers. He smiled and rolled onto his back, maneuvering them off with a kick of his legs. He gave her a goofy smile, and she giggled, feeling his length between them.

He kneeled before her and took her legs in his hand. She watched apprehensively as he brought them over his shoulders. Then, he lowered himself until they were face to face, and her thighs were pressed up against her chest.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

She nodded, taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes, trying her best to relax. She felt nervous and yet excited all at the same time.

“Look at me,” he whispered. Emma opened her eyes. He reached between them. She gasped when she felt him against her, pushing at her entrance. She pressed her fingertips into his back, and he advanced. Her eyes widened, torn apart by the feeling. Her jaw fell open, and her breath hitched. He pushed deeper, and then, all she felt was bliss. He groaned softly, rocking back and forth against her. The feeling was hypnotic.

All of a sudden, she was nowhere but in the air, floating. No ego, no fear, nothing. It was just Emma and her duke joining together. He took it slow, kissing her with passion and tenderness. He broke away slowly after each, showering her in kiss after kiss. He grunted, his movements quickening. She whimpered, listening to the bed creak beneath them and the rain patter against the window.

“I love you,” he whispered between his groans.

“I love you…” she paused, calling out as another feeling began to build up inside her. “Too.” Her voice was soft and whimpering. The sensation was robbing her of the ability to make any coherent sound. She merely wanted him closer than ever. She slid her legs off of his shoulders. His eyes widened in surprise, but as soon as she wrapped them around his hips, he moaned, eyes rolling back. Emma saw nothing but flashes of light as he felt deeper than before, stroking a part of her that made her hands fall off his shoulders and tear at the duvet.

She cried out again and again, and then he reached between them with his hand and ran his finger in circles around her sensitive bud. She cried out even louder, legs shaking. He was losing his rhythm, each draw in and out of her sending visible shockwaves across his body. He grunted, thrusting over and over until both of them grasped at each other and cried out into the silent house.

Emma peaked, her body floating somewhere above all the noise, the heat having overwhelmed her a second time, only this feeling was more intense and lasted twice as long. She released his hips, her legs stretching out, shaking, toes curling in surrender. Colin released one final grunt before he collapsed against her chest. She wrapped her arms around him, and they lay together, soaking in the glow radiating off their bodies.

Some time passed, and by the time Emma rolled over, the candle was burnt halfway. She got out of bed, pulling Colin’s white shirt off the ground. She pulled it over her to keep out the chill. In the dim the room, she found her valise.

“What are you doing?” Colin whispered. He was still coming down from the feeling.

Emma pushed through the bag until she found her sketchbook. She grabbed it, followed by her charcoal bag, and crawled back onto the bed. Her cheeks were red. “I want to finish,” she said, flipping the notebook to the sketch page. He raised an eyebrow.

“Well?” he asked, sitting up. “Where’s my page?”

Emma tore a blank paper out of the book and handed it to him. She laid the charcoal out between them. For the next twenty minutes, they worked over the pages, thumbing the charcoal until the shading looked just right.

“Okay,” Emma whispered, staring at her finished drawing. “I’m done.”

Colin looked up, deflated. “Give me just a minute.” He looked back down, retracing a shape and adding some more detail. His tongue poked out of his mouth in conversation. When he finished, he shrugged as if it looked better than he’d expected. “Show me yours first,” he said.

She turned the drawing pad around, cheeks reddening slowly. Colin smiled, looking at the drawing. To Emma, it looked perfectly realistic. His eyes had so much depth, his smile—she was right, he did smile like that sometimes—and the strong, defined shape of his nose.

He drew back. “My God, Emma.”

“Is it…”

“It’s incredible.” He released a huff of air in gobsmacked amusement.

“Show me yours, then,” she said.

Colin took the drawing and gave it a once over. He said he had never drawn in charcoal before. “It is not that bad. For a first try, I am pleasantly surprised.” He turned the page around.

In an instant, Emma snorted, turning away. She laughed, falling flat onto the mattress in hysterics. “Why is my—my head! It’s twice the size of my body!” She went quiet, her body convulsing with laughter.

Colin turned the page back to him. “It is not nearly that bad,” he said. “You’re just being cruel.”

“I, you know, am so flattered that you tried, but…” She trailed off, laughing again, her back on the mattress. “My hair, Colin, it looks like straw.”

“Please. Spare me the ridicule, Your Grace.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, wiping the tears out of her eyes. “You just could use some practice.”

He laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re so talented. Truly. I cannot believe you did not tell me you could draw for so long.”

She smiled, pushing the sketchbook to the end of the bed. She sat up on her knees. With a finger, she traced a line along his lips, making him shudder. “Did I tell you?” she asked. “Sometimes, when I think too much, I will draw something. I will draw my family, the garden, or the views around London. And then, once I finish, I feel some clarity, some self-assuredness about whatever was on my mind.”

“That is why you drew me?” he asked.

Her finger stilled, and she nodded, leaning back away from him. “That is why I wanted to finish.”

He pulled her down against the sheets and laid beside her, wrapping her in her arms, body enveloping hers. His nose brushed her cheek, and he whispered to her. “Do you have me all figured out, then?”

“Colin,” she said. “I have an entire lifetime for that.” They lay there until the candle burnt out and the room went dark. Emma drifted to sleep, listening to Colin’s heart pound in his chest and the rain pitter against the windows and dribble down the glass.