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Chapter Eight

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Lucas stripped off his waistcoat and cravat, dropping them in a pile by his wardrobe. He pulled it open, looking for an old shirt and trousers to change into. He decided a late-night ride might help calm his fury. Dinner had been a trying affair. The tension rippling off him had made it impossible for him to enjoy the meal.

He was furious with his father and wanted to declare his frustrations, but Selina had pleaded with him not to cause any more strife. His father had convinced the entire staff to lie to him and Abigail about the condition of the road. When, in fact, travelers continued to use the road with no problem. On his way to his father’s room, Selina had confronted him, demanding what his intentions were concerning Abigail. He had been about to inform her to mind her own damn business when Duncan appeared, ready to defend his wife. Lucas had growled at their interference and took off to sulk.

During dinner, Abigail had ignored him once again but laughed joyously with his father, Duncan, and Selina. Duncan had tried to draw him into the conversation, but Lucas continued with his brooding. His father even had the gall to apologize to Abigail for his dishonesty. And she had accepted his apology gracefully, telling him she understood his reasons. Then she made him promise to stop with his matchmaking, and he agreed. Which was false. His father would never stop until he achieved his goal. Why was Abigail so naïve to believe otherwise?

Abigail.

She was a fiery temptress he ached for. He sat across from her at dinner, lost in a haze, because the images from this afternoon kept flashing before him. Every movement, every throaty laugh, every smile reminded him of how he had brought her pleasure and the sighs that had echoed around them. His need to hear those sighs again almost pushed him to steal into her bedchamber. But he had overstepped himself and ruined any chance he had when he offended her.

Lucas tugged off his boots and shucked his trousers. It would appear he had angered the servants again, since his valet never came to his room and during dinner they set his meal far away, making him reach for his plate. He should just travel to London on the morrow. Because once the rest of his family arrived, he wouldn’t have a minute of peace.

“Lord Gray, I have made a decision.” Abigail’s soft whisper floated over to him.

He shook his head. Now madness had set in, because he imagined Abigail stood in his bedchamber, talking to him. Lucas swiped a hand along his face.

“Do you not wish to hear about my decision?”

Lucas stilled. He struggled to imagine hearing her voice again. He slowly turned and saw Abigail standing near the mirror. Lucas grabbed the quilt to draw around his middle. He stood in shock at her appearance but still drew her in.

She was his dream come true. Every fantasy he held, she turned into a reality. Her fiery hair hung down her shoulders, and she wore a simple white robe. Lucas wondered what lay beneath it and how quickly he could dissolve her of it. She stood before him acting boldly, but he noticed her trembling and the hesitation in her gaze. However, he was powerless to respond.

But he could show her a sign of encouragement. He walked toward her until they were but a breath apart. Lucas gave her a nod to proceed. If he opened his mouth, he feared the wrong words would spew forth and he would frighten her away. He may be foolish but not enough to ruin any chance she gifted him with this evening.

Lucas waited for Abigail to explain her reason for appearing in his room, looking like a package that needed to be unwrapped. When she untied her robe and let it fall at their feet, he stood dumbfounded. He was unsure how much time passed before he responded. Only when doubt filled her gaze and she bent to gather her robe did he react.

Abigail took a chance, and she had failed. At least she could say she had tried. Before she lost the rest of her dignity, she needed to leave. However, Lucas lifted her in his arms, kissing away every doubt she held. He never gave her a chance for the speech she prepared. Instead, he held her as a cherished treasure.

When she arrived, Lucas had been in the middle of undressing, oblivious to her. Instead of stating her presence, she had watched him strip every bit of clothing off. He was indeed a fine specimen. Lucas held the ability to make Abigail forget every ladylike thought she should have and turn her into a wanton temptress.

Lucas carried Abigail to his bed, not once taking his mouth from hers. Each kiss held desperation. He stretched above her, pressing intimately against her. She set his soul on fire. Every noble act he swore he wouldn’t subject her to vanished when she bared herself to him. A gentleman only held the ability to restrain himself so much when temptation lay at his feet. And when the lady who held his heart gave him permission to love her, who was he to refuse?

“Abigail,” Lucas moaned.

“Yes, Lord Gray,” Abigail murmured.

Lucas scowled before he kissed her fiercely. “Lucas.”

She slid her fingers into his hair, guiding him back to her lips. She whispered, “Lucas,” before he devoured them again.

Each kiss stretched into another as their hands wandered, exploring each other. Their moans whispered around them. Lucas rolled them over and Abigail lay across his chest. Her breasts branded him. She shifted and her hardened nipples softly scraped across him.

He pulled back from their kiss and speared his hand through her hair. “I need to make love to you.”

“We have all night.”

“Forever,” Lucas demanded.

Abigail didn’t answer him because forever wasn’t in her plans. She only wanted this one night. She was realistic enough to understand her place in Lucas’s life. No matter how much everyone supported a union between them. Abigail understood Lucas better than anyone else. While his conscience would demand he marry Abigail for taking her virtue, it wouldn’t be his first choice. He wanted a bride from an upstanding family of the ton. Not a bride whose mother had a child out of wedlock and never married.

Instead of agreeing with Lucas, she lowered her head and placed one soft kiss after another along his neck and across his chest. She hoped to distract him, and she did. When her hands slid down his stomach, he didn’t stop her this time and helped guide her on how to please him. He pressed her palm against his hardness.

Abigail gasped at his strength. He dropped his hand, allowing her to explore on her own. Abigail wasn’t a naïve lady. She had learned a lot from when the servants gossiped and when each of her married friends let intimate details of their marriages slip. Her hand wrapped around him and the silky smoothness glided in her grasp. She peeked a glance at Lucas to find his lids lowered as he watched her pleasure him.

When she tightened her grip and brushed her thumb across the tip, he swore his pleasure. A dew of wetness slid across her thumb. She lifted it to her lip and sucked the taste of Lucas onto her tongue. When she licked her lips and moaned her pleasure, he flipped her over onto her stomach.

“You temptress minx. You aim to torture me with your seduction.” Lucas pressed into her back, whispering in her ear. “But not before you suffer from my seduction first.”

Abigail shivered in anticipation as Lucas’s mouth trailed a searing path down the middle of her back. His hand slid underneath to cup her breast. While he started his torture, his fingers pinched her nipple, bringing forth an ache she needed relief from. However, Lucas had only just begun. How he turned her seduction around on her, she’d never know. Nor did she care as long as he never stopped.

She was heaven and hell in his arms. The answer to his prayers, yet a promise out of his reach. Every silken inch of her begged for his touch, and he wouldn’t deny the passion they could share.

His hand slid lower, sinking into her curls. Wetness coated his fingers at the first stroke. Abigail whimpered and pressed her buttocks up against him.

“It appears my minx is impatient,” Lucas teased.

His fingers teased her too, brushing across her wetness, then pulling away. Each time, she pressed against his cock. He didn’t know who he tortured more. His lips trailed down her back and over her buttocks.

Abigail moaned her need. “Lucas, please.”

“I aim to please you, my love,” Lucas promised.

And he did with each soft stroke of his tongue. Abigail parted her thighs for him and he raised her hips to savor her sweetness. Each drop of her dewy wetness coated his tongue, and he drank from her with a thirst only she could fulfill. His finger slipped in and out while he kissed her thoroughly. She pressed her core into his mouth, searching for her release. Lucas strung Abigail’s need toward a higher power. Every time she gave, he took greedily, wanting her to give more of herself over to him.

Abigail’s legs shook around him when she exploded. Lucas stroked her thighs as she floated back to him. He rolled her over, needing to see her reaction. A flush spread across her cheeks and traveled along her chest at his bold stare. Her breasts rose with each deep breath she drew. Her unfocused gaze held the look of a woman well satisfied. A smug smile settled over his face until a single tear leaked from Abigail’s eye.

His satisfaction crashed to a halt. It was then that he realized there was no turning back for them. Abigail was his world. He refused to live another day without her by his side.

“I am sorry.” An apology escaped from him.

Abigail stared into his eyes, searching for answers. But he didn’t think she found what she searched for. “I’m not and it saddens me that you are.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“Because your love was so beautiful.”

“Oh.” Lucas was speechless and unsure how else to respond.

Abigail watched confusion cloud Lucas’s gaze. He held himself stiffly above her, uncertain how to act. His apology was only a reaction to her tears. When, in fact, his hardness pressed into her, making its intention known. A man sorry for his actions wouldn’t remain so close with his interest so obvious.

A wicked smile spread across Abigail’s face. “Lord Gray, you are not finished yet, are you?”

Lucas growled.

Abigail wrapped her hand around Lucas’s cock. “Lucas.” Her need echoed in her whisper.

Lucas lost what remained of his honor when she smiled like a temptress and teased him with her touch. “No, I am not.”

He slowly slid inside her, drawing out their pleasure. Abigail tried pressing up, but Lucas held her hips still. “Patience, Miss Cason.”

He slid in deeper and paused. Waiting.

“Yes, Abigail,” he moaned as he slid out and back in again. “Abigail, Abigail, Abigail,” he chanted as he slid in and out.

Abigail wrapped her arms and legs around Lucas, clinging to him. Her body moved in sync with his. Each time he pulled out, she pressed into him, not wanting their bodies to part from one another. Nothing else compared to the heights he took her to as he worshipped her. Their bodies danced as one, each movement drawing out their passion to the sweetest melody.

Lucas had never experienced this intense passion with another soul. He had longed for this connection for years, even though it was his fault for denying them happiness. He was a fool who finally understood the madness of love.

Lucas grabbed Abigail’s leg and raised it up to his hip, pressing deeper into her. Her nipples rasped across his chest, begging for him to kiss them. His head lowered, drawing a bud into his mouth. He sucked the berry like a man feasting on the most succulent of fruits. Abigail’s fingers scraped along his back, her body begging him to meet her demands. He’d never get enough of her.

Abigail tightened around his cock with short pulses that built into longer ones. He raised his head and stared into her love-filled eyes. He watched her unravel around him, spreading her wings to fly. But he refused to have her fly without him. He drew her lips in a kiss and pressed in harder until he soared with her.

Lucas drew Abigail across his chest, clutching her to him. He never wanted her out of his arms again. She was the other half of his soul. It was foolish to think he could ever live without her. The demand for them to wed was on the tip of his tongue. But if he did, he would sound like a brute and he had behaved in that manner more than once of late. No. Abigail deserved a grand gesture when he declared his love.

Abigail luxuriated in Lucas sliding his hand up and down her back in a soft caress. She was barely holding it together. She wanted to burst into tears from their exquisite lovemaking. It was beautiful beyond words. She sensed Lucas was already making plans for their future. He would feel an obligation now since he had ruined her. Abigail wished to be more than an obligation. Ever since her mother died so tragically, she had been an obligation to the Duke of Colebourne. She didn’t regret giving herself to Lucas, but she refused to become a burden.

With much reluctance, she slipped from his arms and wrapped the bedsheet around herself.

Lucas grabbed the sheet, stopping Abigail from leaving his bed. “And where do you think you are going, my bewitching minx?”

Abigail tugged the sheet higher. “I must return to my room.”

Lucas pulled her back into his arms. “You are going nowhere. I have not gotten my fill of you yet.”

The kiss Lucas gave Abigail had her melting in his arms again. With each pull of his lips, Abigail’s need to return to her room became forgotten. His tongue slid inside to stroke hers. They danced until the flame consumed them.

“I do not think I ever will,” he whispered in between kisses.

Abigail clung to Lucas at his declaration. She never wanted to relinquish her hold. She had promised herself an evening with Lucas, and the evening was far from finished.

Dawn hovered on the horizon when Abigail inched out of Lucas’s bed. He had fallen asleep after teaching her the many delights of lovemaking. She had watched him sleep, storing away the memories until the sky lightened.

Her gaze lingered on Lucas as she drew on her robe. She took a step toward the bed but stopped herself. She almost brushed the hair from his eyes. However, she wouldn’t stop after the first touch, and she couldn’t risk being discovered by anyone.

She eased the mirror open and snuck back inside her bedchamber. Abigail heard the first signs of the servants starting their day. With a heavy sigh, she donned her nightgown and crawled into bed. There were a few hours left to sleep before everyone arrived, and she needed her rest before the chaos began.

But how was she to sleep alone when she only wanted Lucas’s arms holding her?