A Vixen for the Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel (The Hale Sisters Book 2)
A Vixen for the Duke: Chapter 21

Morgan clasped his hands and pressed them to his lips, staring at the cabin door. He had been a fool to so quickly dismiss Harriet’s attempts to help. She had been right. She knew exactly what Daphne needed. Somehow, she had said all the right words with such ease and elegance. Now more than ever, he wasn’t sure if he could live without her.

He fixed his eyes on Harriet. She looked so sweet wrapped in a blanket and wearing his clothes. She sat there, so unassuming, as if she hadn’t just single-handedly fixed every bit of strife that had been plaguing both of their families. She dried the remainder of the tears from her eyes, wincing as a crack of thunder sounded outside.

Morgan stepped forward from his spot by the fireplace. The light cast shadows all across the walls. The fire crackled and popped as each flame ate at the pieces of dry wood. Before he could think twice or stop himself, the words were tumbling out of his mouth. “I love you.”

Harriet stood up at once, her mouth hanging open and her breath quickening. “I—” But she choked on the words.

“I do. I do,” he said. “I love everything about you. I love the way you laugh. I love the way you take pride in everything you do. I love the way you care, the way you make me a better person. I love the way you make the most out of life’s challenges. I love you, Harriet Hale, I do.”

The blanket fell off Harriet’s shoulders. She stood there, frozen. Finally, she opened her mouth, and he closed his eyes, steeling himself for her reply. “I love you too,” she whispered. “For what has felt like so long.”

Morgan smiled, taking his seat at the table and looking at his teacup. He still felt cold, although the change of clothes had helped. After a moment, Harriet joined him. “I cannot go back out there yet,” he said. “I want to wait until the storm dies down.”

Harriet nodded. “That would be best,” she agreed. Her voice was soft and timid.

Knowing that she loved him too had calmed him, but there was still so much to talk about. They had already gone through so much today. Morgan just wanted to enjoy this moment with her before they had to go back to the real world.

Harriet took a deep breath. “You used to spend a lot of time here?”

Morgan nodded. “When I was young, it felt so…” He shook his head, laughing, “I do not know, adult, maybe? It was my own castle, just far away enough from my father to give me space to breathe. I would stay out here for a few days. Sometimes, Lord Hartley and I would sneak my father’s brandy out and we would get…” he trailed off, not knowing if it would be rude to tell her how he and his friend used to get drunk and stupid.

“Sounds like you kept good company back then.” She smiled teasingly.

“Oh, I still do,” he said. “In fact, I am currently friends with the most fascinating woman.”

Harriet frowned. “Oh.”

“She’s gotten me into countless predicaments,” he added. “One, most recently, involving a dresser.”

“Oh! Stop that!” She picked a sugar cube out of the bowl and threw it at him. He laughed, putting his hands up in surrender. “That was completely your fault, anyway.”

“You came to my room,” he pointed out.

“I wanted to talk.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Did you?”

Her mouth twitched, and she smothered a goofy smile. She threw another sugar cube at him. He shouted playfully and stood up, grabbing the bowl of sugar off the table.

“Hey!” Harriet gasped.

She stood up, reaching for the bowl. Morgan shook his head, laughing. He was lucky to have found a friendship as effortless as this. Wasn’t that what he was looking for? After all this time? He didn’t want to marry just anyone. He wanted to marry his best friend.

“Give that back!” she whined, but her voice trailed off, getting distracted by something. He realised he must have been looking at her funny. “Morgan?”

He set the sugar bowl down, not wanting to waste another moment, especially when they had this entire cabin to themselves and their clothes were still damp and drying by the fire. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, leaning into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, whimpering softly into his kiss.

That noise she made had always driven him wild. She leaned back, tugging at his shirt. He parted from her lips for just a minute to pull it up over his head, and she was doing the same, pulling his old nightshirt off until she stood in only her chemise and her stockings.

He took a quick breath and pulled her back to him. Her fingers were running through his hair and across his shoulders, tugging him closer, each touch growing more desperate and urgent with each passing moment. He bent down, kissing the sensitive skin on her neck and loving every moan that escaped her lips.

Morgan didn’t know how long they could stay out here before anyone found out, but he wasn’t entirely certain he cared. He was going to ask her to marry him, but that would have to wait. It had become impossible to restrain himself around her. He’d always prided himself on being a gentleman, but she had slowly unravelled him without even trying.

He placed his hands on her hips and guided her over to the bed. She sat down on the edge, her head tilted back and her mouth hanging open. He trailed his lips down her body, starting at her neck, then down her chest after pulling her chemise off. Her body was even more beautiful than he’d imagined. Then, he knelt before her, and she looked down at him.

He smiled at her before spreading her legs with his hands and leaning in.

Harriet gasped as his tongue dipped between her folds and brushed across her bud. She shouted, her legs spreading wider. Her back arched at the wave of pleasure, and she leaned back on one arm to prevent herself from falling back against the mattress. With her other hand, she held onto his hair. All of this was so new to her. Just a week ago, she hadn’t even the slightest clue that anyone could make her feel so good. All she knew was that Morgan had something that she wanted and needed.

The fact that he was enjoying this just as much as she was made her feel even lighter. His tongue and lips were frantic, and he grunted softly as he licked her as if he couldn’t get enough. His tongue ran over every inch of her heat, sucking on her pearl and exploring her core. She moaned, dipping her head back. Her hips bucked. So easily he had coaxed the feeling out of her. Already, her legs were shaking, and without noticing, she’d tugged his head closer. As much as she didn’t want to orgasm and for all this to be over, she hadn’t found herself telling him to stop. She was already past the point of no return. He had brought her there so effortlessly.

With one last flick of his tongue, she shouted, her body convulsing as she orgasmed. She fell back, arching her back as he continued lapping at her. Her core was overwhelmed with an explosion of heat. It spread through her like wildfire, sparking at the soles of her feet, hungrily rushing up her legs all the way to her inner thighs and raging in her centre. The top of her head fizzed with pleasure. She moaned softly, squirming in the sheets as he pulled away.

“I wish it wasn’t over so soon,” she whimpered.

Morgan grinned. “Over? I am not done with you. Not even remotely.”

He leaned over her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her up so that she was in the middle of the bed. He ran his hand up her body, groaning against her lips as he kissed her. Harriet whimpered as he ran his hand over her breast. His lips left hers and wrapped around her nipple, his tongue running across it.

The feeling was still running through her, only now she felt more desperate than ever. She wasn’t sure if this was something that could be satisfied. Might she be left wanting for the rest of her life? He kissed her breast and sucked on the soft skin. Her feet kicked at the mattress, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. He drew away, out of breath, and looked into her eyes. His were dark, focused, hungry, and yet something under the surface was happy. Harriet had never been looked at like that.

She squirmed again, wishing for him to do something to make her ache less. She tugged at him. He brought his mouth against her ear and exhaled softly, his hot breath tickling her skin. She flushed, closing her eyes and breathing in sharply. “Are you impatient?” he asked. “I have waited so long for this. I want to take my time with you.”

At that moment, something came over Harriet. She pushed him back, feeling brave. He fell beside her, and immediately, she climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. She rocked her hips against his, and he grunted, his hands firmly on her hips, pulling her down against him. She leaned down and kissed him.

If the first time she’d met him, all covered in mud, someone had told her that the man who had offered her his coat would be lying between her legs, she would have been horrified. She was shocked someone would want her after her scandal, but most of all, she could never imagine wanting a man this badly. She had never been moved by anyone before. She had never imagined how anyone might love her or how his lips might feel against hers. She had never imagined rocking her hips against the bulge in his trousers or running her hands across his bare chest.

She reached down and unbuttoned the top of his pants, her hand running over his bulge. Morgan’s breath quickened, and he closed his eyes. His hands reached down, and she helped him pull off his trousers. Harriet stilled when she saw his member. She’d pictured it before, but in her imagination, she had hardly known where to start. She froze, and he guided her by her hips, pulling her back over him. She sat, her heat pressed against his length. He tugged her down until she was face-to-face with him.

Morgan didn’t need to tell her what to do. Harriet knew. She rocked back and forth, whimpering as his member rubbed against her folds and her pearl. He cursed softly under his breath.

She thought about how months ago this very moment had terrified her. She had been mentally preparing herself the night before her wedding. Once Lord Northwick made her his, she had imagined she’d lose a part of herself. She had imagined he would rob her of something. The thought had brought her close to tears, even though he had been about to be her husband.

And yet, here she was, kissing Morgan’s lips and aching for the moment. The Duke wasn’t her husband, but she didn’t even care. She wanted him to have this moment, even if they truly were meant to go their separate ways. She pulled away, looking into his eyes. “Please,” she whispered.

He reached down and guided himself to her entrance. She groaned and sunk onto him, her eyes going wide. The feeling was so new. She wasn’t sure what to make of it at first. She fell, her chest pressing against his, and rocked her hips. It was gentler than she had thought. But she wanted more. She sunk her nails into his shoulders, and he grasped her hips.

Harriet shouted, once, twice, three times, and didn’t stop as he thrust up into her. She hung over him, her mouth against his shoulder, whimpering as he filled her. Again, she felt that pressure in her lower belly growing with every thrust. He had hardly begun, and she already didn’t know how much more she could take. The feeling was incredible, warming her chest and making her toes tingle. She moaned, each breath coming out like a sob as she rocked on top of him, kissing him desperately each time they slowed down for a break. When she pulled back, he cupped her cheek and pushed her hair out of her face.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

Harriet nodded, breathing in sharply as he thrust up into her again. She rolled her hips, crying out, keeping her eyes on him. At that moment, everything they’d seen, everything they’d done, all of the things that worried them or weighed on them, none of it mattered. Right now, the only thing that existed was them and the feeling of their joined bodies while the storm raged outside.

Harriet was floating. Higher. Higher. Higher. And all of a sudden, she exploded, tightening around him. He groaned, thrusting hard into her one final time. Together, they cried out, reaching ecstasy, their fingers pressed hard against each other’s cheeks, their eyes fixed on each other.

After a moment, Harriet rolled off of him, and he moaned softly as he slipped out of her. She fell beside him, and he wrapped his arm around her, bringing her closer.

He laughed, but he was too out of breath to sound any bit natural. “Harriet,” he panted. “We shouldn’t have.”

“I do not care,” she said. “They have only told us not to do it because they knew we would never be able to stop.”

He laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss against her forehead. “We will have to learn restraint.”

She made a disinterested noise in the back of her throat, too tired and euphoric to make any actual effort. She lay there, her head pressed against his chest, her breath rising and falling with his.

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