Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(55)

She was not going to survive this. Did he not know how wrought up she already was? Did he really feel that more was necessary? Her head fell back against the wall and she gave in. Who cared what he wanted, what his purpose was? All that mattered was how she felt, how the fires grew within her. Her fingers tangled in the short blond curls, pulling him ever closer.

And then pain, one sharp all-encompassing blast of pain, of fire that licked from her breast downward, lighting every nerve in her with energy, that had her stumbling back against the wall, that had her on the brink of orgasm despite his promised withholding.

“You bit me,” she exclaimed, not even sure what emotion filled her voice.

“Yes, I did. Look.” He took a half step back.

A deep red circle was already forming about her nipple, the mark of his incisors clear. A circle of crimson on her white skin.

“What do you think?” he asked.

And what did she think? She should know this. It was her body. It was her mind. The pain had been hers also. How did she feel? What did she think? Why did being with Duldon only bring more questions, never answers? And why did her thighs feel even wetter? Her core more needy?



“Are you going to answer?” His eyes swept her face, the edge of concern filling his tone.

She shook her head, words more than she could manage. One of her hands reached up and traced the mark. It was growing redder and darker by the moment. This was not some light indent that would fade before he walked away. This would last a day or even a week. She was marked. Even getting the bodice of her dress fixed would require some explanation—or no explanation. She did not owe the maid anything, and no matter what she said, it would not matter. Nobody looking at the ripped lace and the mark upon her breast would have any conclusion but one. It would not quite be the right answer, but it would be close enough that she could not even protest.

She was marked, marked as his.

“You are blushing—now?”

Her eyes dropped. Even when she felt gentle fingers rise to softly stroke her and carefully raise her corset and fit her back into her bodice, she did not look up. The intimacy of being dressed, of being put back together, only increased her confusion.

“There, does that look right?” he asked.

She lifted her gaze just far enough to see her bodice. It looked much the same as it had before she met up with Duldon. It still needed to be repaired, but it did not reveal the happenings of the last moments—not that any maid would miss the marks upon her skin as she plied her needle.

“It is fine,” she replied.



His fingers brushed over her shoulder, then up to her hair, smoothing a few curls. “I will escort you to the retiring room and wait, then we will have that waltz I’ve promised.”

She nodded slowly.

He placed her hand upon his arm and led her back out. Her legs shook as she walked. Her entire body was still a tightly wound spring of desire. Her mind filled with confusion.

Outside of the retiring room she nodded at Miss Amy Samson and Miss Sarah Swilp. She turned swiftly as she saw Angela heading back down the stairs. Questions were the last thing she needed at this moment. There was no possibility that she could answer another when she had no answers for herself—except for that one answer, that answer she was trying so hard to avoid.

Duldon had marked her as his and she had not protested, had even delighted. Was it because deep in her heart she was beginning to think it might be true? Did she already belong to him?





Chapter Fourteen


“Lady Perse is here to see you.”

Bliss looked up as the porter’s flat voice filled the room. “To see me?”

The poor man looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. He managed to hold back. That was a relief. One never knew what to expect with her father’s servants.

She took pity on him. “Of course she’s here to see me. Who else would she call on? Perhaps father? Or one of my sisters?” Now she was rambling—and to the porter. She really was not quite herself today. All she could think of was the fullness of her breasts, the need between her thighs, the need coiled deep within her waiting for release. Every move she made brought only more awareness of her body, more want, more desire.

“Should I send her in, my lady?” The porter tried to help her get back on track.

“Oh yes. Of course. And have Cook send tea and something small to nibble in a few minutes. I would not wish Lady Perse to feel mistreated in any way.”

The porter gave her a slight glare. Oh dear, she had not meant to imply that the staff would mistreat any guest. Should she try to explain that it was only that she feared Lady Perse could take anything wrong? No, that would probably only make it worse. If only she could hide under a table until after Lady Perse’s visit. She dreaded trying to talk when her mind was fluttering about like a flock of sparrows at a field of breadcrumbs, her thoughts focused on the desires of her body, on the torture of need.



The porter left and Bliss drew in a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

She rose as Lady Perse entered the room and moved to greet her. “How good it is to see you, my dear lady.”

“I do hate it when people say things they don’t mean. You’d probably rather it was anyone but me,” Lady Perse stated, glancing about the room and settling in the most comfortable of the chairs, the one Bliss had just vacated.