Unmasking the Duke's Mistress (Gentlemen of Disrepute #1)(40)

But Dominic did not stop at her breasts. When he kept on moving she threaded her fingers through his hair and tried to guide him back to where her nipples ached for his touch. His gaze held hers, all dark and blazing with desire, and as she watched he placed a single kiss just below her ribcage. And then, keeping his gaze locked with hers, he kissed her again, this time lower, in the centre of her stomach…and then a third time, just at the line of her pelvis.

‘Dominic!’ She tried to close her legs. ‘You surely do not mean to—’

But he did.

His warm breath stirred the small patch of golden hair as his mouth touched to her secret woman’s place.

She gasped at that first kiss, at the wonder of the sensation that shot through her body. And by the time he was working a magic with his tongue she forgot to bite her lip and groaned her pleasure aloud.

‘Dominic,’ she whispered, but he did not stop and she was arching her back and driving herself harder into his mouth, reaching for him, needing him with an urgency that obliterated all else. And when his hands closed over her breasts and she felt his fingers pluck at her taut straining nipples she reached her climax, exploding in the sensation, her body soft and pulsing her pleasure against him.

He kissed her thighs, kissed the curve of each hip, kissed his way up to take her in his arms. And then he gently stroked the long wanton curls from where they spilled over her face and looked at her with such love that her heart welled with joy to see it.

‘Arabella,’ he whispered and she loved him in that moment despite everything, she loved him against all rhyme and reason.

She pulled him closer and felt his hardness press against her leg. She wanted to pleasure him as he had pleasured her. She reached down and touched him.

She stroked the long hard length of his manhood and heard the breath catch in his throat and felt the tremble that racked his body. He lay still and let her take him, giving her the power to do whatever she willed.

She moved back, wanting to see him, wanting to see her fingers as they caressed his member, stroking that silken skin from its tip all the way down to the base amidst the nest of dark hair.

The groan escaped him. She held his gaze and bent her head to taste him…just as a door slammed shut upstairs.

The noise brought Dominic crashing back to reality. He could feel that Arabella had frozen at the sound.

‘It is nothing, Dominic.’ Her voice was too loud, too desperate, and he saw the flash of fear from her eyes. ‘Let it not interrupt us.’

But then the thud of running footsteps sounded through the ceiling above.

Arabella’s eyes widened. Her hand gripped tighter to his shaft.

She tried to stop him as he pulled away from her and tugged on his breeches. ‘No, Dominic, please!’ She jumped up, pulling on her dressing gown and tying its belt quickly around her waist.

They could both hear the tumble of feet on the main stair case.

‘No!’ She ran in front of him, blocking his path to the door. Her hair was long and wild, her face devoid of all colour and in her eyes was desperation. ‘Dominic!’ she cried and tried to push him back. ‘Do not!’ She threw her full weight against him, trying to prevent his continued progress.


The footsteps grew louder as they headed along the passageway towards them.

He grabbed her wrists, secured her hands behind her, resting them lightly against the small of her back so that her breasts were thrust against his chest.

‘Who have you hidden in this house, Arabella?’ he asked, and even to his own ears his voice sounded harsh. He thought of Marlbrook and a wave of jealousy swept right through him.

‘No one!’ She struggled against him. ‘Please, Dominic, I beg of you!’

‘Mama!’ a child’s voice called and little fists pounded at the door.

The shock stole the words he would have spoken. He released his hold of her wrists. Her eyes were wide with anguish as she stared up at him.

‘Where are you, Mama?’ the child cried. ‘I dreamt that you and Grandmama had gone away and when I woke I was all alone.’

She turned and, opening the door, scooped the child, clad in a long white nightshirt, up into her arms. ‘Here I am, little lamb. It was just a silly old dream. I have been here all along, in my bedchamber, as I always am. Now hush, Archie, there is no need for tears.’ And she kissed the child and hugged him to her, and soothed a hand against his hair.

Dominic stared and his heart contracted as hard as if a fist had squeezed it, for the little boy in Arabella’s arms was the very image of himself.

Chapter Twelve



He watched as Arabella glanced around at the woman puffing breathlessly along the corridor.

‘Forgive me, Arabella.’ She hurried right up to Arabella and he saw at once who she was. ‘He was asleep and I was only gone for a minute to take care of my needs. I am so very sorry.’ And then Mrs Tatton glanced anxiously towards him standing there in the bedchamber. Her mouth fell open and she stared with an expression of horror at her daughter. ‘Dominic Furneaux! You did not tell me it was him! He is your protector? The one who has paid for all of this?’

Arabella nodded as she rocked the child gently in her arms.

‘How could you, Arabella,’ Mrs Tatton burst out, ‘after what he did to you?’

Arabella made no sign of having heard her mother’s words. She spoke to the child again. ‘Now, Archie, you must let Grandmama take you back to bed, for it is too early to be up and about.’ She kissed the little boy’s forehead and smoothed the tangle of his dark locks. ‘Be a good boy—I will be up to see you soon.’