Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I rub my head, which is beginning to ache. ‘I was part of your revenge.’
‘Was, Eliza. Not now.’
‘You’ve been through so much.’ My head is pounding, and it feels somewhat wrong for me to admit that, even if only to myself.
‘All of the horrors have led me to you, though, sweet lady.’ He comes to me and clasps my shoulders, dipping to get his face close to mine. ‘I cannot be sorry for that kindness from the Fates.’
I smile and lean in, kissing him freely. ‘I love you.’
‘I know you do,’ he answers, letting me indulge in his mouth. ‘Do you forgive me?’
‘I forgive you.’
‘Good. I am glad we are friends again.’ He breaks away, rises, and walks to his antique, mahogany desk and pulls out the chair, resting his hands on the back of it. ‘I believe you are now furnished with all of the details you need to tell the people the truth.’
I get up, walking over and lowering myself to the seat. He picks up the quill, dips it in ink, places it between my fingers, and pulls a piece of parchment towards me. ‘Write,’ he orders gently, pushing his lips into my neck, biting softly at my flesh. ‘And when you are finished, I will show you how the story ends.’
I inhale, my hand shaky, and start with the date, as he kisses my neck, my throat, my cheek. ‘I’m afraid I must insist on knowing the end before I can even think to write this story,’ I whisper as he nips and bites at my flesh.
His moving hands falter, his mouth pausing on my cheek, and then I am seized and thrown on his desk. The quill leaves my hand, ink flies, and a pile of papers waft into the air. ‘I just do not know what I am going to do with you,’ he says, his palms spreading across my lower back pulling me close to him.
‘I’m sure you do,’ I whisper, scanning his handsome face, my hands in his hair.
He smirks, dipping and dotting kisses over every inch of my face, working his lips down my front. ‘It may take longer than one night.’ His hand disappears up my dress and I shudder, tingles invading me. ‘Are you ready for the end?’ he asks, shoving my dress up and ripping my pantaloon’s down.
‘Ready.’
He pushes into me on a gruff bark, and I cry out, holding on to him tightly, my nails sinking into his back, my face nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
And I smile into his skin at the thought of many more nights with the Duke.
My duke.