A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 114 - Hundred And Fourteen

It was a slow, incredibly sinful, and highly deliberate gesture. He did it while looking right into her eyes, making sure she saw exactly how much he enjoyed the taste of her. He smiled. It was a wicked, deeply arrogant smile that made Delaney’s knees buckle once more.

Rowan turned his head slightly toward the wooden door.

His voice changed immediately. The husky, desperate tone vanished. When he spoke, he sounded perfectly composed, incredibly authoritative, and exactly like the unbothered Duke of Ford.

"You may leave, Henderson," Rowan called out clearly through the door.

"But Your Grace, your clean shirt..." Henderson started.

"I handle it myself," Rowan interrupted smoothly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I am eating right now, and I do not want any interruption. Leave the clothes with Simmons and go to the kitchens. Do not return until I ring the bell."

Delaney closed her eyes, her face burning hotter than a furnace. I am eating. It was the most scandalous, wicked double meaning she had ever heard in her entire life.

Henderson replied from the other side of the door, completely unaware of the truth.

"Of course, Your Grace," the valet said, his tone instantly returning to polite obedience. "Enjoy your meal. Pardon me for the interruption."

They listened to the soft, rhythmic sound of Henderson’s footsteps walking away down the carpeted hallway until they completely faded into silence.

The coast was finally clear.

Rowan did not stay on the floor. He stood up in one smooth, incredibly powerful motion.

Before Delaney could even process that the danger had passed, Rowan leaned down. He wrapped one strong arm around her back and slipped his other arm securely under her knees. With effortless ease, he lifted her completely off the floor.

He carried Delaney away from the hard wooden door and walked straight toward the center of the vast room, carrying her to his massive, four-poster bed.

He laid her down gently on the mattress. The dark blue silk bedcovers were cool and incredibly soft against her back. The bed was so large she felt tiny inside it.

Rowan did not lie down beside her. He stood at the edge of the mattress, looking down at her for a long, heavy moment. He looked at her dark hair spread across his pillows. He looked at her plain green wool dress, and then he looked at the way her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath.

He stepped forward. He reached down and grabbed the heavy folds of her dress again.

He pulled her dress up higher this time, pushing the fabric all the way up to her waist, leaving her long legs completely exposed to the cool air and his burning gaze.

Rowan leaned over the bed. He did not go straight for her center. He wanted to take his time. He wanted to claim every single inch of her.

He lowered his head and kissed her bare thigh.

His lips were soft at first, brushing gently against her sensitive skin. But then, the gentle kisses changed. He opened his mouth and bit down gently on the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

Delaney gasped, her back arching off the mattress.

Rowan sucked on the skin, applying firm, demanding pressure. He was intentionally leaving a mark. He was branding her. He wanted to leave a dark, physical reminder that she belonged to him, a mark that the fake husband downstairs could never touch and would never see.

He moved his mouth higher, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses and gentle bites along her thighs, torturing her with the slow, agonizing delay.

Rowan lifted his head and looked at Delaney.

Her head was thrown back against his pillows. Her eyes were rolled back, lost in the overwhelming haze of pure pleasure. One of her hands was gripping the dark blue silk bedsheets, twisting the expensive fabric into tight knots. Her other hand was reaching out, blindly grabbing a fistful of his blond, messy hair to pull him closer.

She looked completely undone. She looked nothing like the polite, careful cousin or the strict, organized matchmaker. She looked wild, entirely surrendered, and completely his.

The sight of her being so open, so wonderfully lewd and desperate for his touch, aroused him more than anything he had ever experienced in his life. The heavy, throbbing ache in his own body became almost painful, but he ignored it. He wanted to give her everything first.

Rowan shifted his weight, moving closer. He reached out with his large, strong hands and held her thighs firmly. His fingers dug slightly into her soft skin. He held onto her thighs as if they were the only things keeping him sane, anchoring him to the earth in the middle of a violent storm.

Then, his mouth went back to her center.

Delaney let out a sharp, high cry. The sudden, direct contact of his hot, wet tongue against her most sensitive point was entirely too much to bear. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

He was relentless. He did not slow down. He drank her in, tasting her sweetness, matching the desperate, thrashing movements of her hips with perfect, focused precision. He drank her until she was completely dry, pulling every single ounce of pleasure from her trembling body.

The tension inside Delaney built higher and higher. It felt like a tightly coiled spring, winding tighter with every stroke of his tongue, every hot breath against her skin. The sad, distant melody of the piano downstairs completely vanished from her mind. There was only Rowan. There was only the heat, the dark bedroom, and the impossible, building pressure.

"Rowan," she sobbed softly, her voice breaking completely.

She could not hold it back any longer. The spring finally snapped.

A massive, overwhelming wave of pure, blinding pleasure crashed over her. It started at her core and radiated outward, sending violent, wonderful tremors through her entire body.

She held her hand to her mouth as she climaxed, biting hard into the heel of her own palm to muffle her loud, desperate cries of release. Her body arched high off the mattress, trembling uncontrollably as the waves of pleasure washed through her again and again.

When the final tremor finally passed, all the strength completely left her limbs.

Her head fell back onto the soft pillow. Her chest heaved heavily as she dragged in deep, ragged breaths of air. Her hand slipped away from her mouth, falling limply to her side on the silk sheets. She was completely, utterly exhausted, and more perfectly relaxed than she had been in her entire life.

She opened her eyes slowly, looking up at the grand, shadowed canopy of the Duke’s bed, waiting for her heart to slow down.