His Grace, The Duke: Second Sons Book Two
His Grace, The Duke: Chapter 49

Rosalie paced away. She couldn’t bear to look at Tom. She couldn’t breathe. This torrent of emotions threatened to tear her apart. Since these men came storming into her life, she felt each bar that made up the cage of her heart rattled and tested for weaknesses. If she wasn’t careful, the right word or look or gentle touch would become her undoing.

“Rose,” Tom growled, slapping down the chess piece on the side table.

She ignored him with a shake of her head, pacing to the other side of James’ study. She had to stay strong. She had to stay safe. She wanted more than bars on a cage. She wanted walls, walls, higher and higher walls.

Safer alone. Always alone.

“Christ, Rose, talk to me.” Tom was quiet for a moment, watching her pace. “Oh shit…” And then she knew he knew. “It was Marianne…wasn’t it?”

“Don’t say that name in my presence again,” Rosalie snapped, her eyes locking on him as she swept around the chairs. “It is unspeakable between us now. Do you understand?”

Tom snatched her arms at the elbows and pulled her close. His intoxicating scent enveloped her—salt and sea and sun. She bit back a whimper, even as she tensed at his touch.

“She is dead to me,” he growled, his breath warm on her cheek. “She is not even a memory I hold. She is nothing.”

The sincerity of his words washed over her like a cleansing rain. His arms wrapped around her as he pulled her close. “What can I do, Rose?” he muttered. “How can I remove this doubt once and for all? How can I prove to you that I love you?”

She stilled. “Did you…you love me?”

“We’ve been dancing around the saying of it for days—hell, it’s been weeks for me,” he admitted, his thumb brushing her cheek. “I swore to James and Burke I’d not push you. I’d let you lead and follow dutifully at the pace you set. But clearly, that is not working for us. I am near-mad with wanting to speak the words. I cannot breathe but think them at every moment. I feel them on the tip of my tongue, desperate to fly from my mouth.”

She held his gaze and whispered, “Then speak them now.”

He smiled down at her, eyes shining. “Rosalie Harrow, I love you. I am in love with you. I ache with love for you. I am consumed. I am burned down to ash and remade anew. I am yours, body and soul.”

A broken cry escaped her lips as she felt the bars around her heart rattle and crack.

“No other woman has ever compared, can ever compare to you,” he went on. “Your kindness and generosity, your fierce protection of others, your optimism in the face of adversity. Most importantly you inspire me to be better, to be happier. You freed me from my cage of fear and made me bold enough to admit what I want from my life.”

He took her gloved hand at the wrist and splayed her palm over his heart. “You are the missing piece of us, Rosalie. You are the fourth piece we always needed, but never knew how to replace. You belong with me. You belong with us. Please, say you feel this too.”

She pushed against his chest, needing to see into his depthless blue eyes. “Tom…I love you so much that I fear it might break me and leave me a devastated ruin.”

He cupped her face gently, his forehead dropping to rest against hers as he breathed her in. “Keep going,” he murmured.

“I’m no good at this,” she replied, voice shaking. “I’m sure to say the words wrong…”

“Just try, Rose.”

She nodded. How did she even make this make sense? “I didn’t think it was possible to love a person the way I love Burke. My love for him is something…wild,” she whispered, feeling the way her heart quickened. “With Burke, I feel so free. In loving him, I have set my soul free. It scares me. It thrills me. He makes love feel like a leap of faith, and every day I get a little braver, a little more ready to test my wings.”

“I know well the passions he can inflame in another,” Tom replied.

“It confused me…because my love for you feels so completely different,” she admitted. “You came into my life and burrowed into my very soul, bringing me comfort and friendship, two things I thought I could never earn. And you offered both wholly without conditions. You give, Tom. Men have only ever taken from me. Even Burke takes all my passion, he rips it from my chest. And I want to give it,” she added. “I give it gladly. I’d give him anything. Any piece of me…but you are the first man I’ve ever met who gives first. You make me laugh. You make me dream. Tom, you are my hope for a happier future.”

He sighed with relief, taking her gloved hand and pressing kisses to her fingers.

She stilled, letting the rest of her emotions cascade through her. For this perfect moment was marred by a storm cloud. “She called me a whore in front of a crowded room,” she whispered.

Tom stiffened.

“She called me a three-penny upright. She said I was going to ruin you, Tom. I’m afraid she might be right—”

“Don’t,” he growled. “Do not listen to her poisonous words. God, I don’t know what I ever saw in her. The Marianne I knew was kind. Time has changed her. Whoever I thought I knew, that person is gone…perhaps she never existed at all.”

Rosalie let out a shaky breath. “I said not to speak her name. Tom, I can’t bear it.”

His eyes narrowed. “What can I do to ease your mind?”

She closed her own, trying to center her breath.

“Rosalie…”

“You were with her,” she whispered.

Silence. He shifted on his feet. “Yes.”

“You were intimate together…”

“Yes.” She could feel his eyes on her. His hand grazed down her arm. “Please, Rose, just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”

Rosalie opened her eyes, resolve burning like a flame in her chest. “I will not be intimidated by a ghost. She is your past and we cannot change it.” Reaching out, she wrapped a gloved hand around his cravat. “But I am your future, Tom Renley. And it starts now. You are mine. Every piece of you. I mean to have them all for myself.” She paused, brushing her gloved fingers over his mouth. “Show me a piece she’s never had.”

“What?”

She took in his uniform and felt a smile curve her lips. “Give me the sailor. You threatened me with him in the woods, do you remember?” She leaned in close, licking his mouth with a flick of her tongue.

“Do that again and I will lose control,” he warned, his voice low.

Her smile fell as her resolve hardened. “Do it. Unleash yourself on me. Take me and use me and fuck me. Give me something you have never given to her.”

With a growl he was on her, his mouth claiming hers in a fierce kiss. Their hands worked fast, Rosalie tugging desperately at her gloves, aching to feel his skin with no barrier between them. Tom ripped off his coat, throwing it aside. His hands went to his black cravat, tugging it loose as his tongue pressed into her mouth. He tasted like the pink punch Burke hated so much and Rosalie smiled.

Tom got himself free of his cravat, jerking on his shirt to loosen the buttons at his collar. The “V” opened wide enough to expose the top of his cross tattoo. Rosalie dropped her chin and licked it, making him groan. He grabbed her by the arms and jerked her back, his expression wild as he took her in.

“Hit me,” he growled.

She blinked, sucking in a breath. “What?”

He gave her a grin so sinful it had her sex ready to weep. “You called me a friend again, and while I appreciate the sentiment when it comes to our love, you need to understand that when it comes to sex, I am not as kind nor as gentle as you seem to believe. You cannot hurt me, and I will never hurt you…but there can be worlds of pleasure found in a little pain. Now, take that sweet hand of yours, and hit me.”

Her hand moved on its own, striking his face with a slap that left her gasping.

His pleasure was evident on his face as he smiled wider. He snatched her other hand and pressed it against his hard cock. “Do it again.”

This time she felt bolder. She slapped his jaw, feeling the sting of it across her palm…and the pleasure of it in her core. The slap left a little pink mark on his cheek and she couldn’t help herself from leaning forward, pressing her hand over it.

His entire body was coiled tight. Heavens, he was her masterpiece. Adonis in the flesh. He was the broadest of the three—wider in the hips and shoulders, with thick, strong legs, a well-muscled chest. She trailed her hand down the ridges of his stomach, cupping his cock. “Fair is fair,” she whispered, her voice sounding much braver than she felt. “Hit me.”

He captured her mouth with another kiss, bruising and harsh. His hands worked fast, bunching up her dress until his calloused palms could slide up the length of her silky drawers. He found the buttons on her hip and tugged at them with his large fingers until the drawers slipped down her legs.

“My dress,” she panted between kisses. “Take it off.”

“Not a chance,” he growled, smoothing his hands over her bare bottom. “It stays on tonight. We’re fucking with our clothes on. This is a claiming. You’re all mine. My sweet, golden girl.”

She gasped as he spun her around, pressing her towards the sofa.

“Kneel,” he ordered. “Hands on the back, and lean forward.”

She sank to her knees on the sofa and her shaking hands reached out to grasp the curled wooden frame along the top. Tom was right behind her, pressing his weight against her. With one hand, he held her dress up, exposing her backside to the chill of the room. The other reached between her legs from behind, seeking out her aching sex.

“Are you ready for me?”

His fingers slid right through her wetness and they both groaned as two fingers sank inside her. She gripped tighter to the sofa frame, feeling the sharp press of the scrolled vine detailing against her palms as she pushed back on his fingers.

“Yes,” Tom growled. “Ride my fingers. In a moment you’ll ride my face and come all over it. Then I’ll bury myself in you until you scream.”

She was ready to come now. At the first clench of her sex, he jerked his hand free and dropped to his knees. She barely had a moment to breathe before his strong hands curled up her thighs. He pressed his shoulders forward, his hot breath blazing against her sensitive skin before his tongue was teasing her.

“Oh god!” At the first touch of his tongue against her sensitive bud, she wanted to scream.

His fingers joined his mouth, two fingers swirling in tight circles. She basked in the strange delight of being speared by his tongue. She widened her legs and pressed back against him, making him hum with pleasure. The vibration felt sinful. With their clothes on, it all felt dirty and dangerous. It was perfect. He was perfect.

There was no way to hold off her release. In moments, the coiling inside her burst outward and she was undone. Her breath left her in a rush and her legs shook. She sank forward, forehead resting in the curve of her elbow as she panted for breath.

Tom was on his feet in moments, leaning over her with both hands at his breeches. “You taste like heaven, Rose. Sweet as pineapple and sultry as sin. I’ve never been so hard in my goddamn life.”

“Take me,” she panted. “Please, take me—ah—”

Without ceremony, he gripped her hip with one hand and guided his cock to her entrance with the other, impaling her with a sharp stroke. They both cried out, Rosalie shaking with the thrill of being filled. Behind her, Tom’s hands smoothed up her hips and over the round curves of her backside. Before she could beg him to move, his right hand gripped her tight enough to make her gasp. Then she felt a sharp sting as he gave her cheek a slap.

“Oh—” Her eyes went wide with surprise, even as she felt herself clench around his thick cock.

Tom’s hand smoothed over the stinging cheek as he thrust out and back in, burying himself to the hilt. “That was one,” he rasped in her ear.

Panting, she glanced over her shoulder to see the feral look on his face. “Do it again,” she whispered.

His large hand came down on her with a slap, even as the other jerked her hips back against him, sheathing his cock.

“Oh god, Tom—” The sting of the slap brought tears to her eyes, but it wasn’t painful. It was exhilarating. She felt ready to come again, squeezing him tighter. “Tom, please—ah—”

Another slap, this one to the other cheek. Then he was rutting into her with such force she let out a silent scream. Her hands gripped painfully tight to the sofa as she did everything to hold herself upright, pressing against him as he took his pleasure, making her own spiral sky high.

“From this moment, we start anew,” he said in her ear. “I was a fool for taking so long to see you for what you are. My love. My mate. My wife in my heart, if not on paper. You will not doubt my constancy again. Do you understand? You will never doubt me or our love again. Say it.”

“Ah—never,” she cried. “Tom, I love you. Please, don’t ever leave me alone.” The words slipped out unbidden. A plea. A prayer.

He stilled for a moment, panting behind her. Then his hands became impossibly gentle. He curled himself around her, his hands cupping her breasts over the fabric of her dress. His thrusts changed from claiming to loving. He pressed in, holding her tight, his cock as deep in as their bodies would allow. “Never,” he murmured, kissing her neck. “You will never be alone again. I mean to make you my world. You, Burke, and James are my entire world now.”

Her body ached for the release she still craved.

“I only ask one thing of you,” he said, thrusting deep.

“Name it,” she replied, losing herself in the exquisite ache building inside her.

“Make more of an effort with James.”

She sucked in a breath. Of all the requests she thought Tom might make while buried deep inside her, that was nowhere on her list. “Tom—”

“We need him, Rosalie,” he whispered, tucking her loose hair behind her ear as he thrust in again. “He is part of us.” Thrust. “Only you can bring him in. Please, I know you love him. Try harder. For me, for Burke. Make us whole.”

Make us whole.

She imagined a bright, perfect future where she could let herself chase James Corbin, and he would let himself be caught. The four of them together. Happy. Hearts whole. Untouchable in their love. It was a beautiful dream…one Rosalie doubted could truly be hers. Nothing in her life had ever been that kind. Perfect was a word that stayed as far away from her as possible. And yet, she wanted to try.

It all came down to choices. We choose who we love. We choose who we fight for…who we die for…who we burn the world to ash for. She chose Horatio Burke. It was perhaps the easiest decision of her life. He was her shadow and she his. They would not be parted for anything.

She chose Tom Renley, her sweet, passionate sailor who wore his heart on his sleeve. He would love her and protect her, make her laugh every day. And he would fiercely love her Burke. They deserved their own happiness together, aside from whatever they shared with her. She would protect their love with everything she had.

Rosalie now had a final choice to make. Was she going to sit back and let life pass her by, afraid to live for fear of getting hurt again? Or would she be brave and dare to believe her life could be more? Choosing James Corbin terrified her. Choosing James Corbin meant choosing to be more. Did she have the strength for it?

Feeling Tom curled around her, his cock buried deep, she felt fortified. She gave him a little nod. “I will try.”