The Duke’s Twin Lust by Lorena Owen

Chapter Thirty

“It was a lovely night. Really, it was,” Lord Hastings muttered as he brought his lips to Amelia’s hand, slobbering all over her. “I expect to receive the next invitation very soon.”

Ernest exchanged amused glances with Amelia before saying, “Thank you, Your Grace. We hope to receive you soon.” In truth, he was going to make sure Lord Hastings never set foot into his manor ever again.

Lord Hastings nodded, shuffling towards the front doors, his angry-looking wife in tow. When Ernest turned to look at Amelia, he saw that she was trying hard to not laugh. He glanced at the departing Lord Hastings, wondering how his jealousy had not sparked up again when the duke touched Amelia. He supposed after his night with Amelia, he had gained some knowledge of how she truly felt about him, and this knowledge calmed him somewhat.

He turned his attention to the other noblemen and women who were now leaving the manor. At Amelia’s suggestion, they had left the terrace and gone back to the ballroom to lead their guests out of the manor. He could see Rebecca and her earl at the very end of the queue, still whispering excitedly to each other. The sight pleased Ernest more than he could say. He could not remember the last time he’d seen Rebecca in the presence of another man, especially one that was worthy of her.

“We appreciate your attendance, my lord,” Amelia said, curtseying to an old lord and drawing Ernest’s attention. Ernest smiled as he shook the lord’s hand. He had been paying less and less attention to the farewell greetings he was supposed to be handing out, but Amelia was playing her part quite well.

It was almost unbelievable that Amelia was not a highborn lady after all. She played her part better than Christiana ever could, than even Ernest’s mother ever did. Watching her, she seemed as though she were born for the role. He was certain he would never find another woman who could take charge of his manor and do a better job than Amelia, even if he searched all his life.

The crowd gradually thinned, and finally, only Rebecca and Lord Dondarrion were left.

“Your Grace,” the earl said with a bow. “I fear I must depart your beautiful manor now. I only have one request.”

“State it, my lord,” Ernest said.

“I wish to call upon your house tomorrow and visit with your dazzling sister.”

Ernest turned to Rebecca, who was beaming.

Ernest smiled. “We would be glad of that,” he said, and Rebecca’s smile seemed to widen.

The earl turned to Rebecca, took her hand, and kissed it. His performance was far more graceful than Lord Hastings. With a small smile at Amelia and a final bow to Ernest, he turned and walked away.

“I don’t believe it,” Rebecca said gleefully. She appeared to be so pleased she could not keep both feet on the ground. Indeed, she was hopping from foot to foot. “Lord Dondarrion is a delight. Thank you so much, Amelia.”

“I did nothing,” Amelia said simply. “You won him over all on your own, Rebecca.”

Ernest glanced at Amelia. Her humility was yet another reason he cared so deeply for her. Turning to his sister, he said, “I am truly happy for you, Rebecca.”

“Thank you, brother,” Rebecca said, sounding truly ecstatic. “If you don’t mind, I’m heading off to bed now. I have spent the night dancing and talking, and I am rather tired.”

She headed back into the manor, and Amelia and Ernest were left alone. Ernest turned to Amelia. “I shall escort you to your chambers now, shall I?”

He thought he could see the merest trace of disappointment on Amelia’s face before she said, “I would like that. Thank you.”

They headed off to her chambers together. Whenever Ernest looked at Amelia, he saw that she was resolutely looking in the other direction, silent. There seemed to be a fragile tension between them, and to break the tension, Ernest thought of things to say. However, he found that most of the topics his mind landed on had already been discussed between him and Amelia.

Finally, they reached the door to her chambers, and Amelia said, “Thank you, Ernest.”

“You’re very welcome,” Ernest said. He waited for her to open the door to her chambers and disappear from his gaze, but she merely stood there, looking up at him and biting her lip.

“I should go in and check on Michael,” Amelia said suddenly. “He sometimes has nightmares.”

“As you wish,” Ernest said, moving to the side so Amelia could open the door next to hers, behind which Michael slept.

But, Amelia did not move.

“What’s wrong?” Ernest asked.

But the words were barely out of his mouth when Amelia moved a step closer to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

Ernest was quite shocked. For a moment he only stared quite blandly as she kissed him. And then, a second later, he regained control of his senses. Wrapping his arms around her, he crushed her to him, kissing her with all the pent-up emotions of the night, from the jealousy he had felt watching her dance with other men to the sadness he had felt at her impending departure. She felt in his arms like the best thing he’d ever held, and he realised how badly he did not want to ever let go.

Her tongue was in his mouth, and she was kissing him with as much ferocity as he felt, and it calmed Ernest to know that his feelings were not one-sided. He felt a shiver of pleasure as she withdrew her hand from his neck, trailing up to cup his face in her palms. He realised how badly he wanted their skin to touch, to meld into each other. Already, he could feel a tightening in his groin, a need for release.

They kissed for what seemed like a long time, Ernest’s arms around Amelia’s waist, and her fingers in his hair. Ernest forgot where he was, forgot everything but the simple pleasure of having Amelia in his arms again. It felt twice as good realising that she was a different person from Christiana, not merely someone who had been dreadful and had changed quite suddenly due to an unhappy circumstance.

Suddenly, Ernest heard someone’s shuffling feet. Amelia jerked back immediately, as though she had been burned.

Ernest turned around, quite ready to strangle whoever it was.

The interruption had been caused by two maids. Their eyes were simultaneously popping out of their sockets, and it seemed as though they were in immediate danger of giggling.

Ernest’s annoyance grew. He knew they were probably on their way to clean up the ballroom, but why the hell did they not deem it fit to wait until morning?

He looked at Amelia, who seemed as though she was hoping for the ground to swallow her. He felt his passion clam up. Whatever would have happened before the maid’s arrival was definitely off the table now.

“Your Graces,” the maids curtseyed, letting out a sparse giggle or two.

Ernest could not hold it back any longer. He glared at the maids, and was not surprised when the look of amusement on their faces vanished, only to be replaced by terror. One of them let out a gasp before they tore away, running at full speed down the corridor.

Ernest felt a grim satisfaction as he turned to Amelia. To his surprise, Amelia was giggling softly.

“You didn’t have to frighten them so,” Amelia said.

“Yes, I did,” he replied. He was about to mention that he was quite uninterested in talking about some frightened maids, but he didn’t need to. Amelia’s gaze had dropped to the bulge in his breeches, and he heard her softly gasp.

“Amelia, we don’t have to—” he started, before he realised something. For once, Amelia did not look frightened or unwilling. She merely looked curious.

And, before Ernest could readjust his thoughts to this possibility, Amelia looked around, as if to make certain they were quite alone on the corridor. Then, she reached out with a trembling hand and cupped his erection through his breeches.

Ernest did not wait any longer. Moving closer to her, he lifted her into his arms, throwing open the door to her bedchamber. The account books were still lying atop her bed, and he deposited her upon it, shoving aside the books.

Amelia had her gaze fixed on him, and Ernest was pleased to see that there was no fear whatsoever. Her gaze spoke of pure, unfiltered desire. She rose to her feet and, slowly, began to loosen the straps on her dress. Her motions reminded him of the day at the lake, only now her movements were not borne of defiance but of passion. He watched her, arrested, as she pulled off her gown and was left with only her chemise.

He could see the outline of her breasts underneath the chemise, and the desire in him grew so taut it was likely to burst. Amelia hesitated a little before reaching for the hem of her chemise and stripping it off herself in one fluid motion.

Ernest felt his breath catch in his throat as he looked at Amelia’s naked body.

She looked better, even more glorious, than he had remembered. Her skin was the colour of pale milk, paler than the skin on her face. Her breasts were two full mounds atop her chest, with her taut nipples a light pink colour. Her waist was so tiny he was sure he could encircle it with one hand, but they flared out to sizable, sensual hips. And, between her legs, blond curls hinted at the sight of greater pleasure peeked up at him.

He saw her shiver slightly. He was certain she was a little cold but also nervous, and he went over to her, bending his head over hers as he kissed her again. This time, he could not resist touching her as his hand found her nipple and began to twist it gently between his fingers. Amelia moaned, crushing her mouth against his as the sounds came out of her, unbridled and urgent.

Ernest ran his hands over her breasts, down her stomach, cupping her buttocks in his palms. Amelia moaned even more urgently, her fingers fumbling for the hem of his shirt. Ernest raised his arms, helping her take it off, never breaking off the kiss.

She let out a gasp when she saw his body, her eyes lit with wonder. Ernest smiled at her reaction. She pressed her palms against his broad chest, wandering, searching. Ernest felt sparks of pleasure connected with wherever she touched. He started to trail kisses down her neck, across her shoulders, till he picked one of her nipples and sucked on it gently.

Amelia let out her loudest moan yet. She threw her head back, her fingers buried in his hair as he sucked. The action pleased him as much as it did her, as he felt his manhood grow even tighter. He wanted nothing more in that instant than to take her.

He sucked for a while, switching to the other breast when the first nipple was red and swollen. Afterwards, he left a trail of kisses down her stomach, kneeling when he got to her legs. She looked down at him, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“Ernest,” she said in a whisper.

It was a sigh of assent, he knew. Drawing closer, he peeked at the pink mound between her legs. It was slick, the fluid dripping between her legs. He leaned closer still, his tongue slipping out to give the mound a lick.

The effect was immediate. Amelia groaned, her fingers digging deep into his scalp. The pain, sweet and sharp, propelled Ernest further. Cupping her buttocks in his palm, he started to lick her in earnest, her moans crushing against his ears. He sucked on her, lifting a finger to pry apart her pink, wet folds to slip inside her, moving gently.

“Ernest,” Amelia groaned. She seemed to be on the edge of bliss, and Ernest knew one more touch would drive her over the edge. And so, he slipped another finger into her, moving it intently.

He felt her contract against his fingers at the same moment she let out a prolonged scream, as her fluid spilled all over his hand. She was shuddering from the strength of her climax, and Ernest felt himself draw close to his finish.

He rose to his feet as her shudders stopped, and saw that she merely had a dazed look on her face.

“That was—” she said, smiling as she bit her lip, and he saw the ending of her sentence in her eyes.

He seized her again, taking her in his arms and repositioning her gently on the bed. He removed his breeches quickly, and before long he stood in front of her, as naked as he was on the day of his birth.

Amelia gasped, her gaze drawn to his groin. “Oh my,” she whispered.

The look in her eyes positively sent his groin to trembling. Moving over to the bed, he started to kiss her again, wanting to give her a chance to say no if she was not quite ready. But, Amelia seemed to want him as much as he did her.

She wrapped her hand around him, and Ernest felt his whole body involuntarily tremble. Slowly, she guided him into her, and Ernest inserted himself into her as gently as he could.

* * *

Amelia felt her entire body explode with pleasure as he drove into her. She had never known what lovemaking would feel like, as every account she’d heard differed somewhat. And so, she had not expected to feel so good, to feel cataclysmic bliss erupt inside her. The pleasure inside her was so overpowering she was almost driven to tears.

Ernest started to move more quickly. Amelia felt her pleasure build. She wrapped her arms around him, her fingers scraping his back. She felt a slight amount of pain, but it was strongly sheated by the multitude of positive emotions she was feeling.

She had never done this before, but she thought she knew what she was supposed to do. Her fingers trailed lower, grabbing his buttocks as she arched up to him, raising her hips as she met him thrust for thrust. This seemed to please Ernest, as he groaned with pleasure, his head coming down to hers to give her a gentle bite on her neck.

Amelia sighed in pleasure. She wanted their skin to meet, to meld. And so, she leaned closer to him, her breasts against his chest. Ernest groaned again, one of his hands feeling for the space in between their bodies so he could grab her breasts. Amelia felt a shiver of pleasure run down her body as he squeezed her nipple between his fingers.

Ernest started to move even faster, and Amelia felt her pleasure build. She ran her hands across his strong, rigid back. She knew she was in the throes of ecstacy with the man on top of her, but somehow, she wanted more. She wanted him to be with her forever, and a part of her feared their lovemaking was not the beginning of something, but the end.

She pushed those thoughts away as soon as they creeped up. It did not matter, she told herself. She was going to enjoy this, whether or not it was the last time she would have Ernest completely to herself.

With that in mind, she held out a hand to stop Ernest.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern in his eyes. She knew that he thought that he had hurt her.

“Nothing,” Amelia said with a smile. Sitting up, she raised up her hands, guiding him to lay on the bed. And then she sat astride him, guiding his manhood into her.

Ernest sighed, raising his hips to help her. Amelia sighed too as he went into her. Pushing her fingers against his broad chest, she started to move. She did not know whether she was doing it right, but she seemed to be, because Ernest’s groans grew louder.

Amelia started to move faster, feeling pleasure explode in the core of her being. Her pleasure was mounting, invariably driving her towards a strong climax. From Ernest’s harsh sighs, she could tell he was feeling the same way.

Amelia leaned closer to him, giving his ear a little bite.

Her action seemed to push Ernest completely over the edge.

“Amelia,” he said with a groan, at the same moment Amelia felt his seed flow into her. She felt herself reaching the peak instantly, the strength of it leaving her shuddering, and collapsed against his strong chest.

Ernest wrapped his arms around her, and Amelia buried her face in his chest, loving the feel of his scent overpowering her nostrils. She was sure of one thing more than anything at that point; the fact that she wanted to be with him forever.