Chapter 31
Albert cast his eyes over the guests bustling about the ballroom and could not find Victoria. He stood with her mother, hoping she would return so he may dance with her, but after several minutes and she still did not appear, concern bit at his gut and would not relent.
He left the duchess speaking to a group of matrons, all of them watching their charges like hawks. He moved through the room, taking care not to be pulled into a conversation that he could not remove himself from.
Penworth stood talking near the supper room doors with Lady Sophie, and something about his friend's visage made him wonder if the duke was enjoying the conversation with the young woman as much as he would like.
He moved on, leaving the room and walking past the ladies' retiring room and the men's salon set out for their use during the ball. Victoria did not appear near either of these spaces, and he stood in the hall for several minutes, wondering where she was.
Was she safe? Had she become unwell?
He started back downstairs, striding toward the rear of the house, and skidded to a stop before the library doors. They stood slightly ajar. Inside he could see Victoria standing beside a sideboard where the whiskey decanter stood, pouring herself a glass.
"Victoria? What are you doing in here?" he asked, coming into the room and closing the door behind him.
She spun about, a little of the liquid spilling onto the floor. "I needed time away from the ball." She sipped her drink. "Oh, and Lady Sophie is not the lady for you. Trust me, should you marry her, your marriage will be as miserable as my first one."
His life would be miserable no matter whom he married if that woman was not the one standing before him.
"I do not want to marry Lady Sophie. Your concerns are moot."
She sighed, going over and slumping against the desk. "Well, thank heavens for that. I suppose now I only have my brother to worry about."
Albert did not think she did in truth. Penworth looked to have formed his own opinion on the lady in the past hour since their arrival. He reached out and took the whiskey glass, downing what was left of the drink.
"Never drink alone," he teased her, stepping against her to reach behind and place the glass on the desk.
His body, close to hers, soared with desire. Without caution, he reached out, placing her onto the desk. Her eyes darkened, a wicked light entering her jade orbs. She did not shy away from his touch but reached for him, settling him between her legs.
"I want you so much," he admitted, kissing her deep and long. Victoria sighed, taking all that he could give her. The demanding kiss stole his breath and wits, and he knew he had to feel her.
Tease her sweet flesh until she shattered in his arms.
He shuffled up her silk ballgown, pooling it at her waist. The soft skin of her thighs making him burn, his cock hard and aching to have her.
"Touch me, Albert," she begged him. "Please, touch me."
He could not deny her. He slipped his hand between her legs, teasing her bud, wanting to make it bloom. She was wet, achingly so. Feeling bold, he teased a finger into her hot core. She clamped about him, making stars flash before his eyes.
He moaned, wishing it was his cock that had taken her instead.
"Oh yes. Touch me, tease me."
His cock ached, and he could feel himself on the brink of orgasm at her breathy pleas. He fucked her with his hand, pushing her toward a climax they would both enjoy. She clutched at his shoulders, her head thrown back, lost to her pleasure. He kissed her sweet neck, reveling in her scent, her breathy sighs, and pleas for more. She rode his hand, taking all that he made her feel before the first tremors of her release drew at his finger.
Her body milked his digit, and he rubbed her nubbin as the last of the tremors wilted from her.
As the haze of pleasure subsided and Victoria came back to the present, he grinned, knowing he would never tire of the sight of her during climax. "That was unusual, but I do believe we've just covered another act within our sketchbook," he declared, helping her to sit up.
She smiled up at him her eyes hazy with the aftermath of pleasure. She adjusted her gown and settled her skirts about her legs. Her cheeks kissed with a rosy hue, she resembled a lady well-pleased. "Hmm, I do believe you are right, my lord."
He stepped back, and she slid off the desk, reaching up to check her hair.
"Would you like the same service performed on you, Albert? I'm more than willing to touch you here," she suggested, placing her hand on his cock.
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. He wanted her touch. He ached for it almost constantly, but here and now was not the time. As it was, they had risked Victoria's reputation by being here alone.
Should they be caught, she would be forced to marry him, and he did not want their union starting in such a way. He wanted her to willingly marry him or not at all. Of all the times they had been alone, he was surprised that they were not already before a priest.
"Not here. Later," he suggested, taking her hand and walking from the room. Thankfully they did not encounter anyone from the ball, and they returned to Victoria's mama just as supper was announced.
The meal was enjoyable, with fare that would rival the best balls in London. Albert talked and contributed to the conversation, but he could not stop the niggling concern that Victoria would not change her mind.
Was she so determined to cry off marriage, a life with another
