The Duke's Sins | ongoing

Hunt Me Down

9~hunt me down

He palmed my nipples through my clothes, the skilful flick of his fingers sending a jolt of electricity down my spine.

Lacing his fingers through my hair, he tugged back, baring my neck to his lips. He pressed hard kisses down my skin, lingering over my throbbing pulse.

With an animalistic sound, he grazed his teeth over the spot—I clutched his collar as he traced the sting with a swipe of his tongue.

"Jaxon," I moaned.

I froze at the slip of my tongue.

A fire lit in his gaze, the primal hue sending another rush of heat flooding into my core. I started at the intensity of his eyes, his bulge obvious against my core.

He growled, "Say it again."

I couldn't. Saying his name would make it so much more real—too personal, too intimate.

I climbed off him. "London," I tried to catch my breath. "Please."

He stood up, his height towering over mine. I squared my shoulders, meeting his dark gaze with my own.

"London it is, then," he whispered, his breath fanning over my cheek.

I wanted to lean into him, let his hands smooth down my skin.

Instead, I stepped back. "Hurry up. I haven't got all day." My voice still shook slightly and I cleared my throat.

The Duke grinned, noticing the effects he had on me—and just like that the gentility was back on his face. He gestured toward the door. "After you, Miss Williams."

•••

We walked into the airport side by side, skipping the queue at the flash of my badge.

"I thought you'd been suspended?"

"I still work for the government. Just without my status as a spy." I replied coldly but even as I spoke, my heart clenched.

I lowered myself into a seat, my knee bouncing up and down as I counted down the seconds to the flight.

An elderly couple sat before us. The woman's hand wobbled slightly on her walking stick as she smiled at the man beside her. They both traced their fingers over a crossword puzzle in a newspaper, listing words.

I tensed, flashing a pointed look at the Duke.

"What?" he whispered.

"For anyone that asks, we're married."

Before he could question, I slipped my hand into my pocket, feeling around for the coldness of metal. It was a simple, gold ring, a yellow loop in my palm.

And then he did something that made my heart stop. He took the ring from my hand, his fingers grazing my palm for a slip-second. Gently holding my hand in his, he slipped the ring onto my finger.

I ripped my hand out of his, glancing at the couple in front of us warily. "What are you doing?"

"I'm simply practising."

"What?" I asked, flummoxed. His answering smirk had me changing my mind. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

An announcement sounded, the electronic voice ringing in my ears.

I stood, grabbing his hand in an attempt to pull me behind him. He yanked back on my hold, my back meeting his front with a hard impact.

"Why the sudden touchiness?"