The Duke Part 5

Summary: Months after learning of his child with Savannah and breaking off his relationship with Beatrix as a result, Bertrand is having trouble enjoying Beatrix’s bachelorette party in Vegas.

Beatrix stood in a corner of the hotel bar, leaning against Liam, his fingers teasingly tracing paths down the back of her sparkling gold dress. She sighed into his chest, her body and mind warm and fuzzy from champagne, her tired legs not wanting to hold her up any longer.

Liam kissed her forehead and leaned back to look her in the eye. “Before we turn in for the night…Beatrix, I hope tonight has been your dream bachelorette party.”

She smiled up at him. “It’s been absolutely amazing.”

He smiled back, pulling her back into his chest. “I’m glad. I wanted it to be extraordinary.” His hand on her back stilled, and his body stiffened slightly in her embrace as he let out a long breath before continuing. “If there is anything else that you want to do on your special night, Bea…speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze involuntarily darted over to the dejected man sitting at the bar. Is he really offering what I think he’s offering?She stared up into Liam’s eyes for a moment, trying to read him.

“Actually…I would like to…”

His eyebrows raised in question as she paused, afraid to continue. “Yes…?”

She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly very dry. “…Have one last fling before we’re married…”

His eyes went wide with surprise. “Oh, I–”

“Wait…” she interrupted, taking a deep breath. “Only if you’re okay with it, of course.”

He nodded, forcing a small smile.  “If that’s what you want…I think you should.” She didn’t miss the small and significant glance he made towards the bar, either.

“You do?”

Liam kissed her fiercely, wrapping his arms around her her possessively, before letting her go with a sigh. “What I want more than anything is for you to be happy. I love you, Beatrix. But that love doesn’t mean I presume to own you…to control you. You’re free to do as you wish.”

Beatrix took his hand in her own, squeezing it gently. “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

He nodded. “The offer stands, for tonight. I’m going to head to bed.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, his voice low and hoarse as his breath tickled her. “And remember, no matter what you decide…” he nibbled her ear, making her gasp. “Tomorrow, you’re all mine.”

He pulled her into another bruising kiss, drawing it out until all thoughts of other men had evaporated and she wanted nothing more than to follow him up to bed. When he finally, reluctantly pulled away, he grinned at her breathless, longing expression.

“Good night, Beatrix.” He walked to the elevators without looking back, her gaze following him until he disappeared around the corner.

“This seat taken?” Beatrix slid onto the bar stool next to Bertrand, not waiting for a response.

He glanced up at her for a moment, then back down into his drink. “Of course not, Your Grace.”

“Oooh, it’s hot when you address me properly. I see why you’ve always been such a stickler for it.”

Scowling, Bertrand finally allowed himself to look her in the eye. “Don’t start, Beatrix.”

She rolled her eyes. “Are you still pretending there’s nothing going on between us?”

“I am not pretending anything. I am fully aware of our history. And I seem to recall rather definitively telling you that it was over.”

Beatrix scoffed. “You sent me one text message. That really felt like a good, definitive ending to you?”

He slammed back the rest of his drink, not meeting her eyes. “You got the message,” he muttered, standing up to leave.

Her hand wrapped around his wrist as if by instinct, her body refusing to let him leave. He scowled down at her and she frowned, releasing her hold. “I’m sorry. Can we talk?”

He looked over his shoulder before taking a tentative step closer to her. “There’s nothing to talk about. I told you to marry the king and you’re doing it. Congratulations.” Beatrix expected him to walk away, but he seemed frozen in place, staring down at her, his eyes burning with…something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Bertrand, I…” she trailed off, looking down at her feet.

“Yes, Lady Beatrix?” His voice still a low whisper, meant only for her.

“I um…Liam said that it was OK if I…” The words wouldn’t come. Every way she could think to say it sounded cheap and sleazy. She wanted to spend one more night in the arms of the man she still loved…that was the truth, but it was too much to admit. Not now.

Bertrand’s sudden laugh was grating and cruel. “Of course. Only you, Beatrix, could have the king so wrapped around your finger that he’s willing to entertain your little whims, you insatiable harlot.”

She stood up from her stool, now standing dangerously close to him, staring him down. “I preferred ‘Your Grace’.”

He moved even closer, not bothering to check over his shoulder this time. “Well I prefer to not be toyed with by my country’s future queen.”

Emboldened, Beatrix closed the gap between them, pointedly pressing her hips to his to feel his obvious arousal. “You sure about that? Because it feels like you can’t wait to get down on your knees for your queen.”

He was the one grabbing her wrist now, dragging her towards the elevator bank, failing to suppress his own grin. She followed wordlessly, glancing around to see if anyone was noticing their hasty exit, when her eyes connected with Maxwell’s across the room. He frowned and looked away.

A flash of anger struck Beatrix as she watched Maxwell pretend not to see them. You’re the one who ruined this, she screamed at him in her mind. Who the hell are you to judge me for trying to hold on to some small piece of what we had?

She tried to put Maxwell out of her mind as Bertrand pulled her into the elevator, pinning her up against the wall with his body before the doors could even slide closed. His hand found the bottom hem of her dress immediately, sliding up to the top of her thigh as he kissed her fiercely, possessively. The rest of the world melted away as she gave in to him, his familiar taste on her lips helping her forget for the moment all the pain he’d caused her, all that shit she’d spent the past three months trying to move past. Her body responded to his like it always had, her nerve endings on fire everywhere his hands and lips traveled.

Abruptly he pulled away, turning towards the doors as they neared their floor. “Compose yourself,” he commanded, his back towards her as she straightened her dress and smoothed her hair in a daze.

As soon as the doors opened he strode purposefully down the hall, not looking back to see if she was following. Beatrix kicked off her heels to keep up with his determined pace and nearly barreled right into him when he stopped suddenly in front of his room. She held her breath as he pulled out his wallet to find his key card, biting her lip in anticipation as he opened the door.

She was on him as soon as the door started to swing shut behind them, her legs around his waist and her hands behind his head, pressing him into her desperate kiss. Bertrand stumbled backwards but caught himself against a wall, bringing his hands up to hold onto her hips as he moaned into her mouth. “Bea,” he groaned when she finally broke the kiss to catch her breath.

“Yes, Your Grace?” she answered sweetly, looking up at him through her lashes.

“I…fuck…” He trailed off as she dropped her feet to the floor, then slid down his body as she lowered herself to her knees in front of him.

“Such language, Duke Ramsford,” she purred teasingly as she undid his belt. “I would have expected a little more decorum from you.”

His only response was a deep groan as she freed his length and wrapped her lips hungrily around it. He braced himself against the wall behind him, slowly circling his hips to thrust gently into her soft, warm mouth.

Beatrix’s eyes snapped open when she felt him stop moving against her. “Get up,” he groaned when she met his eyes. She let him slip out of her mouth.

“Get up?”

Bertrand nodded. “I can’t have the queen of Cordonia on her knees for me. It’s not proper.”

Beatrix rolled her eyes. “Well luckily for you, I’m not the queen for another couple of days.” She leaned forward to resume her task but Bertrand leaned down and grabbed her chin, stilling her.

“I said no. I’m here as your loyal servant, Your Majesty.” He pulled her to her feet, hand still holding her chin as he pulled her into a kiss. It was more gentle this time, a slow, sensuous kiss, comfortable and unhurried. Beatrix felt a familiar tug in her chest, that unnerving mix of lust and longing and deep, sincere affection. She pulled away, suddenly unnerved by the intensity of her feelings.

“Bea,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers. “Are you alright?”

“I’m…” she let herself stare into his deep brown eyes, and suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of saying anything that might make him stop. She shook off her apprehension and switched to a lower, more commanding tone. “Show me how you will serve me.”

His eyes still locked on hers, Bertrand cupped her cheek in one hand as the other wrapped around to her back, slowly unzipping her dress. Beatrix turned her face slightly to take his thumb into her mouth, gently sucking and nipping at the tip of it with her teeth. He groaned and slipped it further into her mouth, letting her suck on it as he slipped her dress off her shoulders with his free hand until she was left standing before him in nothing but her underwear. She grinned at him, glad she’d worn her best lingerie set today…for Liam, but the night hadn’t worked out that way…and Bertrand nodded his approval.

Wordlessly he crouched down, biting at her nipple through the lacy black fabric of her bra as his hand glided unhurried down the side of her body, taking its time to slip down beneath the waistband of her panties, pausing there as her breath hitched and she moaned around his thumb. He pulled it out of her mouth, moving his hand instead to her breast where he slipped it under the fabric of her bra to tease her soft flesh.

Bertrand pushed Beatrix back against the wall as he tugged her panties down to her ankles. His hand trailed a line up from the soft skin at the inside of her ankle all the way up to her aching core, softly stroking her outer lips before parting them to slip two fingers in side of her. She quivered at his touch, fighting to keep her legs from buckling as he started to move his fingers inside of her, teasingly slow.

“Bertrand,” she moaned, moving her hips against his hand.

“My queen,” he answered, his eyes burning into hers as he gazed up at her from down on his knees. His thumb began circling her clit and she let out a sound between a shriek and a gasp. He grinned. “You’re sensitive tonight.”

“Yes,” was all she could manage in response. “Yes!” she repeated as she threw her head back, banging it against the wall but not caring.

As her legs began to shake, Bertrand withdrew his hand. She let out a soft mewl of protest but was cut off by his mouth capturing hers once more. As they kissed, she pushed his jacket off his shoulders and pulled apart just enough to tug his turtleneck over his head.

“I want you,” Bertrand growled, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against his body.

“I’m yours,” she whispered, then added a little too late: “…for tonight.”

Something dark clouded his expression, but it passed so quickly she wasn’t sure she’d seen it. “Turn around,” he ordered, releasing his hold on her. She complied without question, turning to press her cheek against the cool wall of his hotel room, waiting patiently for his next move.

She was starting to doubt that he was going to do anything at all when finally his hand grazed the small of her back, trailing a soft path up towards her bra, which he promptly unfastened. Both his hands were on her now, so soft, so slow as he slid them over her shoulders and down her arms. She shivered as her last piece of clothing fell to the floor, her breasts pressing against the wall.

His hands moved back to her shoulders, holding her in place as he pressed his warm body against hers. His erection pressed into her lower back. “Hmmm…” he tried to lower himself but couldn’t quite get the right angle to go any further.

“I’ve got an idea,” Beatrix chirped, spinning to give him a quick peck on the lips before collecting her stiletto heels from where she’d dropped them next to the door. Bertrand watched, silent and focused, as she buckled the delicate sparkling straps around her ankles, adding several inches to her height. She returned to her position pressed against the wall, smirking back at him over her shoulder.

“Excellent thinking, Your Grace,” he said softly as he wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing and lightly nibbling at her neck. She sighed contentedly, leaning into him.

“You seem different tonight,” she confessed, enjoying his light caresses, his lavish attention on her body.

His hands stilled, his head resting against her shoulder. “I suppose I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

Beatrix laughed bitterly. “You pushed me away.”

“I…” he trailed off, his hands beginning to roam again as he collected his thoughts. “I made a mistake.”

“Bertrand…oh!” He hooked his hand under her knee, lifting it to give himself better access to her entrance. He slid his cock slowly into her, pinning her against the wall as he buried himself inside her.

Beatrix teetered on one high heel, relying on Bertrand to hold her up as he rocked into her. One arm held her leg up while the other wrapped firmly around her waist, controlling her movement along with his own. She gave herself over to the familiar feeling of giving over control to him, letting him set the pace at which he thrust his hips, grinding deep inside her.

Beatrix gasped at the tingling sensation brewing low in her abdomen, crying out in ecstasy as it grew and exploded like fireworks inside of her body. Bertrand gave one last powerful thrust, letting himself collapse against the wall with Bea’s body sandwiched in between as he groaned through his orgasm. He released her leg but otherwise neither made a move, standing frozen against the wall and panting with exertion for a long moment.

“Bed,” he finally suggested, walking across the room and climbing under the covers. Beatrix followed him, still dizzy from the intensity of their lovemaking. She rested her head on his still-heaving chest as he pulled the blankets around her gently.

The noise from down on the strip floated up to Bertrand’s suite, even at this height. They laid in silence, listening to nothing but the distant crowds and the soft purr of the air conditioner. Finally Beatrix spoke. “You made a mistake?”

“Hmmm?” Bertrand answered, half-asleep.

“You said you’d made a mistake.”

“Oh…yes.” His face scrunched up in pain but he offered no further explanation.

“Bertrand…please. Just tell me how you feel. You know that I care for you.”

He let out a long sigh, pulling her closer to him. “I made a mistake by falling for you. I never should have interfered with your courtship of the king. I just…got carried away.”

Beatrix bit back the tears that threatened to fall. She wanted to stand up and storm out, to slap him for his thick-headedness, but she didn’t dare let him see how wounded she was by his words. “OK,” she said simply, worried that if she attempted any more words they would be accompanied by unwelcome sobs.

After several more minutes of silence, Beatrix stared blankly out the window as Bertrand’s chest rose and fell slowly with his soft snores. She shook him gently awake. “Bertrand?”

“Mmm…yes?” He wiped groggily at his tired eyes.

“What happened with you and Savannah?”

His body tensed under her. “Nothing. I’m helping with Bartie but her and I are not involved.”

“What did you do?”

“Why do you assume that I did something wrong?”

“Because you definitely did.”

He sat up, forcing her to do the same. “You should go. Liam will come looking for you in the morning.”

Beatrix wordlessly started to gather her clothes from the floor, ignoring Bertrand as she dressed. She flinched away from his touch when he came up behind her to zip up her dress. “I can do it myself,” she snapped.

He hovered next to her as she straightened herself, frowning. “I could walk you to your room?”

“Don’t bother,” she seethed, reaching for the door handle.

“Beatrix, stop!” His hand was over hers, stopping her from pulling the door open. “Why are you so angry with me? This was your idea.”

She let out a long hiss of breath before looking back at his face. “I chose you, you colossal idiot. I wanted you. I was hurt and alone and you and your brother were the only people there for me through it all, and then you just bailed on me, and for what? For a woman who doesn’t even want you.”

He flinched at her words, releasing her hand. “I…I didn’t…”

“Don’t you dare say you didn’t know. I told you. You were so concerned with elevating your own house’s status by pawning me off on the king that you never stopped to think about what I want. Our relationship was always the least important thing to you.”

“Th-that’s not…I never…” He stumbled to find the words to defend himself.

“Congratulations, Bertrand. You bet on the right horse. I’ll be queen in a matter of days and you’ll be able to brag about your successful sponsorship. I hope you enjoy your accolades.”

“I…I was just doing what was best for you. Would you have really rather married me? Be the duchess of a failing and destitute house, when King Liam was ready to give you everything? Don’t be stupid, Beatrix.” He opened the door for her, gesturing for her to leave. “Get back to your room before your fiancé takes offense to this wholly inappropriate dalliance.”

She took one step into the hallway before spinning back around to face him. “You really are the most frustrating man I’ve ever known.”

Bertrand quickly checked the hallway before wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her against him. “And you, Your Grace, are the most infuriating woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.” He kissed her ferociously, but stopped much too soon.

“Good-bye, Beatrix.”

She stood breathless, staring in shock as the door closed in her face.