Chapter 7: The Duke’s Obsession Deepens
1126 Words
The sun filtered gently through the large windows of their bedroom, casting a soft golden hue across the bed where Eleanor lay—still wrapped in Alexander’s embrace.
Her body rested against his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin, while his strong arm lay possessively across her waist, as though he feared she might vanish if he let go.
She was awake now, though she hadn’t moved, afraid that if she did, the spell of last night would be broken.
She could still feel the press of his lips on hers, still taste the fire of his kiss.
It was real.
The kiss she had wondered about, longed for and feared.
But what she hadn’t expected—was how deeply she wanted more.
She shifted slightly, just enough to breathe him in.
Sandalwood, spice, and something that was uniquely him.
Her fingers, careful and light, brushed against his chest, over the soft fabric of his shirt.
And that was when his hold tightened.
"You’re awake," Alexander murmured, voice husky with sleep, vibrating beneath her cheek.
She froze for a heartbeat, surprised he’d woken so easily.
"I—" she hesitated, "yes."
He shifted slightly, leaning back so he could see her face, but never releasing her.
His eyes, still heavy from sleep, roamed over her face—slow, intense, claiming every part of her.
"Did I frighten you last night?"
His voice was softer than she had ever heard it.
Eleanor shook her head, her cheeks heating as the memory of his kiss flooded back.
"No," she whispered. "You didn’t."
A dark, satisfied smile touched his lips.
"Good," he said quietly.
His hand came up to brush her hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek longer than necessary.
"I meant what I said, Eleanor," he murmured, his thumb stroking over her skin. "You’re mine. I won’t let anyone take you from me."
Her heart thudded painfully in her chest.
"I know," she whispered.
His hand slid from her cheek to her neck, fingers splaying gently along her throat as though he needed to feel her pulse, to assure himself she was real and alive.
"And I will give you everything," he added, voice rougher now, lower.
"You don’t have to—"
"I want to."
His eyes darkened.
"I want to give you so much that you’ll never remember what life was like before me."
Her breath caught.
His words were like a vow, dangerous in their intensity but filled with something she was beginning to crave—belonging.
---
By the time Eleanor dressed and followed Alexander to the breakfast room, she was still reeling from his words.
The table was already set with fresh bread, fruit, eggs, and tea.
And as always—Alexander was watching her.
She sat carefully across from him, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks.
But as soon as she reached for the teapot, his hand caught hers gently.
"I’ll serve you," he said quietly.
Eleanor blinked, but let him pour her tea.
When she reached for the bread, he was already holding a piece out to her.
She took it silently, her fingers brushing his.
"You didn’t eat enough yesterday," Alexander murmured, breaking off a piece of bread and setting it on her plate. "You’ll finish all of this."
"I’m not—"
He raised a brow, his sharp gaze locking with hers.
"Eleanor," he said, voice low. "You will eat."
She pressed her lips together but nodded.
She should have been annoyed.
But instead—her heart twisted painfully because no one had ever cared enough to make sure she was fed.
As she ate slowly, Alexander kept his gaze on her, watching every bite, every sip of tea.
And when she finished, a soft, satisfied smile touched his lips that made her chest ache in ways she didn’t understand.
---
Later that morning, Alexander brought her to the gardens.
The air was fresh, filled with the scent of roses and lavender.
Waiting for them near one of the marble benches was Edward—the man she had learned was the butler who raised Alexander.
"Edward," Alexander greeted softly, surprising her by using his first name again—so informal, so personal.
Edward’s kind eyes turned to Eleanor, softening.
"Your Grace," Edward greeted her warmly, bowing slightly. "Welcome home."
Eleanor offered a shy smile. "Thank you."
Alexander kept his hand gently on the small of her back, guiding her forward as if presenting her to someone important.
Edward watched them carefully, then turned to Alexander with a knowing smile.
"You’re protective already," Edward mused quietly.
Alexander didn’t deny it.
"She’s mine," he said simply, glancing down at her with that dark gaze that made Eleanor’s knees weak.
Edward gave a soft chuckle. "So I see."
Then, more gently, to Eleanor, "You have nothing to fear here, my lady. His Grace may be fierce, but he guards those he cares about with everything he has."
Eleanor swallowed hard.
She believed that.
More than anything, she believed that.
---
After their walk, Alexander led her to the library—a massive room filled wall to wall with books.
Eleanor’s eyes widened in awe as she turned in a slow circle.
"You like books," Alexander observed quietly.
She nodded, her hand brushing over the spines of the leather-bound tomes. "I always wanted to read more," she whispered.
"Then you will," he said. "All of these are yours now."
Her eyes shot to his. "Mine?"
He stepped closer, brushing her hair behind her ear.
"Everything in this house is yours, Eleanor," he murmured.
Her throat tightened.
No one had ever given her anything.
And now, he was giving her a library.
A home.
His name.
Himself.
She stared up at him, words caught in her throat.
Alexander leaned down slightly, his forehead nearly brushing hers.
"Say something," he whispered.
Her hands fisted at her sides, fighting tears.
"I don’t know what to say," she admitted.
His lips quirked faintly. "Then don’t say anything."
And before she could think—he kissed her again.
Slow this time.
Gentle.
Not a claim.
Not a demand.
But a gift.
A kiss that told her without words that she wasn’t alone anymore.
That he would give her everything.
As they returned from the library, a young nobleman from a visiting house walked past them and dared to glance at Eleanor too long.
Alexander’s arm tightened instantly around her waist.
His dark eyes narrowed, sharp and cold.
Eleanor felt his body stiffen.
And she realized in that moment—there was no limit to how far he would go to protect her.
She was his.
And if anyone tried to take her—he would destroy them.
---
End of Chapter
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