Page 62 of His Scottish Duchess

He lifted her into his arms and pulled her higher onto the bed. Catherine clung to him, her body alive with a mixture of lingering shock and a burgeoning desire that she could no longer deny.

He laid her gently on the soft mattress, following her down, his gaze never leaving hers as he dove in for another kiss, their tongues melding together in a slow, sensual battle.

He began to unlace her dress, his fingers surprisingly deft, his eyes filled with a possessive hunger.

“You’ve been so good for me, darling. Perhaps you ought to be rewarded,” he murmured, without taking his eyes off her.

Catherine watched him, her desire mirroring his, hoping he recognized the silent invitation in her gaze for what it was.

Soon, they were both undressed, their bodies pressed together, the heat of their skin a tangible connection in the dimly lit room. Sampson’s touch was no longer punitive but tender, exploring the curves and contours of her body, igniting a fire within her that burned hotter with each passing moment.

“We will be doing something different today,” he whispered to her between kisses, nosing along her jaw. “Do you think you can handle it?”

Catherine nodded, gasping when his hand slid up the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair before he tugged.

“Words, darling,” he prompted, biting her lower lip hard enough for it to sting. “I need your words. Tell me that you want this.”

“I want you,” she told him quietly, her eyes searching his as a haze of yearning settled over her. “I want you, however you want me.”

Sampson grinned and dipped his head so he could kiss her again. “Good. Very good, darling.”

He moved slowly then, positioning them intimately, their bodies intertwined in a way that left Catherine breathless as she sat on his chest.

Her cheeks burned as she stared down at his erect manhood. Confused, she tried to look back at him, startled when he pushed her down by the shoulders and his other hand tilted her hips up.

Then, he licked her folds, and it was all she could do not to crumble on top of him.

“S-Sampson?—”

“My pleasure is your responsibility as well. You must ensure that I feel good, without getting distracted by my ministrations,” he told her, all the while thrusting a finger in and out of her.

Catherine tried to steady her breathing, did her best to understand what he was saying as she returned her gaze to his stiff length.

“B-But how do I?—?”

“Whatever you want. Whatever feels right,” he urged gently, his tone a stark contrast to the way he pushed her down again, lapping at her wetness.

She tried to focus on the task at hand, on the feel of his hardness in the palm of her hands as she stroked him once, twice. Then, as his tongue circled her bud, she couldn’t help but wonder how he would taste. After a moment of uncertainty, she flicked her tongue against the tip, shuddering as he moaned against her sex.

“Good,” he told her. “Keep going. Do more.”

She licked the tip again, going further down his length with every swipe of her tongue. He moaned, the vibrations stirring more heat within her. Catherine soon found herself consumed by the taste of him and the urgent need to please him.

The sensations were so intense and overwhelming at times, and she found herself lost in the moment, her earlier defiance completely forgotten in the throes of passion.

The encounter was both demanding and deeply satisfying, a release of the taut attraction that had been building between them. Catherine, feeling ambitious, thought of trying to take him into her mouth, mimicking the sucking motion on her bud.

He shuddered beneath her fingertips, and she pulled back, her jaw aching from how big he was, but satisfied he was just as affected as she was. It felt good to know she was pleasuring him, momentarily feeling dazed and overwhelmed as his tongue slid between her folds, going as far as it could.

She couldn’t help but grind her sex against his mouth, needing more.

Catherine didn’t even notice she had been moaning for more, her skin slick with sweat as breathless demands left her lips, until he said, “It seems you have forgotten about me, dear wife. That’s not fair, not to mention a violation of the rules.”

“S-Sorry,” she stuttered, refocusing her attention on him.

She used her hands to stroke him for a moment, her saliva providing lubrication, and she took him into her mouth, the tangy, almost bitter taste of him making her moan. She could smell him more intensely here, a heavier concentration of his manliness.

Her jaw began to ache again, but she wanted to make him feel good, wanted to prove to him that she could take care of him as he took care of her. So she went a tad deeper for a moment and swiped her tongue against the base of his erection.

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