Page 37 of Plucked By the Orc

“You might call me Duncan.”

“As I will in most circumstances. But in this situation, I wish to use your title.”

Even as her words took his breath away, his curiosity remained. “I would think we would be on the most intimate terms if you … well …” He gestured helplessly toward the door. If there was anything Duncan detested, it was appearing helpless, and yet Iris Gabbert had made it so. “... if you don’t plan to leave. Given what you’ve seen.”

She stepped forward, the scent of her skin imbued with the lust he would recognize in any woman. Nearly more than he could bear.

“I’ve no plans to leave, your grace,” she said in a low voice. “I enjoy using your title because it lends a touch of danger to this. Rather fancy it, actually.”

It made no rational sense at all, and yet Duncan felt it too, the dangerous tension between them emphasized by their difference in height and the pleasing nature of his formal title on her tongue. Almost as though she were tasting the words. As though she was daring him to use her power over her, while at the same time, she was the one who held complete power over him.

He gathered her small hands in his.

“We are not married, mated, or anything of the sort. In my world, that doesn’t matter. What does matter is asking for a woman’s full consent before proceeding. You might put a stop to this at any point. You will always have full control.”

Iris met his gaze. “If I willingly relinquish it?”

“Then I shall take control. But you can regain it at the slightest word.”

She shivered, though her back remained straight and her features composed.

“That, I would very much like to experience your grace,” she whispered. “What it might mean to relinquish control and cede it to you. Show me.”

He wanted to make sure she understood. His own body was calling for hers so powerfully it caused a tremor in his hand. He hoped she didn’t notice and then realized he didn’t care. It had never been easy for Duncan to expose his vulnerability, but his desire would not be denied.

“I promise to determine what gives you pleasure,” he said. “And exploit it in every possible way.”

When Duncan approached her, Iris hardly dared to breathe. He towered over her, and she randomly supposed that three or four Iris Gabberts might fit inside one Duke of Barrington. She laughed nervously.

He stopped just before her, staring intently but with a crinkle at the corners of his eyes she’d never seen before. “You have changed your mind.”

Did she detect a tremor in his voice? Surely,hecouldn’t be nervous. Iris had only experienced a quick fumble or two with boys she had met in front of the Theatre-Royal at Drury Lane, the type there one minute—selling roasted chestnuts in paper and trying to convince other blokes to guess which cup he’d hidden one of the chestnuts under—and gone the next. At the same time, Duncan must have engaged in this delectable mischief before with all kinds of women, human and orc.

Now that she’d grown accustomed to his appearance, she didn’t know who could resist it.

“I’ve not changed my mind. What do you take me for?” Iris told him. “You said you would show me pleasure. Exploit it, you said.”

She threw her arms around his neck, no mean feat, and he gathered her into his muscular arms. She felt completely enveloped by his massive form. And then his mouth was on hers once more, the prominent incisors just grazing her lips and somehow making the slow, deep kisses even more delicious. Gently, he carried her over to the chaise longue on one side of the room and deposited her atop it, her frock riding up and the velvet cushions brushing her bare skin.

His hand passed over the bodice of her gown, and her nipples responded, hardening to his touch. She groaned, and when he at last released her mouth, she threw her head back, luxuriating in the intense sensations rolling over her. His caress glided over the fabric, and she didn’t think she could bear to be separated from the sensation on her skin any longer. She worked the lace around her corset bodice until it loosened and then guided his hand underneath her shift so that she could feel his huge fingers directly on her.

Drawn to the curving horns nestled in his lush black hair, Iris stroked them. They were as thick and firm as she anticipated and delightfully smooth, with layers of light indentations that had barely been visible.

When she caressed them, he inhaled sharply. Then he kissed her even more deeply, cupping the fullness of each breast in his hands and then moving his lips down reverently onto her nipples, lapping at them and encircling them with his tongue until her most private regions grew wet from lust. She kicked her legs uncertainly, unaccustomed to the intensity of this desire.

It built inside of her in successive waves, each more intense than the next, until it burst through her in a final ecstasy. Then the pleasure pulsed fainter and dissipated like bubbles popping in the air, leaving her panting on his shoulder. He ran his hand back through her hair and kissed the top of her head.

And for once in her life, sensible Iris Gabbert hadn’t a blessed clue what to think.

Chapter Thirteen

Sitting alone in the breakfast room the following morning, and ruminating over what had passed between herself and Duncan the night before, Iris realized she had never acted soinsensibly.

Her thoughts kept returning to the sensation of Duncan’s hands on her naked skin and the throttling pleasure that had coursed through her over and over. She felt tired and renewed at once. Iris had never imagined such was possible. She never imagined any of this, truth be told.

But the more she considered the ecstasy of the previous night, the more she thought that there might be something to be said for being insensible every once in a while.

Iris would gladly have spent the entire night in Duncan’s arms. However, not wanting their intimacy discovered by Clemons or Mrs. Thompson, she kissed him on the cheek while he was still dozing beside her and slipped away to her bedchamber before dawn. After all, a bit of sense never hurts.

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