Page 9 of A Slumber for a Duke

“Darling, I’m only a man. It would be best to remain still.”

Through his groan, she couldn’t make out all the words he said next, but she heard something about innocence.

“I hope it doesn’t change your opinion of me, but…I’m a widow.”

Andrew’s body stilled, and he pulled away from her. She cringed. She shouldn’t have said anything.

“I’m sorry.” A heavy breath exhaled. “Was it recent?”

“It was not too recent.”

Silence hung around them.

“But it is how I know that this is…alright.” It was the only word that she could think of to say in the moment. She wasn’t courageous enough to ask for what she really wanted. Yes, she really wanted to be warm, but she also wanted to be warmed byhim, and perhaps more. Not perhaps. Definitely. She definitely wanted him and his man parts to warm her on the inside. And if she couldn’t bring herself to say it, her breasts sure could.

They tingled at the thought of arousing him. She marshaled her thoughts. She was a widow. She had engaged in intercourse before. She knew how the male organ worked.

But she didn’t know it could be that big. She felt something large, hot, and hard against her bottom.

A gasp escaped her lips. “Andrew?”

“I’m sorry.” His forehead pushed against her neck.

But she didn’t want him to be sorry. She wanted to rub her backside against him. More specifically, that long, swelling part of him. They both knew that she needed to warm up. That was what she told herself.

She arched her back and stretched against his member. Its pulse beat hard against her, causing her nipples to cry out of neglect. Maybe she could be courageous enough to ask for what she wanted. Only, without words.

Rose reached down for one of his hot hands and slowly brought it up to cover her breast. With her hand over his, she faintly squeezed her breast through his hand.

Through a moan, she heard him say, “Good God, woman, what are you trying to do to me?” But his hand remained in place.

“I need to warm up, Andrew. Please.”

“I’ll do anything to warm you up.” He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. Those delicate lips left their mark there. She would never want to clean that shoulder again. But the mark jolted down her shoulder and rang through her arm. The man was made of magical lips.

Whether she lifted her shoulder up to his mouth, or he brought his magical lips down again would never be determined. Only that the two repeated their contact was enough for Rose to decide that her body needed this man.

He had one hand massaging her breast, and one hand resting on her stomach. She grabbed the one on her stomach and eased it downward. It would be up to him to decide what he would do with her initiative. If he declined this invitation, she wasn’t sure if she would make another. Her heart soared at the revelation that she wouldn’t have to make that decision because his fingers were slowly circling her mound. Tickling her hair and the line of her groin. Her head fell back against his chest and she nuzzled her bottom against his throbbing arousal. Slowly, using only her backside, she rubbed it up from its tip to its base.

“Rose,” he moaned. “Is this what you want?”

Her throat dried up in reply. “Yes, I want you. I need you.” She angled her head back to him. “Kiss me, Andrew.”

She didn’t know what she expected. Would he crash down on her? Devour her? Say no? But instead he fluttered snowflake kisses on her temple, her cheek, and then the corner of her mouth. Once he reached her lips, she could feel his entire body harden. For her. She rubbed at his covered member and could feel it between her cheeks and at her cleft. She knew he was much larger than what she was used to, and she was ravenous to take him inside of herself.

Panting, she rolled over and cupped his face with one of her hands. With her other hand, she pocketed his shaft.

Then her lips met his mouth and immediately opened for him and his slick tongue. Lips clashed and tongues danced. She squeezed his bountiful member and rubbed it up and down until he opened his mouth to growl. But she didn’t relinquish the kiss. She sparred her tongue against his and drank him in, tasting him on her lips, sweet and earthy. Then she navigated her hands through the hair on his chest. His hands were cupping her bottom and fastening her folds around his arousal, which was, oh God in heaven, somehow free of the fabric. She could feel his shaft in her heat, and he was sleek. Steadily, he eased a few strokes up and then down her folds. Lord, with how hard he was he could break diamonds. Yet his movements were graceful and intentional.

La! He found her notch and then using his hand at the base of his shaft, Andrew drew tiny circles around her nub. Her quim trembled at the artistry. This was the work of an aficionado. His hand nestling in her sweetness drove her to dream. Those strong, gentle fingers made her forget the differences between them and only think of the possibilities instead.

Rose let herself dream, if only for the moment.

And as she dreamed, she ground her breasts against his chiseled chest to ease the ache. This man was rock hard yet pure gentleness. Though she knew he was restraining himself for her, she would do everything in her power to break his resolve to go slowly.

She thrust her hands into his hair and pushed her breasts up to his mouth. Without needing further invitation, he drew one of her nipples into his mouth. At his sucking, she gasped at the heat that stoked within her core and meandered through her limbs. Nothing had ever felt this good before.

“God, Andrew. That’s–” she let the thought hang in the air as he pulled the other nipple into his mouth. Giving up sensical phrases, she moaned into his ear and sank her teeth into his neck. She wanted to leave her mark on him, if only for herself to know. If she ever saw him again, she would know the mark and where she had left it. And every time he saw it, for as long as it lasted, he would remember her.

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