Page 68 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
He gently took pins out of her hair until it fell in a heavy rush down her back. His fingertips traced down the curve of her brow to take a length of hair and bring it to his nose. He closed his eyes as he inhaled, and her stomach tumbled over itself. The mere scent of him caused her belly to swirl pleasantly. Was it the same with him?
Before she realized her intention, she was talking. “I went into D.R. Harris last week on the pretense of buying my father a birthday gift, but really I wanted to find your cologne.”
He gave her a slow grin. “Did you find it?”
“No, and Mrs. Barnes disapproved.”
The strand of hair slid out of his fingers as he reached down again, only this time when his hands grasped herbottom, he lifted her against him. “Oh!” His laugh vibrated through her as he walked with her to the sofa before the hearth. Then he sat down and placed her on his lap. He hardly gave her time to get her bearings as he buried his face in her neck and his teeth raked pleasantly against the sensitive skin there as he said, “She would likely faint if she could see us now. Take this off.” He tugged at the buttons of her wrapper.
Her fingers went to immediately tug them loose, and when his hand found her breast again, she sighed in near relief. With only her nightgown as a barrier, she could feel the heat of his palm. The soft cambric rasped against her skin as he pinched her nipple in a gentle rhythm that had answering darts of pleasure coursing through her body. The swell of the delicate flesh between her thighs had her shifting restlessly on top of him. Soon, even that wasn’t enough. She wanted nothing between them.
Her hands returned to her nightdress, trembling with her need to have him touch her. Gently, his own steadier hands brushed hers aside, completing the task with minimal time and effort. She could only watch as he smoothed the fabric off her shoulders, baring both of her breasts to him. She had never been this exposed to anyone, but watching his eyes darken with longing and need, she didn’t feel shy or embarrassed.
He moved slowly and with intention, sliding out from beneath her and pressing her back to lie on the sofa as he leaned over her. As if it existed on instinct alone, her back arched, pressing upward as he leaned down to lavish attention on first one breast and then the other. She didn’t even try to stop the soft cry of pleasure that escaped her with the first tug of his mouth. When he shifted, she moved with him, spreading her thighs in the tangle of too much fabric to allow his heavy thigh to rest between them.
The cool air of the room touched her calf as his hand found its way beneath her nightdress. The hem slid higher as he leaned over her, resting a forearm on the sofa above her. She was held riveted by the intense desire in his face as he stared down at her.
“I want to touch you, August.” He didn’t ask, but the request was there in the slow perusal of his fingers on the inside of her knee.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt as if she couldn’t take a solid breath, but she wanted him to touch her. Nodding, she let her foot drop to the floor, opening herself wider to him. He smiled and kissed her the very moment his fingers delved between the lips of her sex. She gasped against his mouth.
The tip of his finger dipped into her, drawing forth the hot need from her body and smoothing the liquid heat over her swollen flesh. She had read about the clitoris before, in a book she had found beneath her brother’s bed almost ten years ago. It had taken her all this time to understand what it was that she had read. A tide of need rose within her as his clever fingers moved in a soft but firm rhythm, causing her body to clench around emptiness. “Evan,” she whispered.
She closed her eyes and pressed her face to his arm as her hips arched up to his touch. One finger gently thrust into the emptiness, she could feel herself clench around him, but it was almost as if her body was out of her control. It responded on instinct based in pure need. “Please,” she said as it moved in and out of her.
He answered her request by pushing in another finger, stretching her with a slightly burning pain. He rested there without moving, allowing her to become accustomed to the invasion, as the heel of his hand put firm pressure on the swollen ache of her clitoris. His mouth lazily moved downward, kissing her ear, the hollow of her throat, her breast. His tongue teased her nipple, circling it and laving it until he growled and took it into his mouth, plunging his fingers into her as he did so. She nearly came apart at the sensation that sent tunneling through her. And this time he didn’t stop. His fingers continued thrusting until the slight burn had been replaced by ripples of pleasure that begged to be fed. She moved her hips beneath his touch, searching for more, and when he shifted so that his thumb could brush over her clitoris, she exploded. Waves of ecstasy crashedover her in a seemingly endless tide until she lay limp beneath him.
She had no idea how much time had passed before she became aware of herself again. It couldn’t have been long. Her heart still pounded, and she had yet to catch her breath. He held her against his side, and somehow they had shifted so that she half lay on top of him, her leg wantonly thrown over his. She should have been concerned that her nightdress was still up around her hips, or that his hand—the same hand that had brought her pleasure—rested on her thigh. Or she might have been concerned that her breasts were still bare. None of that mattered.
He smiled at her and brushed the tip of her nose with his. “You’re beautiful when you come.”
Her cheeks flamed. “Is that what you call it?”
“Yes.” He shifted, pulling her fully on top of him, and grabbed her buttocks. She started at the intimacy, and the way his hands molded her to him, spreading her, taking control of her. It felt foreign and forbidden, but also exhilarating and visceral. Honest and primal. He bucked upward, pressing the hard ridge of his shaft against her feminine flesh.
While she had been momentarily sated, her curiosity about him was insatiable, and her body answered that need with a fresh wave of arousal. Testing her effect on him, she moved her hips, grinding herself against him. A masculine groan of desire was pulled from deep in his chest.
Surprising herself, she reached between them and laid her palm against his length. He closed his eyes, seeming to savor her touch. “What do you call this?”
One piercing blue eye opened to focus on her. “A cock,” he answered in no uncertain terms.
The word itself sounded deliciously vulgar. She might have blushed had they not already done things that were beyond blushing. She squeezed and watched the pleasant sensation wash over his face. She did it again and he gasped, “Christ, August.” His breath was heavy on her, but he didn’t pull away. As she learned the shape of him, his hips jerked, and he thrust against her hand. His lips parted and then his jaw clenched tight, his hands fisting in thefolds of her nightgown as he squeezed his eyes shut and drew taut as a bowstring against her.
Finally, his hand covered hers and his voice was a harsh whisper as he said, “My God, I want all of you.” Amazingly, this man who was vastly more experienced than she gazed up at her with an expression of wonder on his face. His free hand brushed a strand of hair back from her face, and his fingertips touched her lips in awe. “We have to stop now.”
“But I don’t want to stop.” Her words surprised them both. However, she knew they were true as soon as she heard them. She didn’t want to wait to have him. She didn’t want their first time together to be in a marriage bed that had been arranged by her parents’ schemes. She wanted it to be now, after the most intimate moment of her life. She wanted it on her own terms.
“There will be time once we are married.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side so that he was seated, taking her with him to straddle his lap. His arms went around her, holding her close so that she thought he meant to pick her up and walk with her back to the table, but he simply held her. She was exhilarated to see that his fingers trembled as he cupped her cheek. “You do not have to give me your maidenhead, not until you’re ready. Our wedding night, a month later... a year later.”
“I want to have this night for our own. No families. No negotiations. Only us.” His expression seemed to sharpen with need as he understood she was serious. Desire and decorum seemed to be at war within him, the fighter and the gentleman. The two sides she had only begun to discover existed with him. How she hoped the fighter won out in this. To ensure that it did, she kissed him.
He gripped handfuls of her nightdress and wrapper and broke the kiss only long enough to pull them both off over her head in one fell swoop. Then he wrapped his arms around her and held her flush against him as he devoured her mouth. Sothisis how it felt to be naked in his arms. Where he was hard, she was soft, and where he was lightly furred, she was smooth. She moved, testing and liking the way the hair on his chest scraped against her nipples.
He grinned against her lips and plucked a nipple with his thumb and forefinger. Pleasure throbbed from her nipple to her core. “You like being touched. How fortunate, because I like touching you.”
Releasing her nipple, his hand molded itself to her as it moved down to dip between her spread thighs and find her wet. She bucked against his hand as he grazed her still-swollen flesh. He played with her until she was writhing and aching for him to fill her again. Only when she reached desperately for the fastenings of his trousers did he release her to help.
His cock sprang free, rising up toward his navel as he shifted upward to push the trousers down. He froze as soon as she touched him. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it hadn’t been this impossible length of male that felt hot and smooth as silk against her palm. It did not give as she stroked it, holding itself strong and proud.
