Page 10 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
Sheshouldhave been terrified by that threat.
Her dark blue eyesshouldn’thave lit with sudden excitement.
And his cock bloody well shouldn’t have responded so strongly.
She’s here to steal something from ye, even if she wasnae sent by yer enemies.
But goodChrist, what was he or any man supposed to do when she dropped to her knees so eagerly?
Even now she was scrambling to lift her skirts, to gather them all in her arms. “You will enjoy yourself, Fawkes—Mr. MacMillan,” she promised, breathless. “I swear it.”
Aye, that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? For him to spill his seed in her. To get her with child.
Hischild.
But she’d mentioned nothing about her own pleasure.
“Aye, little Ellie, and so will ye,” he vowed, nudging her toward the sofa.
Those swollen lips tugged downward in confusion, as if she didn’t understand his words, but she stumbled obediently toward the piece of furniture. With one hand she kept her skirts gathered above her hips, and she used the other to brace against the back of the sofa.
She raised her arse to tempt him—those white bloomers, edged in lace, looked nothing like a whore’s—and spread her legs.
She was on display for him, and despite his anger at the situation, Fawkes was absolutely going to take what she offered. He was hardly a saint.
With a hand on his cock, he stalked forward, reaching for those bloomers. They were the old-fashioned split ones so he had no trouble pushing the fine fabric to one side. She stiffened as he did so, and Fawkes felt his lips curl cruelly.
No’ so ready for this as ye’d lead me to believe, eh?
But seeing that sliver of skin, revealed by the white cotton…it did something to him. He dragged a pair of fingertips along the cleft of her arse, felt her shiver at his touch. Bending down, he allowed his lips to hover over her core, making sure she could feel his breath.
Sure enough she shifted, uncertain.
“What are you doing?” Although he couldn’t see her, he felt her twisting to try to see over her shoulder.
“Tasting ye,” he murmured, a moment before he allowed his tongue to drag languidly along her slit.
She gasped and jerked away from his ministrations. “No!”
Fawkes merely hummed, giving her a light nip on her arse cheek.
“No, Mr. Mac—” Her words were cut off when she jerked away again. “Just…” Ellie sounded as if she were ready to cry, somehow. “Just put it in.”
Put it in?
Fawkes straightened, one hand still on her arse cheek, the thumb idly caressing her wetness. Up and down, up and down. Each time his touch approached her arsehole, she twitched, but she seemed uncomfortable with his touch the whole time.
“Put it in?” he repeated, tsking even as he worked his cock. “Nae need to be crude, little Ellie. I’m no’ paying ye by the hour. Why the rush?”
“My-My driver is waiting.”
A flimsy excuse.
In one movement, Fawkes reached past her to twitch the curtains aside. “There. Now ye can look for him.”
The single gas lamp in the street cast the street into shadows. The darkness meant that the glass of the window had become a sort of mirror, reflecting Ellie’s shocked expression as she met his eyes in the reflection.
He grinned.
