Page 33 of The Untamed Duke
"Hell will ice over before I beg anything of you, Your Grace."
Nicholas smiled in pity, as if he knew something she did not. "Ah, there she is. My little honeybee, all sweetness and stingers." His lips brushed hers. “It will be such a pleasure breaking you."
“I won’t break,” she gritted between clenched teeth. “I won’t. You’ll break first.”
He grinned, confident and so handsome it made her heart hurt. “We’ll see about that.”
Chapter 12
Grace watched in fascination as his head lowered once more.
Time ceased to exist as Nicholas tormented her flesh, drawing the peaks of her breasts into the heat of his mouth. Biting, licking, suckling. Until a heaviness pooled between her legs and her body no longer seemed her own.
It could have been an eternity or only a minute. It might have been years or the blink of an eye. Grace only knew all of her world centered on him.
When he finally climbed fully onto the bed, settling between her legs and in a looming manner, moved over her, the excruciating sensation of hot skin, the crisp hair of his chest sliding against the sensitive tips of her nipples, ignited her. When he kissed her, his tongue deep in her mouth, her moans overflowed with greedy eagerness. Feeling the rigid proof of his erection between her thighs, she writhed, agitated and burning. Her hips struggled against the limitations set by the restraints. Not to escape, but to get closer. Closer to something she did not understand. Closer to something she craved, something she needed.
Closer to him.
"Will you beg me now?" Nicholas breathed against her lips.
"Never!" But she sounded unsure, even to her own ears.
He chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose in an oddly affectionate gesture. "We've all night."
He slid further down her body, trailing kisses along the flat plane of her stomach. Reaching her navel, his tongue swirled in lazy exploration around its rim. When her muscles contracted, he did it again.
"You're ticklish."
Dear God. She wasn't strong enough to withstand him. He knew it, too.
"Are you ticklish here?" His mouth pressed against her hip. He did not seem to expect an answer, his lips dragging in a train of fire. The raking of his teeth made her jump.
Every nerve strained toward the heat of his mouth, his lips’ firmness, the sting when he nipped the thin skin covering her hipbones. Blood thumped slow in her veins, then fast, then slow again, the erratic tattoo leaving her dizzy.
Nicholas’s hands rested with a light possessiveness on her waist as he crouched between her legs. His chest pressing against the open vulnerability of her body was electrifying. She fought against arching toward him, seeking a relief of the heaviness she felt there. It was a strange, overwhelming ache.
"And what about here?"
Slowly spreading her open, Nicholas found her wetter and hotter than before. He was so still, Grace looked down to discover him staring at the womanly flesh usually concealed by soft, golden curls.
His gaze was riveted on her, and he wore an expression that could only be described as rapt fascination. He regarded her as if she were art, or a priceless possession finally within his hands. When she squirmed in embarrassment, his eyes lifted to meet hers watching him and his groan of approval reverberated through her bones.
"You are so beautiful. Perfect. What am I to do with you, little bee?"
With slow intent, he dragged a finger through the plump folds of her sex. Grace cried out with inaudible despair. His touch was heaven and hell. Heat and lust and sin. It was nothing she should want and everything she desired.
Skimming his fingers along the tender flesh, Nicholas gathered her arousal as if collecting honey from a hive. His own breathing grew harsh, one hand resting on her lower belly, holding her still if she dared move. The heaviness of his hand intensified the flames he coaxed between her legs.
His thumb slyly brushed a hidden button of nerves. "You are soaking wet for me. Do you even understand what that means? You are ready for me."
Grace jerked against the restraints. The words were meaningless, but something in his tone sent a warm flush suffusing her entire body.
When she tried skittering away, he strummed her again. "You cannot hide from me, Grace. I feel you. Growing hotter, wetter. When I stroke a bit faster, do you know what will happen, my little stubborn pet? Your breathing will increase. Your blood will thicken, pulsing harder, your body quickening for my touch. All nerve endings will concentrate here, where my fingers touch you now. Pleasure will build, slowly at first, or perhaps quickly, because, God, you are incredibly responsive for a virgin. When it builds into an unbearable crescendo, you’ll fly. Over the edge of the sun, where you will explode in a shower of a million stars. Do you know what you will do then? You will thank me for showing them to you. You will plead to see them again. And you will. Again, and again. Until you beg me to cease."
Nicholas steadily increased the motion of his hand as he spoke, dipping his fingers in a shallow exploration, his eyes glittering as he watched her reaction. He swirled the wetness around her body’s opening, never going any deeper than the tip of his index finger, just enough to gather the moisture. As if denying himself something he wanted very badly, his teeth clenched, his jaw hard as stone.
Grace’s eyes squeezed shut against the sprinting pleasure. She was spiraling. Nothing could catch her from going over the edge. Sparks illuminated her from the inside out, igniting with the brilliance of a thousand lightning storms until she could not hide...not from him. Or herself.
