Page 68 of The Untamed Duke
Nicholas nearly shot out of the chair, his entire body stiff with shock. He buried his hands in her hair, almost painfully, gripping the sides of her head. Large and calloused, his palms nearly covered her entire scalp.
“Jesus Christ!”he groaned, slowly sinking back into the cushion.
Grace’s hair brushed her cheeks and tickled the tops of his thighs. She took more of his massive erection in her mouth, as much as she could manage. Nicholas cursed again. This time beneath his breath. He may have thought of stopping her, but that died a quick death. She’d won the battle, but Nicholas took the field and the day.
Meshed in her hair, fingers tugging the silky strands, his touch morphed into something almost caressing. Holding her with a gentle strength, Grace abruptly realized the balance of power had shifted back into his hands. When next he spoke, his voice was lush and guttural.
“Eyes on me, Grace,” Nicholas commanded. “Eyes on me. Now.”
Chapter 26
Ihate her, although it is impossible
When she keeps my heart hostage
It beats in rapid thumps hoping to escape
Or avoid notice
I curse it
Because it beats for her
~Nicholas August Harris March
Ninth Duke of Richeforte
When Graceslowly glanced up at him, eyes sparkling gold behind a fringe of lush, black lashes, Nicholas felt something inside him crack apart.
Ice. His heart. His soul. He wasn’t sure, but it was profoundly affecting. Even as he reveled in the return of his control, the trust in her gaze humbled him. Made him question every wicked thing he’d ever done in his life. And he realized a very important fact. Grace was special. Not just because she willingly sought ways of pleasing him. No. It went far beyond this momentary pleasure.
She soothed the wildness inside him. Tamed his demons and the monsters living within his nightmares. A touch of her hand, a sweet word from her lips, and he was entranced. Destroyed. Redeemed. He could become a better person. Because of her.
For her.
His little Cornwall storm. His sweet honeybee.
Every male atom in his body tightened with desire, seeing her plush, warm pink lips wrapped so prettily about his cock. Desire and nervous anticipation danced in the depths of her eyes. Nicholas knew he should end this madness. Yes, end it, even though his hands gripped her head, pulling her down as his body thrust up.
Sweet hell… just a few moments more. I’ve dreamed of this since I laid eyes on her. Envisioned her just like this. Taking me deeper...deeper…
A moan emanated from deep inside him. It was plaintive. Mournful. With a jerk of his hips, Nicholas pushed further. It would take but a few seconds to finish him off. Somehow, he buried the domineering streak demanding he take her mouth as he pleased. His hands lowered to Grace’s shoulders, pulling her away.
She snarled. Like a fierce she-wolf guarding her kill.
“Did you just growl at me?” Nicholas breathed incredulously.
Grace’s eyes locked on his, and she hummed a confirmation. Her fingers tightened on his thighs, fingernails digging into the muscles as if she could keep him there with that tiny bit of strength. Her defiance amused him. And inflamed him. A sigh of pure lust hissed between his teeth.
“Grace...stop. You must stop. Before I am overcome and unable to stop.”
She made that intoxicating sound again and nestled closer between his legs. If he really wished it, he could remove her. Could hook his hands beneath her arms, roughly lift her and that decadent mouth away from his body.
Her eyes never left his during the struggle with his conscience. Like the golden stare of a predator, they ensnared him. Hypnotized him. Drawing him into fire and swirling lights. A place where right and wrong mingled until there was no clear answer other than he must have her.
Lazily, Grace licked the underside of his erection, her tongue tracing a vein that tracked the length. “Bloody hell,” he moaned, his hands tightening again in her hair.
Lightning ignited and blazed through his blood, turning him inside out. God above, she still wore her virginal white nightgown. It screamed her innocence. Nicholas shut off his senses to anything other than her mouth pleasuring him. A curse indicated the unraveling of his willpower. With a shuddering breath, he surrendered it.
