Page 95 of The Untamed Duke
~Nicholas August Harris March
Ninth Duke of Richeforte
Nicholas’s heart twisted,finally understanding the reality of what Grace had given him. Herself. All that she was. He understood at last because now he wanted to give her the same. Everything.
Taking her wrist, he pressed his lips to the underside of it, where the skin was so fragile, so thin, and her veins traced blue in a network of tiny lines beneath the gold bracelet.
“You are mine, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “I am yours.”
He pulled her nightgown over her head and quickly discarded the sleeping pants he wore. “And you love me.”
“Yes. I love you. You love me too.”
“God. You have no idea how much.” His hands skated down her flanks, smoothed over her hips, then gripped her plump buttocks. Pulling her firmly against his erection, he whispered, “I want to make love to you.”
Grace sighed in agreement. “Yes. I want that too. Please, Nicholas.” Her mouth sought his, hungry and wild and sweet while he rubbed against her body. The friction, the glide of flesh against flesh, hardened steel against soft heat intensified the longing burning so bright between them.
“Sit up, my love,” Nicholas murmured. “Climb on top of me.”
When she was situated just as he wanted, her legs spread, straddling his muscular thighs with his cock rising against her lower belly, he sucked in a breath. He’d never seen a lovelier sight in all his life than Grace astride him, her eyes heavy with pleasure and anticipation, her magnificent breasts rising and falling with each shallow breath. She waited patiently for his instruction, her strong, yet delicate hands braced against his chest, and Nicholas found his mind so full of imagery, he was momentarily struck dumb.
“Nicholas?” Her tone held the slightest uncertainty, her brow furrowed just enough to cause a crease.
“Shhh,” he admonished, smoothing a hand down the valley between her breasts, pleased when she closed her eyes on a shuddering exhalation, swaying slightly with his touch. “You’ve no idea how incredibly gorgeous you are. How you make the blood sing in my veins just looking at you. Grace, Grace, Grace. Somehow, you became my everything when I thought I needed nothing.”
She smiled at him, lashes lowered just enough so he could see the kaleidoscope of gold in her eyes.
“Touch yourself, Grace. Imagine your hands are mine, your fingers my own. Caress every inch of you that belongs to me.”
His husky whisper made her eyes widened. She bit her lower lip, and when Nicholas nodded encouragement, her hands lifted. Cupping her breasts, her fingers spread to support the plump weight.
“Sweet fires of hell.”
Nicholas’s choked curse spurred Grace on. With a shy smile, her hands molded the firm globes until peachy hued nipples peeked between her fingers. When she squeezed, gently at first, then harder, whimpering as sensations coursed through her body, Nicholas moaned, remembering the first time he envisioned this. That night on Calmont Down’s garden terrace, when she boasted of her outstanding riding abilities. Nicholas had imagined her then, riding him, pleasuring herself. And now it was a reality.
“More,” he croaked, hoping she understood his garbled direction.
Grace hesitated, but her hands glided down the planes of her body obediently, encountering the tip of his cock before reaching the junction of her thighs. Forming a circle with her palms, she watched him while she caressed and molded his hardened flesh, encircling the crown, trailing fingertips down the underside of the shaft until Nicholas thought he might lose all control or die from pleasure.
“Stop. Bloody hell, you must stop before I take you right now,” he muttered, reaching up and tucking her hair back behind her ear. “Touch yourself, Grace. I want to see you touch yourself. Your fingers on your folds, between your thighs, in the midst of those sweet, golden curls. Yes, love. Like that...just like that...don’t stop until I say…”
Nicholas watched in rapt fascination when her thick, sable eyelashes fluttered down, brushing the tops of her flushed cheeks as she watched her own hands. She couldn’t keep her gaze away from the space between her legs. She was wet, so wet she glistened in the firelight, fingers shimmering as if dipped in morning dew, shadows and light dancing across her body as she transported herself dangerously close to an orgasm. Nicholas knew she was close, he knew her signs, the erratic pattern she breathed, the pretty flush suffusing her skin, the unfocused, dreamy look her golden eyes contained, the tense softness in her bones, as if she were held together with the softest of feathers. Jesus, he was going to come just watching her.
He could take no more. Threading their fingers together, he dragged both their hands through the soft curls and the damp, silky folds of her sex. Controlling her fingers with his, together they pinched the tiny, swollen bundle of nerves hidden there. Grace cried out his name in release, falling forward against his chest, her lush mouth finding his and sharing a ravenous kiss.
“The condoms…” he finally said, but Grace’s head lolled side to side, her words running together in a delirious chant while pressing kisses to his throat and chin.
“No, no. I want you inside me. All of you. Just you, nothing else. Please, Nicholas. Please.”
Immediately, Nicholas lifted her, resettling her so his sex thrust inside her body. She was still riding her climax when he sheathed himself inside her, her flesh so snug and tight around him, he felt dizzy. He felt her stretch in accommodation, felt her pulsating, her heartbeat struggling to find its rhythm, and the knowledge made him swell even larger. Harder. God above. He was about to burst, and Grace was whimpering in delight.
“Oh god. Nicholas...it’s so...oh.... oh god.”
“Yes, love. I know. I know. Move like this. Let me show you…. here, like this.” He pushed her so she sat completely upright, then slid her forward until that sensitive little button of nerves hidden behind the curls hit just the right angle on his body. The resulting friction sent a shower of sparks down upon them both. “Yes...Grace...yes…”
His words became more guttural, but it was all so delicious and wondrous and magical, he couldn't stop from rocking her hips again and again over his. Over and over until her inner channel clamped greedily about him and all the blood in his body rushed to that area where he invaded her.
