Page 55 of Her Wicked Duke
It was all she wanted.
His finger moved inside her, slow and deliberate. She gasped, clinging to him, as she looked at the size of his length.
She wanted to touch him, and she reached to do so, but he angled his hips away, holding himself.
“Ishall pleasure you,” he said. “You can earn mine.”
He kissed her deeply, her mouth, the corners of her lips, her cheekbones, and then nipped her earlobe. “I told you that good girls get rewarded.”
He slid a second finger inside her.
“Ah!” she moaned.
His palm pressed against her as he slid his fingers in and out of her. “Will you be a good girl for me, Anne?”
Heat seeped through every pore, sinking in her bones, her muscles, and then dripped out of her in a wave of desire as he touched her so intimately, so much that she couldn’t breathe. She’d done this plenty of times with her hand, but it was far different with a man doing it.
And not just any man, but Alexander, with his blue eyes so bright in the darkness of the carriage. He gazed down at her like she was everything to him.
She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled herself up to kiss him, the angle shifting his fingers inside her.
“Have you done this to yourself?” he asked, speeding up his thrusts.
She moaned in response and clung to him desperately.
“Have you done this at night, thinking of me?” His other hand had begun to stroke his length, matching the rhythm of his fingers. “I want to watch you do it one day,” he murmured. “I want to watch you touch yourself when we have more time.”
He did not stop the movement of his fingers for a moment, did not give her a respite, and she would have begged him to continue even if he had. His eyes were hooded and dark as she writhed, trying to grind her hips further against his hand as he slid and curled his fingers inside her.
“So good,” he murmured in her ear. His breathing became ragged as a white droplet of his seed beaded on his tip. He moaned quietly in her ear. “So good for me, Anne. I always knew you would be. I won’t make you wait this time. You’ve been so good. So, so good?—”
“A-Alexander!” she moaned, her voice breaking. “Alexander, I think?—”
“Come for me, Anne,” he said. “I have waited for your release for long enough.”
His words still rang with order and authority even as he talked and talked, and soon, he brought her to a high, shattering climax, muffling her cries with his mouth as his tongue slid against hers. She keened against him, her hips giving little jerks of pleasure as he took his time to slide his fingers out of her.
She couldn’t take her eyes off his fingers, as they shone with her release, and he used that hand now to stroke his length furiously while the other pinned her wrists to the carriage wall.
She felt wicked and delicious, hidden away from any judging eyes, and utterly desirable as Alexander brought himself to a finish while kneeling over her. He came with her name on his lips as he finished on the plush skin of her thighs.
It was wet, not entirely pleasant, but he took care in wiping it away with his stock, which he pulled off his neck.
“Usually, I would not finish so…” He couldn’t find the right word, so he merely gestured toward the mess he’d just cleaned up. “Ah, messily.”
“Where might you finish next time, Alexander?” Anne asked, breathless, but her voice still had a teasing edge to it as she drew her legs back together.
His gaze remained there, as if he knew exactly where he wished to finish next time but would not voice it.
He pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. “Do not push me further.”
But his smile gave him away as he pulled away and helped her sit up and compose herself, before he collapsed back onto the bench and fastened his breeches.
Anne dared to shuffle closer and rest her head on his shoulder as she caught her breath.
Chapter Seventeen
Alexander kissed her again as the carriage pulled to a stop outside Yore House. She did not want to think about if she smelled of him, or how disheveled she might appear.
