Page 39 of A Bride for the Forbidden Duke
“Your Grace,” she gasped out when she felt a pressure bundling in her stomach. “Your Grace, I?—”
“Let it happen,” he told her, fingers moving from her hips to drive into the flesh of her backside, kneading her further open for him.
There was a bundle of nerves at the top of her folds, and he suckled on it harshly, and Veronica could not hold back her cry of pleasure. The Duke continued his desire to have her so thoroughly undone like this, tied up, against the wall. He alternated between the attention on that bundle and licking her heat.
The combination had Veronica up on tiptoes, pressing herself further into the wall if only to angle her hips further back into him.
And then that pressure grew and grew, until Veronica was frantically yanking at the cravat ends, feeling as though she would spin away had she not had something to hold onto. Her wrists bound, she could only painfully tug so far, but the rough handling of the Duke only served to further push her over the edge.
“Your Grace,” she cried, her legs trembling as he gave one last, harsh suckle, and Veronica saw stars, her head tipping back, and her mouth parting.
Her pleasure drove through her in waves, having her body shuddering, and she gasped out as he continued to lap at her until she hissed. Still, he did not relent, and the harsh attention soon had Veronica buckling against him, her body boneless with her climax.
She ached for more, still, but the Duke pressed his forehead to her thigh for a moment, stood, and worked at the knot of his cravat.
She felt his hard length against her, and she wished for more of it.
But the Duke just released her, and she felt the bare brush of his skin on the inside of her wrists.
Then, he was gone, leaving her breathless and wanting.
Her cheek pressed to the wall, she watched him walk away as she slowly came down from her pleasurable high.
Then she allowed herself to slump limply down the wall, smiling.
Chapter Thirteen
“Lady Sheridan is ready for you in the drawing room, Your Grace,” announced the footman, his hands clasped behind his back.
Veronica whirled around, having been lost in her thoughts at the second-floor window in the music room.
While it was not her favorite room in the house, for the parlor had taken that space, she found comfort and stillness here.
“Thank you,” she said.
He bowed and left the room, and Veronica walked out into the hallway, going towards the drawing room.
As she walked, she looked at the place the Duke had pressed her against only the night before and taken her as if he had been unable to restrain himself any longer. As though a passion hadwelled in him and after so long of avoiding her, it had snapped into that.
Moments before she approached the drawing room, the Duke appeared out of his study, and his eyes locked onto hers.
They had not spoken a word to one another since he had walked away, leaving her so aching she had hurried to her room and pleasured herself again to the thought of his wicked tongue.
She inhaled sharply now at the intention in his eyes.
“Your Grace,” she murmured, nodding her head at him.
“Duchess,” he greeted, “I thought it would be better to enter the drawing room together. It would rouse suspicion if we entered separately.”
“Indeed,” she agreed.
Her heart thumped in her chest, and her body remembered every kiss and every swipe of his tongue.
She struggled to keep down her blush. But he noticed; of course, he did.
“Shall we?” He held out his hand, and she gingerly took it.
They walked into the drawing room together.
