Page 48 of Wedded to the Forbidden Duke
“Yes,” Cecilia said pleasantly. “It is almost difficult to imagine a more well-matched pair, wouldn’t you agree?”
His brow raised. “Almost?” he asked lowly.
Her smirk broadened slightly. “Well,” she replied, “I can perhaps think of one. Perhaps even one sitting right at this very table.”
The candlelight danced across her cheek, her collarbone, her bosom. When she took another sip of wine, she held his gaze the entire time, licking her lips afterwards, in a way that made him swallow with desire.
Oh, yes. When the night was over, he would certainly have to teach her a lesson or two.
Chapter Twenty
After waving goodbye to their guests, it seemed Ian and Cecilia were in silent agreement to return to her chambers as quickly as possible.
Ian shut the door to the bedroom, and immediately pulled Cecilia in closer.
She allowed herself to be pulled into him. Never before had he kissed her so passionately. It seemed that her teasing game had, indeed, had the intended effect, to whip him up into a lustful frenzy so strong he could not help but press her against the wall, pinning her with hands and hips.
When she reached up to pull him closer, he grabbed her hands, pinning them above her head before kissing her more deeply still.
“Keep them there,” he said darkly, his eyes twin pools of lust.
She obeyed, staying still as his hands roamed her body, tracing over the seams of her dress. He just barely brushed his fingers across the bits of exposed skin where fabric met flesh, at her bosom, her neck, her wrists, until she could hardly keep still anymore.
“If you are having difficulty figuring out how best to take off my gown,” she said, making her tone as sweet as possible, “I am certain I would be happy to give you some help.”
His eyes darkened even further at that. “I believe I shall manage just fine,” he replied, before all but tearing the fabric off of her. Layer by layer, dress and stays and shift alike, his dexterous hands nimbly untied and undid and lifted off of her body with such hunger, she found herself almost shaking with desire from the slight brushes of his hand alone.
The air was cool against her newly bared skin. She longed to do the same to him but remained mindful of his order to keep her hands above her on the wall. While she was happy to tease him in every other way available to her, it stoked the fires of lust high within her to see how far she could get away with teasing him so long as she followed that one command.
To that end, she looked up at him through her lashes. “This seems rather unfair,” she said. “Quite unequal. Am I not to be allowed to return the favor?”
“What makes you think that was a favor to you?” he said. “Perhaps it was entirely selfish. I want only to enjoy the sight ofmy ravishingly tempting wife as God made her, after a long and difficult day of being denied such a sight.”
“Oh, such a long and difficult day,” she cooed. “Was it really? The poor, unsuspecting Duke of Harwick, famed rake of London, tortured by the mere presence of one woman?”
“You underestimate your own power, it seems,” he said. “Greatly.”
“Not at all, my lord.” She sucked in a sharp inhale as he ran his hand up along her thighs, stroking up towards that most sensitive of places. “But I must say, I am enjoying your response more than I could have even hoped.”
God, but his hand felt good between her legs. Within a few moments, she found her thighs beginning to tremble; but every time she bucked slightly into his fingers, his other hand pressed against her hips, holding her in place against the wall. Above her head, her fingers twitched.
When he finally kissed her again, it was a great relief to be able to touch him at all. They mouthed at each other hungrily, lips and tongue exploring those of the other. Combined with the steady rhythm of his hand against her sex, it was only a matter of time before she was moaning, writhing against him, approaching that edge. When she was close, she lost herself for a moment, allowing her hands to drop to his neck and trying to pull him in closer.
His response was swift and devastating. Scarcely had she allowed herself to touch him, when he suddenly picked her up and tossed her gently onto the bed, where she was unable to touch him at all.
She let out a sound of protest. However, any and all words died swiftly on her tongue at the sight of him approaching, stripping himself of his shirt and breeches as he climbed up towards her.
He kissed his way across her stomach, worshipping her waist and hips with lips and tongue and strong, lustful hands before he moved down to continue teasing her thighs.
“You drove me near mad tonight,” he growled against her skin. “Do you realize that?”
Her fingers tightened in his hair. “I think that was rather the point. It is you who called it a game, after all.” She tugged, forcing him to look up at her, and a small smile rose to her lips. “Since you are behaving rather madly—does this mean I am winning? Is this my prize?”
Those deep, piercing blue eyes darkened further with unshakable hunger and lust. In a quick movement, so quick she almost did not realize what had happened until after he had already done it, he hooked each of his arms under each of her legs, so that her legs were over his shoulders, knees bracketing his head.
“I should think you deserve more punishment than prize,” he said, before burying his face in her heat.
He licked up the center of her, eliciting a moan as she felt the drag of his tongue against her aching core. It was half lick and half kiss, hot and open-mouthed, and she found her fists curling in the sheets when he stopped just short of the sensitive nub at the top of her sex.
