Page 72 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
“Breathe,” he murmured. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”
She bit back a moan before she stopped silencing herself, stopped holding herself back.
Hesitantly, Eleanor forced herself to relax, but when she struggled, his lips captured hers in a way that felt comforting,safe, and familiar. He shifted his hand beneath her skirt, and the ache there only grew, her hips bucking against him.
“See how you react?” he murmured.
She wondered at this man, who spoke so authoritatively yet was so tender, so patient.
“See how you crave my touch? Do you, Eleanor? I can bring you earth-shattering pleasure that will have your knees trembling, that will have your legs unsteady when I take you back to the ballroom.”
“Please,” she whispered, pulling back long enough to meet his gaze.
“Tell me you want it,” he urged. “I need to hear you.”
“I want it,” she admitted, her face burning. But she did not feel humiliated, only uncertain. She did not know how to feel unashamed to feel such desire. “Beneath your touch, I feel safe. I want more of it. I want you.”
“And you will have me,” he promised.
And then he took her lips in another searing kiss. Eleanor went still as she felt something slideinsideher, pressing in a seeking way into her core.
Her fingers gripped his biceps, feeling the thick, strong muscles beneath. She gasped as he slid deeper into her.
“Spencer,” she choked out.
Her body opened for him, yet she could feel her walls clenching around him at the same time, as if they did not know how to react.
“Does it feel good, darling?”
“Youfeel good,” she moaned, leaning into him.
The closer she got to him, the more shefelthim. She knew enough about how the human body reacted in such moments, but learning and feeling were very different things.
And what she felt was… a lot better than she had expected.
Spencer continued sliding in and out of her, that single digit keeping a steady pace as she adjusted to the strange fullness.
She let out more moans as the pressure in her core grew further, as she felt his finger slide through her slickness.
“Heavens, you are soaked,” he rasped, his finger sliding faster, making her breathless. She clung to him, her nails digging into his tailcoat. “What is it that is making you so aroused? Is it thelack of privacy? The fact that anybody could come in here at any moment and find me opening you up like a rose?”
Eleanor’s breath stuttered.
“Or,” he continued, steadily working her. She was barely lucid, lost in pleasure. “Perhaps it is how I speak to you. You like to tease me, but I told you that I will always play your game tenfold. Tease me more, Duchess, and you will find that my tongue can be more wicked than my fingers.”
To drive his point home, he slid two fingers into her on his next thrust, and she cried out. The sensations were overwhelming, and she could feel how soaked she was. It coated the inside of her thighs.
Her hips bucked against him. Spencer’s palm pressed against the bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex, driving her pleasure higher.
“But my conclusion,” he said, his voice thick with desire, “is that it is everything. That you have wanted me as long as I have wanted you. That you have noticed me since the beginning. Since we lay together in that roadside inn. I noticed how you looked at me. Do you think of that often?”
A whine caught in her throat as she nodded.
“Tell me,” he demanded, still thrusting into her, faster now. Fast enough that she struggled to think.
A moan fell from her lips. Her dress was bunched around her hips, her breasts straining against her corset almost painfully with how hard she fought to breathe.
“Tell me what you think of.”
