Page 95 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
Her breasts bounced heavily as she rocked against him, messily trying to keep up with his pace. He took everything she gave, gazing up at her. His lips were parted with pleasure, his eyes as heavy as hers.
“You are so beautiful,” he rasped, releasing her to cup her face in both hands.
Eleanor moaned, the sound swallowed with another kiss as he pulled her down. He slid deeper into her, and she all but sobbed as he started slamming into her. Her mind skittered and fractured, overtaken by sheer, unbridled desire that he rained upon her.
“I-I am reaching my peak,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “Please—please deny me still. I am overwhelmed and want to know how much more I can take. Please,please.”
“You beg so prettily,” Spencer cooed, sweeping his thumb over her cheek. “How could I ever deny you anything? You will not climax until I say so. Let yourself teeter on the precipice, wife. Peer over the edge. Look at what you could have, had you not so sweetly asked, and then I will tip you over when I see fit. Yes?”
“Yes,” she practically sobbed. “Yes,yes, yes?—”
She didn’t know if she was agreeing or simply crying out in pleasure, for everything felt perfect, right, too overwhelming. AndHeavens, she was going to explode.
But Spencer was there, grounding her, his voice anchoring her through the fog that overtook her mind.
Eleanor floated in a place where nothing but unimaginable pleasure existed, blocking out everything else.
Her moans grew louder, less controlled, more raw, and she knew she could not handle it anymore.
“Spencer—”
“Come for me.”
The words dripped with sensual promise, the coaxing and one last, hard thrust enough to finally tip her over the edge.
Eleanor shattered in the most heated of ways, her noises all but rising to a scream as she climaxed, her body tense and rocking desperately to have the last of her release wrung out.
Spencer held her through it all, his jaw clenched as he gasped out his own release moments later. He dragged his lips over her bare shoulder to her cheek. She moaned softly into his mouth, her fingers tugging on his hair as if asking for more, and he gave her everything. As if nothing was too much.
The heat between them crackled, threatening to turn into another inferno. But it was Spencer who pulled back, slumping against the cushions with a lazy, satisfied smile.
“You seduce me too easily.”
His breathing was still labored, a feat Eleanor very much enjoyed. She smiled, leaning in to kiss along the line of his jaw before climbing off him.
It was only then that she realized he had climaxed inside her.
He looked down between them as if coming to the same conclusion. “I can—I can get you some tonics,” he muttered. “I will go immediately.”
He was already moving, but she reached for him. “Stay. That can wait.”
“I am certain it cannot?—”
“Send somebody else,” she suggested.
“And have people question why we are not trying for a child?”
Silence followed, the question loaded, but Eleanor only snuggled into his side, drawing circles on his hard chest. She pressed a kiss to his collarbone, then his pectoral, and then his thick upper arm.
“We are not ready,” she said, her voice tight.
Children were an expectation, yes, but she had never looked into herself beyond that to know her own feelings. Now did not seem the right time, not with their investigation. But…
Spencer’s heart was still racing beneath her palm, but that tension was back.
Eleanor pulled his face toward her. “I mean it,” she insisted. “We are not ready, and that is fine.”
“Yes, but am I—am I depriving you? Many women crave a family.”
