Page 48 of A Most Improper Duchess
‘I only know you as a puzzle.’ He licked her exposure. ‘Barely enjoying the entirety of you.’ A ribbon hissed as he pulled it loose. He tugged her skirts over her legs. ‘I will have all of you tonight.’
Vivianne pushed herself up and unthreaded her arms from her bodice. She exhaled as her corset loosened, and her petticoats were dragged from her body, and her chemise, her silks and every ribbon and trussed up bow was untied.
Arley hooked a finger over her stocking, at her thigh, and even before he’d removed it, his lips were on her skin. ‘You are delicious,’ he muttered as he kissed. ‘My elixir.’
She rolled onto her back and reached for his shirt buttons.
‘No.’ He slapped her hand away. ‘I told you. Tonight, you take.’
‘I want you,’ she said, stretching again.
‘Do I need to restrain you? Teach you a new lesson?’ He pulled his cravat loose and snapped it between his palms. The fabric cracked as it stiffened.
‘Maybe you should,’ she whispered, and raised her hands above her head.
He looped one wrist, then the other. She felt the slips of fabric tighten before her hands were pressed against the wooden bed frame. Straddling her, his weight spread across her thighs.
She tugged. His restraint held firm.
He smirked. ‘I have you, Frenchie.’
‘Anglais. You think you can conquer me? I will still defeat you.’
‘You have not conquered us since 1066.’
‘That is because you are not worth the effort.’
‘I should be your servant, then. Your supplication.’ Light glinted in his eyes, majestic and beautiful. He removed his white linen shirt and spun it above his head before casting it across the room. ‘I surrender to you, Vivianne. You have all of me.’
His lips on hers quenched a thirst unknown to her, one she could not name, and too soon he snatched himself from her, before devouring her chin, then her nape, and the slight swell of her chest.
‘Do you know what I love most about your breasts?’ he asked, then licked his forefinger.
‘You lie. You enjoy nothing. I am too small.’
‘I do enjoy them. I adore them. Because when I do this.’ He circled her nipple with his slick finger. Vivianne bucked into the sensation, then melted against the mattress. ‘I surprise you. A woman who I would have thought impossible to surprise. And here you are.’ His tongue flicked over his fingertip again. ‘At my mercy.’
How stupid men were.
She’d been at his mercy since he removed his cravat pin in Paris.
His hot breath raced across her skin and its caress turned to an exquisite torture. Always too small for any man to fuss with, to even give more than a glance, let alone attention, Arley’s reverence of her breasts slaked a hunger. She grasped her bonds and arched into him, both craving more but also enchanted by his languor. Lips pursed, his breath turned cool, before he pressed firm against her.
Vivianne, bent, watched him watching her, his sapphire eyes holding, and she tried to match his stare even as she marvelled at his tongue. His attentions were intensely detailed, like he meant to mark every bump and pore, and with a gasp, she collapsed against the pillows and revelled in the sensation. As his mouth worried at her, he pinched her other nipple, and the jolt was so magnificently thrilling she felt it burn, hot and heady and spread like a web over her skin.
‘Touch me,’ she moaned. Bodily, blissful, she rubbed her thighs against one another, desperate for some stimulation to break the throbbing, but all she could muster was an unsatisfying tremble.
‘Non, non, non,’ he mumbled against her, trailing his kisses over her chest, before taking her other nipple into his mouth. ‘I will not be rushed.’
Sucking, then scraping, alternating his breath between warm and cool, he lifted her to the precipice of a crescendo, then snatched her back from the edge. Her entire body blazed as he laved, occasionally mouthing over her ribs, to her stomach, once even shuffling himself low enough to tease his tongue at her slit before he worked his way up her body again. Vivianne hooked one ankle around his waist and angled into him. The slightest brush of his body sparked a moan. Arley circled her nipple again, faster, his pace rapid and unrelenting. A hum vibrated in her, and as he pinched harder, then nipped her with his teeth, she came completely undone. Her hips thrust at air, all sensation concentrating on her breasts, before exploding like glitter and stardust.
‘Baise-moi,’ she cried, desperate for his frantic thrusting and wanting to feel him pound and draw his satisfaction from her body.
He shuffled lower and positioned himself between her thighs. Vivianne tugged at the ties, hating their restraint but also savouring his satisfied glint. ‘I told you, you will be greedy. A glutton. You will think of no one but yourself.’
With the same alacrity that he had plied at her breasts, he slid his tongue between her folds, circled her clitoris, then drew it into his mouth with a murmured word.Take, take, take.
How often she had heard that word—take.Takeit,takeme,takemy cock, and they all said it like it was a gift, but they gave her nothing, only stole, manipulated, and demanded everything from her and left broken promises. She lay stripped and restrained in surrender as Arley worked at her with ferocity. His fingers dug into her hips as he raised her cunt a little higher and licked deeper.Take. She was nothing but a mass of her own bliss, and she rejoiced in her own desperation to feel and enjoy. Grasping the ties, she jerked into the bond. She was nothing but his and with an agony of realisation that shot as white hot and bold as the fantastic sensations pulsing and blinding her, that for all her life, her remaining days, her body would be for him and no other. He would own her completely, he would tend her, he would make her a mother, he would make her a wife, would make her his, and never again would she have to ply herself for a chance at happiness.
