Page 73 of From Duke Till Dawn
He reached down and removed one of her shoes, setting it aside before moving to the other shoe. A smile played about his lips as his hands slid up the curve of her stocking-clad calf. She bit back a moan at the feel of him on her legs, but couldn’t hold back her sounds of pleasure as his hands went higher, over her thigh, until he found her garter. His fingers trembled slightly, growing clumsy as he undid the ribbons. Then the garter fell away. He peeled away the stocking, revealing her bare leg. With a mixture of confidence and reverence, he stroked her leg from thigh to ankle, then set her foot down on the carpet.
He repeated the process for her other leg with agonizing, delicious slowness. His hands shook, however. He was a man on the edge of control. She gripped the arms of the chair tightly, her breath quick as a flush stole into her cheeks.
His own labored breathing rose above the sound of the fire in the grate. His gaze flicked to hers and she was seared by the intensity and heat of his look.
This is mine,his gaze said.This is ours.
Her breath held as he gathered up her skirts, uncovering her legs inch by inch. Calf, knee, thigh. Warm air stroked her skin. Until her skirts gathered at her waist, and she was completely exposed to his gaze. He couldn’t look away from her quim, like one entranced. His hands came up, but instead of touching her directly, he gripped the naked curve of her bottom as he pulled her forward, until she sat on the very edge of the chair. He hooked her legs over the chair’s arms, exposing her more fully.
She knew what he meant to do. And she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Not when he licked his lips, and not when he lowered his head to give her one thick, glossy stroke of his tongue against her folds.
Arching up, she couldn’t stop the cry that rose from deep within her. She pressed her head into the chair’s cushions as Alex bent to his task. He ran his tongue up and down her flesh, teasing her entrance, making tight rotations around her clit. He savored her. He devoured her, taking her into himself like a man who wanted no other sustenance. And when he thrust two fingers into her passage, she spun away from the world and lost herself in sensation.
She couldn’t stop watching this proud man, this stately duke lick and adore her in an act so primal, so intimate, she felt nothing but his caresses. He gripped her thighs tightly, holding her open for his ravishing.
Pleasure built in hot, clutching waves. Higher and higher it rose with every touch of his tongue and stroke of his fingers. She lifted her arms to grip the top of the chair, surrendering herself to his demanding worship.
He found a spot deep within her, swollen and needy, and pressed against it. Sensation built higher, higher, but then he eased off the spot. Was this to be his revenge? Keeping her at the edge of release?
But then he stroked her again and sucked at her. Release came in a crash, ripping through her unrelentingly. She cried out in a long, low wail as her body surrendered. Heat expanded outward, bright and consuming, holding her fast until she collapsed against the cushions.
Yet that wasn’t enough for him. He continued to suck and lick, teasing and tormenting and pleasuring her so that she came again. And once more.
Finally, he let go of her thighs and lifted his head. He licked his lips slowly.
“You’ll kill me,” she managed to slur.
“I’ll give you everything,” he said.
She pushed herself up and stroked his face, tracing the hard planes that had only grown sharper with unmet hunger. “Take me to bed.”
She tried to stand, but the world tilted. He’d gathered her up in his arms. He carried her over to the bed and set her on her feet. Though she swayed bonelessly, she managed to stay upright long enough to work at the folds of his cravat and the buttons of his waistcoat.
A small pile of discarded clothing heaped beside them as they bared his broad, thickly muscled torso. Dark hair curled in the center of his chest and trailed down to a line that disappeared into the waistband of his breeches. She stroked this hair, testing its crisp texture against her palm, and went lower still, down the twitching contours of his abdomen. Until she rested her hand over the long, pronounced ridge of his cock, straining against his breeches.
He groaned when she cupped him, and made animal sounds as she stroked him through the fabric. Arching into her touch, he tilted his neck back and growled.
The buttons of his breeches yielded to her, and she pulled open the placket. His cock pushed against the thin cotton of his drawers. She reached through the opening and took him in her hand. He exhaled jaggedly at the feel of her grasping him.
She stroked him, loving the sensation of his hardness, and the velvet softness of his skin. The head of his cock was round and full. Already, a gleam of moisture shone at the tip, and her heart climbed into her throat at the sight.
More.
She sank to her knees, still holding him.
He gazed down at her with a piercing, feral look. Waiting. Needing.
“Tell me what you want,” she demanded.
Muscles in his jaw clenched and loosened. “Take me in your mouth. Lick me all over. Suck me.”
Her eyes closed as she soaked in his filthy, wonderful words. He freed himself just with her. This was a secret language saved only for themselves.
She lowered her mouth and took the plump head between her lips. Running her tongue around the rim, she tasted musk and salt. Then she dipped farther, and his shaft slid into her mouth. His hand cradled the back of her head, holding her, but giving her freedom to do as she pleased.
“Yes,” he growled as she sucked him. Heat and slickness grew between her legs, and her arousal climbed higher the more she tasted him. What she couldn’t take into her mouth, she stroked with her hand. A steady stream of curses passed through his lips, and she rejoiced in his abandon.
She chanced a look at him, and he watched her through slitted eyes, focused and lost. Very gently, she scratched her nails down his shaft, and he hissed with pleasure.
