Page 71 of Dare to Love a Duke
He leaned up to kiss her, and she tasted herself on him. With his clever fingers, he worked the fastenings down the back of her gown until the neckline hung loosely. He stroked down her neck, over her collarbone, lower, and he made a thrilling sound of animal hunger when he found that she’d purposefully not worn a shift. She gasped, her lips against the shadow of his beard, when he caressed her breasts. When he stroked her nipples, she writhed with pleasure.
She peeled off her dress, flinging it aside, before sliding from the bed to kneel as well, pressing her body to his. His cock surged against her belly, and he snarled when she clutched at the curves of his buttocks to bring him closer still.
“Need you now,” he rasped.
“Yes.”
He turned her with a firm, guiding hand so she faced the bed, her upper body pressing into the mattress. He caressed one hand down the cheek of her arse. She purred in response.
His hand came down with a decisive, stinging slap.
She stiffened in surprise, then moaned as hot sensation flooded her.
He repeated the spank on her other cheek. Shamelessly, she wiggled, and her mouth formed a sly smile when he growled in response. Her smile fell away when he stroked down her arse and dipped between the lips of her slick quim. She sucked in a breath as she pushed herself back into his touch. His fingers found her aching clit and circled it until she was lost in a fever.
He stilled for a moment. Looking back, she saw him tightly gripping his beautiful, thick cock. When he positioned himself at her entrance, she dug her nails into the mattress, eagerly bracing herself.
Still on his knees, he thrust into her. She jolted exquisitely with the force of his stroke.
He plunged in and out, one hand clutching tightly on her hip. The other hand lavished attention on her clit, caressing her in time with his thrusts. She jolted from the ferocity as he drove into her. Her taut nipples rubbed against the bedclothes, adding to sensation.
She managed to reach behind her to cover his hand on her hip, then brought him up to the crown of her head, urging him to tug at the roots of her hair. When he did, lush fire poured through her. Only to him could she permit herself this ceding of control, this tumble into surrender when in every other moment of her life, she had to be in command. There had to be trust between lovers for one to yield to the other, and with dawning awareness, she discovered she had faith in him—with him, she could let everything fall away, secure in the knowledge that he would never willingly hurt her.
It was startling, terrifying, and wonderful. She lost herself in the expansive openness that was trust. Her back arched and she pushed back against him in wordless demand.
He rumbled his approval and his thrusts grew deeper, even stronger.
Her orgasm erupted, cascading along her body. She cried out. And still, he fucked her, never relenting until she came again, and once more.
“Ah, damn,” he growled, then went rigid as he pulled out and groaned his release. His seed shot across her flesh. He draped over her back, and they fitted against each other, his front to her back, panting.
They climbed into his bed, the span so narrow she lay half-atop him. She let herself drift in and out of sleep, soothed by the beat of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest as his large hand splayed against her back.
She neversleptwith her lovers, preferring to have her pleasure and then leave. Yet she couldn’t make herself move away from Tom.
Stay,her body whispered.Stay with him.
She roused from a doze, her face pressed against his chest. He made gentle sounds of sleep, and it engulfed her in a warm cocoon. But as she splayed over his body, desire licked through her. She stroked her hand up his chest, the hair crisp against her palm, before lightly scratching her nails down his torso.
“Insatiable,” he rumbled.
“No shame in that.” But she was insatiable forhim,and if she wasn’t caught in a frenzy of need, such unending hunger for one particular man would have frightened her. She couldn’t care now, not with his hot skin against hers and his scent coating her.
“None at all,” he murmured.
They kissed, and then he rolled so that she was under him. Her legs opened. In one single, potent thrust, he was inside her.
“Want you so much.” He punctuated each word with a stroke. “I’m lost in you.”
“I have the same madness,” she said on a gasp.
Despite her revelation of trust, she told herself that this thing between them was only lust—a feeling she knew well.
He hitched her leg higher onto his hip, his thrusts hitting her at precisely the right spot.
She came hard, her back arching up. A moment later, he pulled out and snarled as he climaxed.
As they collapsed onto the bed, she felt herself spiraling beyond the limits of lust into something much more dangerous. There it was again—her faith in him, that frightened her even as she turned toward it. She could not stop herself, gladly throwing herself into the fire that would surely reduce her to ashes.
