Page 39 of Duke of Wickedness
They didn’t pause to speak, nor even to breathe, before their mouths were crashing together. Ariadne threw her arms around his neck, crossing her wrists to pull him closer, to pull herself up and against him. It was as though they were dancers, executing their synchronous movements with the ease of long practice—and yet, at the same time, it was thrillingly new.
“I underestimated you, little bird,” he admitted between kisses. “I thought this little performance would push you right to your limit. But you’re braver than anyone gives you credit for, aren’t you?”
Ariadne didn’t think it was bravery; this thing inside her was desire, burning bright and true.
“I just want toknow,” she managed, not caring if this was coherent. He would understand her. She just knew it. The words weren’t the point.
“Ari,” he murmured into her mouth, and the familiarity of that nickname made her feel even more intoxicated. “Iwant to know. Show me. Show me what you do when you please yourself.”
While she was reeling from the implications of this, he stole another kiss, not that this gave her any time to think.
He pulled back and looked at her. She wondered if she looked as undone as he did, as pink of cheek and as wide of eyes. Surely, she had to look worse, given his experience. For her, this was the most arousing and alluring experience of her life.
For him, it was merely…another day.
The idea stung her pride, but she pushed it aside. Nothing in their bargain had been about David’s—the duke’s—enjoyment. He was her instructor. This wasfor her.
And yes, shedidwant to show him the way she’d learned how to give herself pleasure. She wanted him to give her that feeling back . Lord only knew it would be ten times as powerful, coming from his fingers.
So, she echoed the movements of the actor on the stage and slowly, achingly slowly, grasped two handfuls of her skirts and drew them up over her ankles, shins, knees.
“Goddamn,” David murmured, watching this movement with eager eyes. “Yes. Christ. Keep going. Please.”
His praise was nearly as consuming as his touch—except, no, not it wasn’t. She needed him to touch herright now.
“David,” she pleaded, because that had given her spectacular results before. “Please. Touch me.”
He nodded, then put his hand in hers. At first, she didn’t quite understand, and then it all fell into place.
Show me, he had said.
“Hold my skirts,” she commanded, putting a fistful of fabric into her free hand. He tugged them roughly to the side, using his knee to pin the velvet against the wall. This motion brought him even closer against her, and let him reach the place where she guided his hand more easily.
The first touch of his fingers against her sensitive core made her let out a cry so loud that one might have thought she was trying to rival the actress on the stage. David caught her moan in his mouth, swallowing it down as he caressed her tongue with his.
“You must be quiet, my darling,” he chided, even as she guided his fingers in a rough circular motion that glanced around but didn’t quite touch that sensitive spot at the apex of her core. “So, so quiet.”
This second command he punctuated with a firmer press against her, a stutter in his motion that wrenched another noise from her.
Hetsked. “That’s very naughty,” he chided. “Don’t you want to be good for me, Ariadne?”
“God,” she panted.
“No,” he corrected. “David is just fine.”
He was so irritating. Forget nightingales-he was a nightmare made into a man. And yet…
And yet, everything he did seemed to only serve to make her burn hotter, spiral higher. Because shedidwant to be good for him. She wanted to bask in his praise.Andshe wanted to tease him back, giving as good as she took for every barb that came her way.
She wanted all of it.
And so, when he pulled his fingers free from hers and murmured, “Can I?” against her mouth, she didn’t pause to ask what he meant. She didn’t care. She was happy to let him do anything.
She nodded and kept nodding until he moved his hand so that he could keep up the rhythm on that sensitive place—and slip a finger inside her at the same time.
Oh. Oh, she had never thought to do that, not that her explorations had been all that comprehensive. Obviously, they hadn’t been, if she’d missed something asconsumingas the feeling of his finger moving inside her.
“Show me, little bird,” he urged, his motions growing quicker, his breath panting against her neck. She let her head drop back against the wall, let her eyes flutter shut. “Show me your pleasure. Please. I’m so selfish for it. Give it to me. I need it.”
