She drew her fingertips across his skin, swirling little circles across the muscles. His body hardened, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
“You,” he panted, grazing his lips across hers, “have entirely too many clothes on.”
Grabbing hold of her hips, he rolled onto his back, seating her on top of him. Within seconds, he loosened her dress. His hands curled around the hem, and he yanked, pulling her dress upward and off her body.
The dress unceremoniously joined his clothing on the floor.
He flipped them again, his mouth reclaiming hers. One hand dipped beneath her petticoat and chemise, pushing the material higher on her legs. His knuckle skated across her thigh, and she arched her back, encouraging his fingers.
His mouth curved against her lips.
“Is this what you’d like?” he asked as his hand brushed against her center.
She moaned, tipping her head back, and tightened her hold around his neck.
He slid his fingers across her again, adopting a slow rhythm. Her hips undulated with his hand, her body craving release. However, before she reached the plateau, he stopped and removed his fingers.
She growled at him.
“Wait a moment,” he panted, shoving his trousers over his hips and exposing his erection.
Her eyes dropped, and she paled. “That isn’t going to fit.”
“It will,” he said, leaning forward again. “Take a breath.”
She did as he instructed, inhaling a deep breath and squeezing her eyes shut. Every muscle tensed.
The Duke of Lennox didn’t move. “Open your eyes.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” She winced as her voice cracked.
“Keep your gaze on me,” he said, reaching between them.
Rotating in a slow circle, his fingers stroked her center, causing her to cry out. Increasing the pressure, he drew her to the edge of release. Then his fingers disappeared, replaced by something both harder and softer than his hand. He eased forward, inching himself slowly into her.
She jerked when a sharp pinch zipped through her body, and his fingers returned to her nub, caressing her center until she vibrated with need.
“Please,” she begged, her fingers digging in his arms.
“Levi,” he murmured as he drew his hips back.
“Levi,” she repeated.
He surged forward, burying himself completely, then he paused, balancing on his arms and ground out, “Do you wish me to continue?”
“Would you stop if I wanted you to?” she asked, her heart squeezing.
Humphrey wouldn’t have given any option. He would have taken what he wanted and delighted in the pain he caused.
Despite the faint grimace that appeared on his face, the Duke of Lennox nodded. “I’m not a monster. I prefer you enjoy participating in the activity with me.”
She wiggled her hips. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”
“Don’t move.” He grabbed her, stilling her body. “You’re making it difficult for me to keep my word.”
“Am I?” She squirmed again.
“Helena,” he groaned, a passion-filled haze crawling into his eyes. “I need a decision.”
