Page 51 of Riding the Line
Duke’s hands shoot out to bracket my wrists as he breaks our kiss, halting me. I let out a little groan at the loss of his lips.
‘We need to shower,’ he demands, dark eyes enflamed.
When he finally lets go of my wrists, I try to run my fingers through my hair, only to find it knotted and crusty with dried paint. That’s going to be a pain to wash out. But God, was it worth it. Making out with Duke Bennett dripping in paint should’ve been on the bucket list, because I don’t think anything has made me feel so exhilarated before.
I bite my lip, grinning when his darkened gaze snaps straight to the movement. ‘And when you saywe… does that mean you’ll be joining me?’
Duke drags his eyes slowly up to meet mine with heavy lids, his nostrils flaring. ‘Is that what you want?’
Tentatively, I filter my fingers under the hem of his T-shirt, feeling the burn of his gaze. ‘Yes.’
‘Okay, but I’m not going to fuck you in the shower, Cherry.’
The wordfuckjolts me, warmth puddling deep in my stomach. Because that is exactly how I imagine it would be with Duke. It wouldn’t be sex, or making love, it would be a good, hardfuck.All those years of pent-up attraction spilling out. He’s built for it too – I bet those thick arms could hold me up against the wall for hours. And he might act all gentle and caring around me, but when we were kissing earlier in the paint, I saw his control snap. Ifelthow badly he wanted me.
‘If you say so.’ I shrug and start lifting, revealing inch by inch of dark, chiselled muscle. My mouth dries, and when Duke doesn’t stop me, even going as far as to finish removing the top when my arms can’t reach over his, I’m speechless. My heart clamours in my chest.
Because he’s a goddamn work of art.
I have an unbelievable need to trace the hard lines of his body with my tongue. I don’t know why the sight of him is hitting me so deeply. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve seen him shirtless – we were literally skinny-dipping the other week. But now, this is allmine. No boundaries or lines or rules to stop me.
A goddamn miracle.
‘My turn,’ Duke hums, the low, promising timbre of his voice making the hairs on my body stand. The ache between my legs becomes almost unbearable.
With a featherlight touch, Duke’s fingers skim my stomach before he hooks them under my crop top. I raise my arms, letting him peel the top off. I can’t help but gulp, especially when my eyes flick down to where his sweatpants are barely hiding how hard he is. Duke’s hands splay over my waist, pausing for a moment to lethis thumbs stroke my curves before he starts backing me up. He walks me backwards until we’re into his bedroom and I’m pressed against a door. He reaches for the handle, letting us into the bathroom. Even though his hold on me is gentle, wildness swarms his eyes, his muscles strained.
Fingers trail up my back, leaving a searing heat in their wake. They reach my bra, and it’s unhooked with one quick flick. Duke draws the straps down my arms, letting it fall to the ground. The cool air kisses my breasts and his sharp inhale echoes through the bathroom.
‘Fuck, Cherry.’ The column of his throat works as his eyes devour me. ‘You’re a masterpiece.’
I’m buzzing with need, agonised by the fact that his hands are back by his side, flexing, instead of touching me. Like they should be.
‘Me again,’ I practically breathe out with the way my breath is racing right now.
Duke’s eyes shutter closed for a beat, then shoot open as my fingers curl around his waistband. The intensity of his stare weighs on me as I tug his sweatpants down, letting them drop to the floor. Fuck, even his thighs are mouth-watering. Which is just made worse now that I can see how goddamn huge he is, straining hard against his underwear.
Duke begins loosening the tied up strings of my sweatpants, brows knitted together, and head dipped as he does. He steps out of his own pants, and runs a finger along the inside of my waistband, far too close to where I need him. Then he drops to his knees and presses a kiss to my navel, sending a jolt of electricity through me. Herests his forehead against me, fingers curling around my waistband.
‘Cherry,’ he whispers against my skin.
One name, too many unspoken meanings.
I cup his jaw, lifting his gaze to mine. Fire ignites in his eyes, pupils enlarging. Two pools of pure desire that I want to dive into.
Duke doesn’t break eye contact as he finally pulls down my sweatpants, knuckles skimming my legs as he does, the tingling sensation they leave going straight to my core. Carefully, he helps each of my feet out of the legs, brushing his hands up the back of my thighs as he stands again. It only makes me want him to touch me more, causing me to let out a small, breathy whimper.
The faint smirk on his face tells me that he knows exactly that.
That he’s purposefully prolonging this.
As if I – no,we– haven’t waited so long already.
When Duke’s back towering over me, I’m all too aware of how close he is, how if I move even the slightest bit, my stomach will brush up against his hard cock.
Staring down, I can’t help but swallow again.
But before I can go to remove his underwear, Duke moves towards the shower and turns it on. The sound of the water rushing snaps me back to reality. Holding his hand under the shower for a few seconds to test the temperature, Duke eventually nods and turns to me. ‘You first.’
