Page 33 of My Blind Duke
And then he slowly pressed his finger through her wet folds.
Prudence gasped, clinging to him desperately, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding her body. The intrusion felt so good, yetso foreign, and she was tongue-tied, unable to decipher what it was she wanted to ask him for.
William seemed to notice something because he went still and when she settled slightly, he muttered against her neck,
“Has any man ever touched you before, Prudence?”
She felt herself melt as she shook her head.
“Good. I will go slow. Do not worry.”
Prudence nodded, shivering as his fingers began to stroke her gently, applying the barest of pressures that still had her mind going dizzy. She felt so hot, so eager, and soon, she began to move her hips in time with his strokes.
“More?” he asked after a while and she nodded, leaning forward to kiss him as he increased his pace slightly, thrusting his fingers in and out of her folds. “God, you are so wet and needy, darling…”
Prudence whimpered against his lips when he hit a spot and he licked into her mouth, sucking on her tongue and swallowing every sound she made.
She felt lost in the arms of pleasure, her body growing stiffer and hungrier as she felt it pool at the bottom of her belly, twisting her nerves until she felt like a wound-up toy.
“William–” she panted as he worked at her nub, desperate for the ease that would let her breathe freely again.
“I know, my sweet. I know,” he said, nibbling at her lower lip. “You can. Go ahead.”
It was as though all she needed was his permission. Ecstasy hit, hard and fast, consuming her as she fell off the edge. She tried to close her legs with William’s fingers still inside her but could not because he was standing between them and he pressed kisses up and down her neck, slowly petting her through her release.
“That’s it,” he hummed in approval, making her preen on the inside. “Well done, darling.”
Prudence felt as though she had fallen down a hill and rolled down to the bottom with how heavy her limbs felt suddenly. Her body felt too hot, too sensitive and she just wished she could curl up on a bed somewhere and sleep.
“That was–” she started, losing the words and her train of thought as he pulled her closer and kissed her deeply and hungrily.
Prudence melted against him, letting the duke take whatever he wanted, feeling sated and satisfied. After he broke the kiss he remained close, breathing deeply as though he was trying to ensure that her scent would be imprinted on his lungs.
Then he groaned, releasing her and stepping back.
“Oh, Duchess. You should have left when I first asked you to.”
William downed the contents of his glass, swallowing it in a single gulp.
He set the glass down on his desk and pointed at it, listening to the tell-tale sound of liquid sloshing into it. He nodded at Robert in thanks and took another mouthful, irritated by the fact that no amount of whiskey seemed to erase the taste of Prudence from his tongue.
He had been a fool to give in to his wants, to let his desire lure him closer to her. That vixen was meant to be watched from afar, nothing more. But he had thought he could approach her and leave without any losses. Get her out of his system once and for all.
Truly, what a fool he had been.
When he had begun to touch her, he had his suspicions. The duchess had been too responsive, too sensitive to the touch. It made him ache for more, more of her breathless pants and melodic moans. More of that smooth, soft skin that was covered in her gentle, sweet scent.
And when he tried to take what she had offered, he felt it then.
Proof that she was not who people believed her to be.
Prudence was a virgin still.
He knew that her husband had died on their wedding night before they could consummate the marriage. But rumors claimed that the duchess had many lovers. They had said that she frequently participated in orgies and her parties generally featured immoral, unspeakable acts.
And yet, this woman was untouched. He had even been the first man to touch her like that.
The latter thought had him running wild with need. The urge to ruin her. To have her, over and over, wherever he could, until he was drunk on her scent for days.
