Page 62 of A Duchess Bound
Dorothy took a sip of her brandy and glared at him over the top of her glass. “Do not dismiss my concerns.”
“I am not. You must remember,Dorothy—” He grinned slyly. “—I have engaged in several affairs with a variety of ladies, while this is only your first. It is expected that you should be anxious.”
Dorothy sighed and looked askance. “You are the worst man I have ever met.”
“And yet you keep meeting me,” Gerard said, his eyes sparkling. “How strange. You promised to submit to me, and this behavior does not seem especiallysubmissive. I almost wonder if you are purposefully disobeying me.”
Dorothy cast him an offended look. “Your skills for invention are such that you ought to be a writer. I have seldom met a man with such talents for concocting a tale.”
“That is kind of you. It would be kinder if you would provide me with some inspiration for my next story.”
Gerard spread his legs and arched an eyebrow. Despite her resolve to be firm with him, Dorothy’s will wavered. Her gaze wandered down his trim waist to his muscular thighs, lingering a little on the place where his manhood was.
“If you wish for inspiration from me, you must do something which rouses interest,” she said.
The words seemed as though they had come from someone far bolder than she.
“I see,” he said, placing his brandy down. “Would you be sufficiently interested if I said that I want to see you?”
“You are already gazing at me.”
“You know what I mean.” He patted the place between his legs. “I want to watch you pleasure yourself.”
Her breath hitched. “I do not know how. Not—not well enough to show you. It was only once.”
The excuses tumbled from her throat, and Dorothy could not even say precisely why she made them. Why did she still have moments of shyness before this man, who had seen her in every disheveled state again and again?
Gerard’s lips twitched into an amused smile. “I shall instruct you.”
The thought of bringing herself to completion with his guidance sent a fissure of delight coursing through her. “How vulgar!”
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
“You could have chosen a more romantic quote.”
“Perhaps. But I find that this quote is the truest to the situation,” he said. “You know that you want me. Be my good girl and show me how much.”
“You are patronizing.”
“I amright.”
Dorothy set her glass beside his and slowly climbed between his legs. She remained on her knees and hesitantly hitched up her skirts, revealing her sex to his hungry gaze. Cold air swept over her thighs and caressed that delicate place, which quivered already in anticipation of her touch.
“Yes,” he murmured. “See? You are capable of obedience.”
“A gentleman would not gloat over his victory.”
“Neither of us believes me to be a gentleman.”
“That is true,” Dorothy said.
She gathered her skirts in one hand and let the other trail between her thighs. Her fingers brushed over the tight curls of hair and to the pearl nestled at her entrance.
“Before I begin instructing, I think you should show me what you already know,” Gerard said. “I suspect you have been dishonest about your skills. Is it out of some sense of modesty? You can no longer claim to be a blushing maiden, ignorant of such matters.”
She let her fingers drift lower, caressing up and down between her folds. Jolts of pleasure traced the path of her spine, and the muscles in her stomach tightened. Gerard watched her with such intensity that it took her breath away. While he had seen her in a state of undress, bare to him countless times, there was something even more intimate about him seeing herlike this.
“When you lie in your bed and touch yourself like this,” Gerard said lowly, “do you say my name? Do you imagine that it is my hands touching you instead, making you wet?”
