Page 63 of A Duchess Bound
Oh. Her body tensed at once. The image of Gerard crawling into her bed by night and pressing his lips to her breasts, her stomach, her sex was so compelling that her thighs quivered.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I think of you. But it was—it was only once. I prefer your touch.”
“How flattering.”
Dorothy tentatively pressed a finger inside herself. A little pulse of pain flourished, so she moved the digit carefully, letting her body adjust and loosen.
A low groan tore from Gerard’s throat. “I am imagining that it is my hand instead.”
“It could be.”
“No, not yet.”
She brought her finger in and out, her hips moving in motion to her thrusts and retreats. Dorothy’s thumb caressed the place where her folds met. Her pace grew feverish, as did her desperation to reach the glorious release that she always did when Gerard touched her.
“Very good,” he said, grasping her thighs.
His sudden touch sent her jolting forward, and she gasped for air. When Dorothy brought her gaze down, she saw first that her nipples were pert and aching, visible even through her gown. She spied his manhood, straining against his trousers. It would be the easiest thing for him to unfasten his trousers and free himself. Dorothy could spear herself on him. A lump rose in her throat. “Shall I—do you wish—” she struggled to find a cohesive way of framing her request. “Your manhood is?—”
“Quite large. Quite aching,” he said. “I am in agony, my lady.”
“Let me relieve your agony,” she said, nearly breathless.
Her inner walls responded eagerly to the words, clamping fiercely over her finger.
“Not yet.” Gerard shifted beneath her and brought his hand up to curl around her neck. “Continue touching yourself. I want to kiss you while you come.”
She hissed between her teeth. Gerard’s mouth met hers, indomitable and hungry. Dorothy groaned raggedly, moving her finger more quickly inside herself. She added another, ignoring the faint pinch. Her wetness covered her hand. She quivered and rocked as she kissed him, as if her life depended on it. He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close, trapping her hand in place.
Her wrist ached, and her lungs burned for want of air. She gasped and struggled, her body lost in the throes of pleasure. At last, her release thundered through her, like a storm coming over a beach. She screamed against Gerard’s mouth, and he drew back.
Dorothy gasped, shaken from the force of her release. Gerard pressed his forehead against hers and chuckled, the sound reverberating through Dorothy’s heaving breast. “I think you knew far more than you led me to believe, you wicked girl. When next we meet, I must punish you for lying to me.”
Her blood quickened with anticipation. Dorothy’s sex quivered, as if already her body ached for the next encounter.
“Will you deny me again?” she asked, her voice raw. “Again and again?”
“It depends on my mood,” he whispered, his breath scalding against her neck. “Maybe I shall deprive you until you beg for release. Or maybe I shall do something else, something worse.”
She shivered. What could beworse? What could be morewonderful?
“It is not much of a punishment if I enjoy how the night ends,” she said, letting her skirts drop.
They did not drop neatly. Instead, the material hung awkwardly between them, crushed between her body and his. Gerard tipped his head back and smiled. “My dear Dorothy, I would advise you not to say that again. Perhaps I will deprive you over the course of many nights?”
She hissed between her teeth. “You would not!”
He winked and shifted around her, swinging his legs over the side of the settee. Gerard took a swig of his brandy and cast her an amused look. “I shall consider being more discreet, but I can make no promises. I derive too much enjoyment from teasing you.”
She swallowed hard. “Please.”
His expression softened. “Perhaps, I can be a little less obtrusive.”
It was not the answer she had wanted, but he seemed sincere. Dorothy supposed that any concessions were better than none at all.
“I should go,” she said.
“Yes. I will have a carriage take you home.” Gerard paused, his brow furrowing. “I know that you are an exceptional woman, but I would advise you to find a confidante to accompany you if you intend on continuing these nightly visits. London is perilous at night for any woman and infinitely more so for a woman with means.”
