Page 73 of Her Beast of a Duke
She licked up his skin, humming quietly, contentedly, and felt his length hardening against her.
Soon, they were kissing once more, forgetting to actually wash themselves, but instead finding more interest in one another’s tongues. As Isabella’s arousal grew, the steam made her flush, but the burning heat she felt for Oscar made her even warmer.
His hands moved to cup her breasts as she leaned into him, and, in a moment of hurried, desperate movement, he had her turned onto her back, flat against his chest. She felt the powerful body beneath her, and her legs parted around him naturally.
His mouth attached to her neck, while one hand remained fondling her breasts, alternating between each one, but the other…
Heavens, the other slid down her stomach, lingering just above the place between her legs that was already slickening with need.
“I do not want to push you further than?—”
“Oscar, I crave you day and night,” she said, her voice almost dropping to a growl of frustration that he might think to stopnow. Her hips lifted, an impatient need for his fingers driving her. “You have made me wait long enough already.”
“On the contrary, Duchess,” he murmured against the shell of her ear, “I do not think I have made you wait half as much as I want. I enjoyed how you pleaded for me to kiss you, how you begged for me.”
“By how you feel beneath me,” she answered, breathless, “I do not think I need to beg, for you are just as desperate.”
“And yet you do it so prettily. Beg for me, wife.”
The command came without question, but the way his voice dropped lower as he said it, so seductive and overwhelming, Isabella knew she would. His fingers danced over her thighs, teasing her with the lightest of touches.
Her hips continued trying to tilt up to seek his touch, but he always took it away, heightening her frustration.
“Heavens,” she bit out. “Please.”
“Please, what?” His smile curled against her cheek, his wet hair brushing her temple as he looked down her body.
“Please—please touch me,” she gasped out. “Please?—”
Her plea ended in a choked moan as he slid two fingers into her without preamble.
Her hand immediately gripped his wrist. Not to stop, but to ground herself, as he set a firm pace from the start. His fingers delved into her, exploring her thoroughly. She rocked against the digits spreading themselves in her, the water slapping against the tub and between their bodies.
Beneath her, his length only grew harder, and she ached to have it.
He continued pressing into her, right against that soft spot within her, and Isabella keened, her nails digging into his skin, but she tried to be aware of not hurting him. Yet when she tried to pull her hand away, Oscar shook his head against hers.
“You may use me in whatever way you please,” he told her, sinful promises in his voice. “I can take any outburst of your desire. Mark me as yours, cover my scars with scratches if you need to, for you may crash against me whatever way you need.”
With that, she took the pleasure he delivered to her with the thrusting of his fingers, and when he curled them inside her, brushing against a spot his tongue had not touched the night in his study, Isabella’s body seized, pleasure racking through her. It was not quite an orgasm, but she saw stars.
“There,” she gasped out. “Oscar—Oscar—there. Please, please?—”
He continued seeking that spot, and Isabella’s head fell back onto his chest, her eyes closing from the sheer intensity of what he was doing, and her hips moved of their own accord.
Soon, her body tensed again, and then the pleasure was mounting to a higher level than she had ever felt, and Oscar only kept his fingers thrusting in and out of her, bringing her closer to that release.
When Isabella climaxed, her cry of pleasure echoed off the bathroom walls, but she could hardly care about being heard. The echo of it, and of his own voice in her ear, encouraging her through it, was a sound that only heightened her desire.
Oscar continued his ministrations until her body jerked, oversensitive yet still tightening around him, as if reluctant to let him go.
“That’s it. That’s a good girl,” he chuckled under his breath and finally pulled free of her.
Once she came back to herself after that dizzying height of release, Isabella turned around to kiss him like a starved woman.
Their mouths met without finesse, a battle ofwant,messy and hungry. She moaned into his mouth as his fingers dug into her thighs, tucking her knees around his hips. In one powerful surge, he rose to his feet, holding her firm as though she weighed nothing, water streaming from them both as he stepped out of the tub without the slightest falter.
Isabella turned breathless at the display of strength. That he could easily scoop her up like this without any bracing.
