Page 52 of Her Beast of a Duke
His face pressed against the back of her thigh as he planted a deliberate kiss there. He trailed them upward, alternating between each thigh, until he reached the apex. Her innermost parts were there for the taking, but he still paused.
“May I taste you?” he asked under his breath, needing to hear theyes.
“Heavens,please,” Isabella moaned, already pressing back, surprising him.
She clearly had some knowledge of his intentions, and that only made the fire in him roar hotter. Finally, Oscar pressed his mouth to the folds between her legs. Her taste was instant, already aroused and slicked from their kissing and his teasing.
The fact that he aroused her made the primal urge in him rise.
His mouth fastened around her folds, suckling at the outer parts of her first. Isabella jolted, a hard exhale leaving her lips at the first contact. He gripped her hips harder, pushing her further onto the desk.
“Oscar.” That first, breathy moan of his name had him wanting to sink into her, but he let his tongue do so instead of his length.
He wanted her to experience pleasure before him. Oscar closed his eyes, spreading his wife the way he had only let himself think about on the brink of sleep.
His thumbs parted her folds to allow him further access, and he slipped his tongue into her, breaching those heady, pleasurable parts. Isabella reached for her skirts, holding them aloft to give him more access, and the way she brought her hands before her left Oscar buried in the bared openness of her.
“Heavens, you taste sweeter than I could have ever imagined,” he muttered against her skin.
He turned his head to nip at her inner thigh, feeling the jerk she gave. He smiled at that before diving back between her legs.
It satisfied him to know that no other man had ever done this, no other man had even perhaps kissed his wife. She was Oscar’s—utterly, devotedly, and he chased that satisfaction deeper intoher. He sucked on her taste as if she were the finest delicacy, the most delicious nectar.
He was ruined for the taste of anything else in his life; he knew that for certain.
His tongue flicked inside her, and he felt Isabella tense, her hips already rocking back. But she stilled, as if unsure whether shecould. Whether more pleasure was something she could seek out against him, so Oscar guided her hips back into the rocking.
“Take what you want from me,” he assured her softly. “I am yours to take from.”
“Oscar,” she moaned, already sounding so undone.
He wanted the crash of her release. He strained in his breeches even harder as Isabella spilled more arousal into his mouth. She was a wellspring that only kept giving him what he wanted.
He kissed her folds, licked around them, lickedintoher, and he delighted in the shudders of her body against him. His hands roamed, splaying over her lower spine, sliding over her hips, her thighs, touching everywhere he had access to.
He kept her spread, feeling how her legs trembled as her pleasure mounted.
Buried in her so absolutely, Oscar tasted andtasted, indulging himself thoroughly in his wife. This was everything he hadwanted for the longest time, and it was the most rewarding thing to have her coating his tongue.
Isabella was beautiful. Refined, proper, yet there she was, spread for him like a scandalous, daring lady. All forhim.Oscar let that need overtake him as he licked her harder, keeping his rhythm up as he thrust his tongue in and out of her.
Her moans spilled freely into his study, rivaling those of the thunder outside. Her thighs kept on quivering, and he smoothed his palms up them as if to sayI am here, you can fall apart.
“Heavens, Oscar—Oscar, I am—I feel…” Her voice broke off, and he hastened his efforts for her.
“Let yourself relax,” he told her. “That is your release. Let it happen, if you so wish.”
Isabella whined, her wanton noises heady for him.
“Let go for me,” he told her, and dived right back into her folds.
He ate her as if she were his last, damned meal on this earth, and hehungeredfor her. He was starving, and she was feeding him for the first time. He could become addicted to this, he thought. The feel of her in his mouth, how soft she was down here, how unburdened and without any masks or pretense or worry or insecurity.
Her hips rocked into him harder and harder, braced against the desk, and she moved so frantically that the wood creaked beneath her. Oscar slipped a hand between her thighs, seeking the nub of pleasure that would truly have her orgasm cresting.
Isabella cried out, her voice cracking. “Please! Please,please?—”
He sucked harder, licked her deeper, until her body finally tensed up, and he was rewarded with a wave of release. Her taste washed into his mouth, and he swallowed all of her, licking her through the aftershock of her orgasm.
