Page 11 of The Duke's Twin
“There. That’s better.” He stepped back, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “I’m sorry about your elephant.”
“It wasn’t an elephant!” She shoved him with a little laugh. And just like that, something changed between them. His eyes lit with a hunger that both frightened and excited her. His tall, warm body was too enticing to resist. She tiled her head back, her lips parting as their gazes locked.
He reached for her, drawing her into his arms, and took her mouth with his. The kiss was sudden and wild. She had no idea what she was supposed to do, but she tried everything, loving the freedom she felt of exploring him. And to her surprise, she felt no judgment from him of her lack of experience. If anything, he seemed ready to teach her.
His lips taunted, teased, and played with hers, instructing her how to respond. She learned each lesson well, drinking in the irresistible longing and desire she’d tried in vain to repress since the moment she’d met him. His hands roamed her body, his touch light but leaving fire in its wake. She liked the way he touched her, the way he cupped one breast, gently kneading it, then his other hand gripping her bottom, squeezing it.
She felt owned by him, his hands caressing and holding her possessively. Eager to feel the same toward him, she slid her palms up his chest, then dug her nails lightly into his shoulders and ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. He shuddered against her and kissed her harder than before. Was this actually happening? Did the duke truly desire her?
He coaxed her lips apart and slid his tongue into her mouth. She gasped and melted into him. He thrust his tongue between her lips, as though demonstrating what he wished to do with her in bed.
It was all so very wicked. She felt wanton, and yet if it stopped, she’d cry out from the pain of losing this intensity. Surely this wasn’t right, yet she didn’t care. This was what she wanted. This was how a kissshouldbe. All passion, fire, and delicious abandon. This was what she had been missing in life. The way she should have felt when she looked at those gentlemen in the London ballrooms, but she never had. Not until she’d fallen into the duke’s arms yesterday.
Wiltshire moved them backward until he had her pinned against a wooden post. He rocked his hips against hers, letting her feel the bulge in his trousers as it dug into her. She knew a little of men and lovemaking from eavesdropping on ladies at balls. He was aroused by her. The thought thrilled her, and she flushed from head to toe with heat and happiness. Rebecca’s own body burned as she clenched her thighs. It almost hurt deep in her womb as she imagined what might happen between them, and she felt herself grow wet. Her kisses turned frantic as she tried to get closer to him. If this was her only chance of being with a man like him, she would not turn her back on it. Spinsterhood be damned.
He groaned softly in her ear. His warm breath stirred the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck, and she trembled. “Miss Livingston…”
“Becca. Call me Becca,” she begged in a ragged whisper.
“Becca, you taste so sweet.” He kissed her again, raw and primal as his hands dug at her skirts, trying to raise them. She was just as desperate for him and bit at his bottom lip before licking away the sting. His hands scrambled into the chaos of her skirts as she traced his shoulders, delighting in the pleasure of touching him and letting him touch her. For as long as she lived, she would remember this moment of intimacy and the spell it cast over her heart and body.
“May I touch you?” he whispered against her throat.
“Touch me?” She tried to think through the daze of desire he was creating as he nibbled on her neck and kissed the sensitive skin just behind her ear. “I believe you’re doing quite a lot of that already.”
“Not like this I’m not.” He moved his hand up her inner right thigh, slipping between the layers of petticoats. When he reached her folds, she nearly jumped. “Like this.”
“There?” she gasped.
“Oh yes,” he said gruffly, his mouth hot upon her lips as he kissed her again. They broke apart for a brief second as she nodded desperately.
“Yes, touch me there.” She widened her legs, and when he stroked a fingertip through her parted folds, she moaned loudly, throwing her head back. Her eyes met his as he towered over her. He didn’t speak again. Instead, he penetrated her slowly with that single finger, rubbing her slickness around before he began to gently thrust in and out of her. She sucked in a deep breath, her breasts heaving against her bodice as she tried to comprehend this sudden rush of fire beneath her skin. It was a terrifying, thrilling sense of something she barely understood building inside her.
They stared into one another’s eyes as he continued to explore her, sometimes curling his finger inside her until he hit a spot that made her tense and nearly scream. Wiltshire panted, his eyes dark and hot as he savored each and every reaction.
And then it hit—a force inside her seemed to explode all around her, inside her, through her, shattering her. She was spinning, dizzy and unsteady on her feet. His finger pumped over and over, rubbing that spot within her that had made her mad with pleasure. She closed her eyes, trying to suck in a breath.
“My God, you’re beautiful when you come, Becca.” Wiltshire’s deep voice was husky, and it made her trembling only deepen.
She clutched at his shoulders. “I…don’t think I can stand…”
“I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you.”
There was something about the way he said it that felt strangely deep, as though he didn’t plan to ever let her go. But that couldn’t be it. He removed his hand from under her skirts and lifted her up in his arms as he walked over to a bench at the back of the gazebo. He sat down and settled her upon his lap. She laid her head against his chest, her heart racing as she tried to process what she’d just experienced.
“Are you all right now?” he asked, nuzzling the crown of her hair.
“I don’t know…I’ve never felt that way before. I”
“You’ve never touched yourself to experience pleasure?” Wiltshire’s tone held a hint of surprise, so she raised her head to look at him.
“I’ve never really thought much about that—not until I met you.” She hadn’t meant to admit that last part, but it slipped out. She felt so vulnerable that he could have asked her anything and she would have told him.
“So, I am the first to touch youandhave the gift of seeing you experience such pleasure for the first time? You’ve given me quite a gift, Becca.”
He rested his forehead against hers. It was then that she noticed she was sitting on his lap and his erection was nudging her bottom.
“What about you?” she asked, squirming a little as her still-quaking channel stirred again at the touch of his body.
