Page 39 of In Scandal with the Duke
“Widen your legs; let me see your pretty cunt.”
A becoming red flushed over her cheeks, and she obeyed. James ran his finger reverently down her soft, pink slit. He lowered his head and dragged his tongue over her flesh, pressing it hard over her clitoris. A soft, keening sound slipped from her, and her entire body quivered.
James took up her cravat, balled it and placed it in her mouth. He slid his hand to her neck, holding her gently at the throat. “You’ll not make a sound. Each time you are tempted … bite down harder … and harder.”
Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glittered with aroused excitement.
With his other hand, he unbuttoned the flaps of his trousers, and his throbbing cock sprang free. He squeezed his cock, then released it to brush his knuckles over her folds, then drove two fingers into her wet tightness, shuddering in delight at the fluttering sensation of her slick muscles clamping on his digits.
“Ugh,” a muffled moan came from her.
Her hips jerked as he thrust his fingers slowly inside her cunt once again. James removed his fingers, gripped his cock and brought the sensitive tip to the opening of her pussy, tormenting and teasing them both by rubbing the head of his cock from her slit to her clitoris and then down again. Over and over until she got wet, and her thighs trembled.
He released her throat, reached down, and used both hands to grip the lush curves of her backside, lifted her until she was poised right at the top of his length, and with excruciating slowness, dragged her onto his cock.
Her scream was muffled by the cravat, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Too … fuck … fucking tight,” he groaned, shoving in slow increments, watching her pussy split open to take him. “Take it just like that—all the way in.” The sight was almost obscene, his cock red and ruddy, pushing, spearing her sex open until he reached the hilt.
Elizabeth whimpered, and James groaned at the sublime tightness sucking him in. She quivered around him, her sheath squeezing him. Sweat beaded James’s brow, and a ragged groan tore from his lips. She was a study in carnal pleasure, her pretty face suffused with desire, her head tilted back in glorious ecstasy, her dark hair curling around her bare breasts.
“Look at me.”
Her lust-filled, dazed eyes met his, and he saw the pain and the pleasure.
“I know your pussy is aching at the stretch. Am I going to stop?”
She shook her head, her chest lifting with her raged breathing, tempting him to lean forward and flick his tongue over her nipple. Another muffled moan sounded around the cravat in her mouth when he sucked it. Releasing her breasts, James gripped her hips, and she arched when he started to move, her walls rippling over his cock, almost dragging his release from him before he was ready. Though lust pounded through James, urging him to take her hard and fast, James kept his stroke deep and slowly measured.
The feeling was pure torture.
Dragging his cock from her, then stroking back deep and hard, but so damn slowly, he had to fight with all his willpower not to release his seed. Over and over, he rocked her onto his cock, until sweat glistened on her breasts, trailing from her hairline. He leaned forward to lick that bead of sweat from between her breasts, and she groaned around the cravat for that movement shoved his cock even deeper into her pussy.
Her release flooded over his cock with wet heat, and with a ragged groan, James pumped his hips hard for a few more thrusts, then pulled from her body and released against her thighs. He felt empty yet complete and more sated than he had ever been in his life. Shocked at how damn quick yet intense everything had been, he laughed. James removed the cravat from her mouth, gently caressing her lip with his thumb.
Her eyes were soft and luminous as she peered at him. “Amorous congress is indeed glorious even when it is only a few minutes.”
“It is you who is glorious.”
“I know that, too,” she said with sweet arrogance.
An indefinable feeling wrenched inside James’s heart, too deep and unreachable for him to understand. James cleaned her with his handkerchief, helped her dress and then hugged her close, kissing her mouth with a tenderness that surprised him. His heart started to pound, and he kissed the top of her head, refusing to complicate matters by wondering why everything with Elizabeth Armstrong felt so … damn right.
CHAPTER13
Acouple of days later, James descended the grand staircase of his mother’s townhouse with a hint of amusement playing on his lips as he took in the sight before him. His mother stood in the hallway, dressed in an exquisite gown perfectly embodying the latest fashion trends. Despite her fifty-three years and that silver-peppered auburn hair, she carried an air of undeniable elegance and vigor that belied her age. Over the last five years, she had received three marriage proposals but had dismissed each one, preferring to maintain her esteemed status as the formidable Duchess of Basil.
“How peculiar,” James drawled as he reached the bottom of the stairs, his brow arching in mild disbelief. “The note I received a few hours ago claimed you had fainted from a dreadful megrim. And now here you are, dressed for a ball?”
“James,” his mother replied with a warm smile, seemingly unfazed by his skepticism. “I thought you had left.”
He chuckled lightly. “I was reading in your library, madam, waiting for the physician to arrive before I take my leave. However, given that Dr. Barnet has yet to arrive you did not summon him.”
“In the library?” She turned a quelling look toward the butler, her tone one of reprimand. “I was not informed you were still here.”
“Hmm,” James murmured, stepping closer to press a kiss on her cheek. “If you wish for me to visit, Mother, a note without melodramatics would also suffice.”
“Would it?” she countered, her eyes narrowing.
