Page 62 of Broken Veil
“I’m here.”
“Come and join me.”
She would. As soon as she could take it all in. If Carys had ever pictured the lord of the manor’s bedchamber, this was it.
There was a vast four-poster bed with a coat of arms carved into the headboard. There were framed landscape paintings on the honey-brown wood paneling, and a large rack of antlers decorated the wall behind a truly massive wardrobe.
Carys perched on a bench at the foot of the bed, peeking at Duncan as he hummed in the bath.
His voice echoed in the marble-tiled bathroom. “Professor Morgan, the tub is big enough for two.”
“Is this entire room yours?”
“This entire estate is mine,” he said. “Every room. Every bathroom. Every library.”
She jumped to her feet. “There’s more than one library?”
Duncan chuckled and stretched out an arm. “I should have led with that.” He opened his hand, palm out. “Come on now. You look a bit tired, lass. Come relax in the tub with me.”
Relaxation was the last thing on her mind.
All she had to do was see the drops of steaming water rolling down his massive shoulders and she was convinced. Carys toed off her shoes, pushed down her jeans, and walked barefoot to the bathroom in an oversize button-down shirt and a pair of pink panties.
She walked across the cool tile and put one foot on the edge of the tub, right next to Duncan’s shoulder. “You think I need to relax?”
His head fell back, and his eyes went straight to the juncture of her thighs. “Did I mention that everything in this house is mine?”
Carys raised one eyebrow. “Including that?”
Duncan trailed a wet finger from her anklebone, up the inside of her calf, behind her knee, and up her thigh before hedipped two fingers under her panties and into her sex, which was already damp and needy.
“Yes,” he murmured. “Especially that.”
He eased her leg into the water, spreading her wider as his fingers stroked and teased her beneath the silk.
Carys could barely breathe. The air was damp with steam from the bath. One foot was held firm in Duncan’s hand while the other was planted on the cold tile.
The sensations were a riot of contradictions. Hot and cold. Soft and firm.
Duncan stroked the arch of her foot where it rested between his legs, and Carys felt the hard length of his erection against her ankle. He licked up the inside of her knee and her thigh; then her hips arched toward his mouth as he took his fingers away, gripping her backside as his tongue stroked her clit over the thin silk.
“Duncan—” She choked on his name. “Oh God.”
She braced her hand on his wet shoulder as he scraped his teeth over the soaked material.
“I’d say take them off” —he spread his tongue and licked her over the silk— “but then I’d have to let go of you.” He pressed the tip of his tongue to her swollen clitoris and hummed. “And I like you right where you are, Professor Morgan.”
The wet silk only made her flesh more sensitive. Her desire was so close to the surface, she felt like it was seconds before his teasing tongue had her falling over the edge of climax.
Duncan pulled her into the tub, ripping her panties down her legs as she fell into the water. He caught her in his arms, fumbling with the buttons on her shirt in an attempt to bare her breasts to his hungry mouth.
“Big tub,” she managed to gasp. “This is a very big tub.”
“Oh aye.” He gave up and tore the shirt down the center, sending buttons flying as Carys straddled his legs. “Big tub. Cast it myself.”
“Oh, that’s… great. Good.” She could barely think. She wanted him in her. She wanted his thick erection filling her up, and she wanted it so much she could cry. “In me. Please. Please.”
“Shhh.” He put his hands on her hips, lifted her up, and slid her slowly down his erection, impaling her on the length of his rock-hard cock.
