Page 6 of When the Duke Comes to Play…
Lest she melt completely, she twisted her fingers in the lapels of his jacket. Absently, she wondered at the fineness of the fabric and stitching, of the patterned silk waistcoat pressed flush with her breasts, but all thoughts were dashed away as his hand drifted from her chin to the throbbing pulse in her throat, to the soft skin of her collarbone, and the deep crevasse of her décolletage.
The graze of a fingertip traced the line of her cleavage, down to the neckline of her gown, drew a lazy pattern on the swell of her ample breast. The circles grew smaller as he neared the budding peak of her nipple.
“Are you well?” Charles asked, sounding almost pained. All capabilities of speech had fled her at that point and Ariel could only nod. She wasn’t sure how well she was, she just knew she didn’t want him to stop. The things he was doing made her skin unbearably hot. Every sweep of his tongue made her long to pull him closer until they were one. She whimpered when he nibbled her lower lip, so strong was the
crashing wave of desire as it spread throughout her like fire catching the parched grasses at the end of a hot summer. She was kindling beneath his touch, primed and ready to ignite.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the pad of his finger rasped against her erect, aching nipple through the silk of her dress. A gasp was ripped from her throat and she unwillingly tore her mouth from his as his large palm cupped the ample weight of her breast.
Testing it. Savoring it. Kneading it with infinite reverence. Though she was untried, her body seemed to know what to do and it arched her into his touch. She subconsciously begged for more. She wanted to feel him tweak her nipple with nothing between them—to pluck the taut thread of desire strung through her body until she vibrated with it like a harp.
“Mmmm,” he purred, his baritone voice further melting her. “You are sensitive here, aren’t you? She caught half a glimpse of a wicked smile before he ducked his head and elicited another gasp from her throat. “I am very much going to enjoy this.”
All thoughts fled her mind like a bird from a window when Charles replaced his fingers with his mouth, sucking, nibbling, and laving her with the flat of his tongue. The wetness soaking through the fabric of her bodice and underthings only heightened the sensations unleashed within her.
Ariel’s hands flew to his head, pressing him closer, burying his face against her, and she learned that his hair was, indeed, even softer than it appeared. She relished the curls winding about her fingers, thrilled when he emitted a tiny moan after she gave the locks an experimental tug, nearly giddy when he demonstrated an unexpected amount of strength as he dipped and wrapped his arms beneath her bottom, standing and then slinging her over his shoulder.
“Oh! Oh, please don’t!” Ariel was briefly mortified as she braced her palms on the broad plane of his back…until she realized he wasn’t struggling against her weight in the least.
“Surely you cannot fault me for my eagerness,” Charles replied lightly as he strode to her bed and dropped her gently to the thick mattress. “Not when your touch is so exciting.” His smoldering eyesraked her from head to toe. “Not when you look like you do.” Ariel felt her cheeks flare anew and she believed those words, fool girl that she was. It was difficult not to feel emboldened by the intensity of this man’s gaze, the hintof a needy rasp in his deep voice. Throwing all common sense to the wind, Ariel raised her arms and opened them to Charles. The man seemed only too happy to oblige as he quickly finished shrugging from his coat and unwinding his cravat. Dropping both to the floor, he pounced upon her, carefully balancing his weight to press just enough of it against her aching nipples as his mouth cov- ered hers once more. The hard length of one powerful thigh nudged her legs apart to rub ever so subtly against the growing moisture collecting at the juncture there. Her pelvis arched and searched for more pressure, but Charles would only allow her a taste before he retreated just far enough that she could not quite obtain that which her body desired. He flashed her a most wicked grin when she emitted a small, involuntary whimper of frustration; his mouth covered hers once more the next moment, his skillful tongue slipping between her lips once more to trace the fine edge of her teeth and tangle with hers. Ariel kissed him back, gaining confidence with every stroke of his tongue and softening of her muscles. Her legs fell open wider and he rewarded her with more pressure of his firm thigh against that secret place between them.
He laid himself a little more flush atop her and she experienced the thick, marble-like ridge of his manhood pressing through the layers of the fabric between them to brand the soft mound of her lower belly.
Before she had time to grow too nervous, Charles lifted his head just enough to speak against her mouth. “You may touch me.” Kiss. “In fact…” Kiss. “I insist you do so.” Another kiss that melted her limbs to the point she was afraid she would be unable to feel him if she did wrap her body around him.
To her ecstatic delight, she did feel the swell of his broad shoulders with her palms, she was able to trace the sharp lines of his collarbone beneath the fine linen of his crisp white shirt, and she could savor the slight undulation of the impressive musclesspanning his back with every one of his minuscule thrusts. She was rewarded with a sharp hiss of pleasure when she ran experimental nails down his spine and then up his trim sides and the bumps of his ribs. The response emboldened her in a new way.
“You seem to be rather sensitive as well.”
The feral glint in Charles’ eyes made her heart skip frantically in her breast.
“I think it’s time we divest you of these cumbersome clothes.” His tone was dangerous, but far from frightening. She floated upon this curious cloud of nerves and excitement, barely aware as Charles lifted her up once more and, in between more kisses, caresses, and nibbles, began to undress her with startlingly—or not-so-startlingly—practiced ease until she remained only in her thin shift, stockings, and garters. Charles pulled back and rose, bracing himself with one knee on the bed and the other foot on the floor as his eyes traced every one of her curves with animalistic appreciation. They lingered upon the swell of her hips and the dusky shadows of her nipples. Ariel sat up on her elbows and her rose-gold curls tumbled around her face and shoulders—the man really must have been a magician to remove her hairpins without her realizing! She nibbled her lip and made the sudden decision to ride out this wave of confidence.
“Will you remove your clothing as well, sir?”
One of his dark brows cocked at her question; the tilt of his lips made her weak all over again. Without speaking or removing his eyes from hers, Charles undid his cuffs and the closures along the front of his shirt, collecting the glinting silver fastenings in his large palm be- fore setting them on the small table beside her bed. She swallowed hard when he untucked the garment from his breeches and slid it from his shoulders to reveal a chest the likes of which she hadn’t thought existedin nature. He was all lean lines and angles hewn as if by Michelangelo’s chisel. He was smooth save for a light dusting of dark whorls at the center of his chest. The defined ridges of his abdomen teased her ever so naughtily before they disappeared beneath the fitted waist of his breeches. Surely, her eyes must have been as wide as saucers, but Charles was kind enough—or savvy enough—not to comment or mock her inexperience.
“The next move is yours, Ariel.” She hadn’t thought the mixture of vowels and consonants comprising her name lent themselves to a purr, but Charles managed it with impressive ease.
Pulling her lips between her teeth, she slid to the edge of the bed and stood, her body so close to Charles’ that she could feel the heat rolling off his naked flesh. She swiftly undid her garters and slid her stockings from her legs. Without pausing to overthink it, she lifted her shift over her head and added it to the growing pile of garments scat- tered near the bed—the tangible proof of her recklessly abandoned inhibitions.
Though she didn’t look up into his face, she watched him take a few steps back and she could feel the caress of his gaze from head to toe. The room was warm, but she shivered. As a reflex, she crossed her arms over her ample bosom. The gesture was useless but somehow necessary. The heat of her flush seeped from her face to her throat, it warmed her chest and tinted the pale flesh of her breasts pink.
“It is natural for a woman to be shy the first time she is unclothed before a man,” Charles murmured kindly. His tone was as warm as his molten eyes when she finally met them. “But you should never be ashamed.”
“I am not ashamed,” Ariel spoke as adamantly as possible, though she feared the slight warble gave her away. She knew she was not like other women—she was too tall, too curvaceous, too unconventional, too…her. She had come to love her body,but she also recognized that not everyone felt the same. She could have possessed the proportions deemed perfect in Society and she doubted she’d feel any differently about the situation, laid quite literally bare as she was. This was vulnerability in its rawest form. She didn’t think she could weather it if Charles demonstrated even a flicker of hesitancy.
“I’m glad of it,” he rasped hoarsely. “Because it would be a tragedy above all others for this body to be hidden away.”
Her heart’s pace redoubled. Surely he only said such things because he was being paid for the evening. Surely he said such things to all the women he was with.
But all of her mental ramblings were silenced when Charles’ gaze raked over her, as palpable as if he’d touched her with the fiery brand of his fingers.
And then he really was touching her. He gently removed her arms from her breasts, which suddenly felt heavier beneath his assessing eyes.
His pupils dilated, nearly swallowing the irises whole.
“Give a spin,” he whispered harshly with a small twirl of a finger in a gesture more lighthearted than its owner appeared.
