Page 79 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
Chapter 20
Torment had never felt so spectacularly wonderful. She was a novice, but also an incredibly sharp woman, which meant she had no trouble at all discerning exactly what to do, although he suspected his moans and groans and occasional “Devil take you” led her in the right direction.
When he went to caress her, she moved his hands over his head and ordered, “No touching.”
Torment. Pure torment not to be able to comb his fingers through her short silken strands or graze them along her satiny skin.
She nibbled on his earlobe, swept her tongue over his ear, which had always been incredibly sensitive. She whispered something provocative and naughty.
He furrowed his brow. “Where did you learn that?”
“Drunkards say the naughtiest things sometimes.”
“If they said that to your face, I do hope you plowed a fist into them.”
“I don’t hold drunkards accountable for their words.”
He would if he ever heard anyone say something so inappropriate to her, a woman with whom he was now intimate. Incredibly intimate. He could still taste her on his tongue, feel her breasts in his hands, hear her cries of pleasure echoing around him. He’d known she’d be fierce when it came to lovemaking, would pour her entirety into it just as she poured all that she was into every aspect of her life.
Sitting up with her hip against his, gently, tenderly, she leaned over and kissed the puckered scar at his shoulder. “Is it hurting?” she asked.
It ached, but then it always did. He feared it always would. “No.”
She rolled her thumb and forefinger around his nipples until they hardened into little balls. “I didn’t wash these,” she said. “It seemed too intimate. I shall wash them now.”
His entire body grew taut as she lapped at the brown discs as though they contained cream and she were a cat intent on sipping every last drop. His growl rumbled from deep within his chest, and he caught sight of her secretive smile. Dear Lord, but she touched him in more ways than he could count, touched parts of him deep inside he hadn’t even known existed.
Pushing herself up, she took a leisurely perusal of his body, from his messed hair to his feet, and he wondered where she might go next.
She chose his thigh, to the scar there. Then through half-lowered lids she looked at him very much as he suspected he’d gazed at her when he’d been nestled intimately between her thighs. No, he hadn’t looked at her like that at all, not saucily, not wickedly, not so temptingly.
She wrapped her hand around his cock. It jumped. He jumped. Stealthily she inched forward, all the while holding his gaze as though daring him not to look away, holding him captive as effectively as if she’d bound him in irons. She ran her tongue around her lips until they glistened with dewy dampness. He grew so tense his muscles began to ache.
Lowering her head, she kissed the tip of his cock, then lapped at the dew that had gathered there.
“Christ!” He made a move to sit up. Her hand shot up, her fingers splayed against his chest, stopping him. Using little more than her brown-green eyes, she issued her command and pressed him back down. “Gillie—”
“Shh. My turn.”
Using her tongue, she stroked the full length of the underside, and he feared he might embarrass himself by spilling his seed then and there. She closed her mouth around him and the heat spread throughout his entire body.
Oh, yes, she was a quick learner, his princess. She tormented him with flicks of her tongue, swirls, long slow strokes. If he hadn’t gone ages without a woman he might have been able to last longer. If she weren’t the one doing these incredible things to him, if he didn’t have a need to possess her so desperately, perhaps he could have lasted longer. But he wanted her fully, completely, absolutely. He needed her as he’d never needed or wanted anything in his entire life.
“Gillie,” he repeated, closing his hands around her arms. “Do your damage another way. Straddle me, take me deep within you.”
Thank God, she did as he bid, placing her knees on either side of his hips, taking hold of his aching and throbbing cock, and positioning it at her opening. Closing her eyes, she enveloped him. When he encountered her barrier, he grabbed her hips, thrust his own. Her small cry tore at his heart. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head and sank farther down until she’d taken him to the hilt. “You feel so good. I understand now why people sin.”
“This isn’t a sin, Gillie. Not when the yearning and desire are so great.” He’d almost used the wordlove, but the thought of loving her this deeply, this desperately terrified him and he couldn’t give voice to his feelings. All he knew was that no one had ever touched his heart and soul as she did. No one had ever mattered as much as she did. He, who had thought himself incapable of love, was floundering with the knowledge she made him question all he’d ever known about himself.
Cradling her hips between his hands, he guided her as she began to ride him, meeting his thrusts, rocking against him. He watched the wonder spread over her features, could feel the tightening of her muscles around him as their tempo increased into a frenzy, as their gasps and groans filled the air. Clenching him tightly, she cried out her release. As gently, but as quickly as he could, he lifted her off him as his own release tore through him, rocking him to his core as he made a vain attempt to roll to his side and spill his seed into his hand. Instead he made a mess of it.
Pressing her body, against his, she covered his hand with her own. With his free arm, he held her close, wondering if his heart would ever return to a normal speed or if it would always pump with the wild abandon spurred by her nearness.
Making love was not the tidy thing she’d always thought it to be, and yet as she lounged on the bed, waiting—as he’d instructed—for him to come to her, she couldn’t deny there was something incredibly masculine about him standing at the water basin cleaning himself up. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we simply took another bath?” she asked.
Chuckling low, he walked over holding a damp washrag. “I haven’t the strength to prepare another bath.”
