Page 93 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

His fingers slid from her, but before she could do more than inhale, his cock had replaced them.

They both groaned.

He knelt between her legs, his cock spearing upward into her, and reached forward to grasp her other breast. The dew from her desire was sticky across her nipple, and she whimpered when she realized it. The sensation of being trapped—trapped by him—made her pulse pound. Who would’ve guessed she would enjoy his rough handling?

But dear Lord in Heaven, she did.

He began to move, slowly at first. Each twitch of his hips pulled his cock in and out of her opening, just the smallest amount.

It felt…

It felt…

So.

Very.

Good.

Exhaling, Felicity allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder, which earned her a murmured, “Good lass,” and his speed increased. Thank goodness she was holding onto the headboard, because in moments, it was possibly the only thing anchoring her to this earth.

It, and him.

How could she feel so close to release in such a short amount of time?

His thrusts were deeper now, faster. Stronger. From this angle, Griffin was hitting something different and completely perfect…with each plunge, the tip of his cock met a spot deep inside her which had her moaning, until she was making just one long sound of need.

One of his hands dropped to her curls, as the other rose. His callused palm cupped her throat, claiming her in the most primitive way.

When the pad of his thumb found her clitoris, she gasped and hunched forward, curling around him—all of him.

He continued to thrust, and this angle was even better. She was all but dangling from the headboard, speared by him, again and again, and when she squeezed her eyes shut, all she saw was white light.

Then he pinched her pearl, and the light exploded into a million colors.

Her orgasm carried her higher and higher, her inner muscles squeezing, milking, desperate for more more more more, until she forgot to breathe.

Forgot to be.

She was just a floating bundle of sensations, each spasm more pleasurable than the last, each more incredible.

And he carried her, carried her farther and farther, higher than she thought possible.

Until, with a mighty roar, he pulled his cock from her and slid it along the cleft of her arse. She felt hot liquid spill onto her skin, then again, and again, and again, each pump burning her, claiming her, branding her.

Oh. My. Goodness.

Felicity sucked in a breath, trying to remember how to exist.

She hadn’t expected existing to be this difficult.

Luckily, Griffin seemed more aware, more capable of rational thought. While she hung there, knuckles cramping from how hard she was holding that headboard, she felt him pull away and climb from the bed.

Before she could register his absence, he was back, a warm, damp cloth sliding between her nether lips, then along her arse. He was cleaning her.

She lifted her head, blearily watching him as he cleaned himself, then tossed the towel somewhere and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness once more.

Funny, it wasn’t nearly as cold as her room.

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