Page 42 of Any Duke in a Storm

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to lead you along.”

He tipped her chin up, making sure their eyes met. Her gaze scoured his face. Nothing in his expression showed frustration, disappointment, or deception. “You did not lead me anywhere I didn’t want to go, so put that nonsense out of your head, Viking, or so help me, you’ll get another tongue-lashing that will keep you on the edge for hours.”

Lisbeth couldn’t help her smile before she pinned her lips. “I would not complain. The first was quite tolerable.”

He lifted an outraged brow. “Justtolerable? That was the performance of a century, I’ll have you know.”

“Your hubris is showing, Pirate.”

With a low laugh at her reply, Saint shook his head. “Were I a lesser man, I would be shredded by such an undeserved, harsh assessment, but I know my skills. Andtrust me, chérie, you would not have come so hard on my tongue and fingers if you hadn’t enjoyed those abilities to the fullest.”

Heat filled her anew as she clenched her trembling thighs together, recalling just how talented his tongue had been. He wasn’t wrong. With a playful grin, he shifted to gather the clothing they’d strewn about, reaching for hers first. If it wasn’t for the fact that they were both naked, and yes, that she’d just had the quickest orgasm in recent history, one could think they were having a chat on the upper decks. It was so easy to be with him, even the midst of whateverthisawkwardness was.

“Raphael, wait.”

He canted his head to the side. “What is it?”

Lisbeth let out a measured breath, her gaze dropping to the thick erection that wasn’t quite as angry as it had been before, but was still swollen. She felt her cheeks heat, recollecting the way he’d praised her.Good girl.Why the hell did those two words have such a filthy effect on her? They made her want to roll over like a puppy, show him her belly, and beg him to scratch it. “I was good, wasn’t I? I…behaved.”

He stiffened, eyes narrowing on her and her husky tones, despite her balking on the last. With one brow arched, his lips tilted into a slight smirk, curling up one side of his mouth. “Yes, you did.”

“So then…” Lisbeth faltered but pushed on. It was too late to change her mind now, and besides, shewantedto do this for him. She wanted to please him. She wasn’ta woman who required praise to perform, but in this instance, his approval brought her pleasure, too. However, that did not mean she’d be meek. “I deserve my reward.”

Raphael went so still she wasn’t sure if he was breathing, but then a shallow intake of air slipped through his lips. “Which is?”

God, that voice was pure seduction, the deep notes pulsating through her. She might not be ready for the act, but the raw desire he made her feel could not be denied.

“I want to watch you. On this table in my place. Showing me what you like.”

Air hissed out of him. “Viking.”

Lisbeth slid off the table and walked around him, letting her fingertips drift over the tantalizing rise of his bare arse. “Show me how you handle that monster with your own two hands, or was that an empty, shallow boast?”

“Lisbeth…”

“It’sCaptainto you.” She settled her naked body into the captain’s chair on the other side of the table, propping one knee up and knowing exactly the lewd vision she presented when his eyes rounded and his mouth went slack. The tattoo on his chest flexed as his muscles clenched. “Now, be a good duke and obey my orders. Stroke yourself for me.”

Those gray eyes flashed at the command, but he dropped the shirt in his hands and fisted his cock obediently instead. Pleasure unspooled like honey in her veins. Lisbeth had expected his large palm to dwarf his length, but if anything, it was proportionate in size. Big hands…big everything else.

A groan broke free from him as he worked from root to crown, but he kept his eyes fastened on hers as if every ounce of ecstasy he experienced belonged solely to her. Lisbeth bit her lip as he rubbed the moisture at his tip into the head, thumb flicking over the glimmering piercing and making his big body twitch.

“Again and slowly,” she demanded and exhaled when he complied. “How does it feel?”

“Trop bon. Tu me rends fou.” His reply was guttural. The switch to French told her how close to the edge he was and they’d barely started.Good, she wanted him unraveling as fast as she had. Tendons flexed and quivered with strain, her eyes drawn to the slow, precise movements of his hand. God, how could forearms be so bloody sinful? Thick, veined, bronzed, and covered in dark hair, they oozed raw sensuality.

“Grip yourself tighter,” she told him. With a low snarl, he braced one palm on the edge of the table, veins popping and muscles bunching in his broad chest as he obeyed. Her eyes shifted to the fingers currently gripping his leaking cock in an unforgiving vise, admiring the bunch of his heavy thighs and the flex of his buttocks as he strained into his fist. Fuck if he wasn’t the most erotic thing she’d ever seen…that lean body hunched with tension, his stomach muscles contracting with each thrust, and a molten stareburninginto hers.

“What else does my captain command?” he rasped.

Holy hell, she could feel the moisture dripping between her legs. She’d wanted him to find completion;she hadn’t expected to feel soinvolved…so wrapped up in the pleasure he was wringing from himself. But each measured snap of his hips into his own palm made her core clench like a greedy fiend.

“Fuck your hand faster,” she commanded, her own voice hoarse as she dropped her propped knee to press her throbbing thighs together…squirming in her seat to offset the mounting pressure between them. He obliged beautifully, working himself at a furious pace, and she was already on the brink of another orgasm just from watching him chase his release. Her hand slid down to her mound, his hot stare tracking the movement as she dragged a fingertip in her wetness.

“Bloody hell, Lisbeth, I’m going to spend.”

“Don’t.”

His motions went jerky before halting, confusion twisting his lips into a grimace as he panted. “What?” he gritted out, tendons popping in his shoulders and chest glimmering with sweat as he fought for control…to bring himself back from the brink. “Why?”

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