Page 68 of Wedded to the Ruthless Duke

He stood and unfastened his trousers, licking his lips when she looked back at him over her shoulder, so she knew that he liked her taste. Her back arched again, accenting her curves in all the right areas as he moved his length toward her.

He needed her. He wanted to take her fast, but he also knew it was so soon after he had taken her the first time that she might still be sore. Not wanting to hurt her again, after all he had done to hurt her feelings that evening, he took her slowly at first.

He nudged his length inside of her, watching as she looked down at the cushion again. Her hair, wild about her head, hid her completely from view as moans escaped her lips.

He rocked into her, slowly, his hands running over every part of her he could reach. He sometimes gripped her hips, other times her whole rear. He even reached forward and slipped his hands under her chemise, taking hold of her breasts and squeezing softly as he rocked into her.

Her moans grew faster, but he wasn’t ready for this to end. Not just yet.

He pulled himself out of her and took her waist, urging her to stand and face him. She was breathless, bright pink in the face, her bottom lip almost red from where she had bitten it in an effort to stifle her moans.

He raised a hand and ran his thumb across that lip, thinking of how much they had kissed, of how he would be the only one to bite that lip.

She cannot take a lover. The mere thought of her doing so… it enrages me.

He kissed her again, taking that lip and sucking on it as he wanted to do. When she was dithering, her hands reaching for his shoulders, he urged her down onto the hearth rug.

He lifted her chemise over her head and threw it aside, just as he kicked off the last of his trousers too. When they were completely naked, he laid himself over her, raising her knees high around his hips, though he didn’t quite enter her again yet.

He stared down at her instead, taking in the sight of her, of the way her eyes gazed up at him. It was as if she had been waiting for this, wanting him as much as he had longed for her all day.

This is far from any normal attraction, Grace. I know that.

Yet he didn’t say it. He bent forward and kissed her again, taking hold of her knees and lifting them high, so she was nearly bent in half, then he entered her.

The sounds she made were so perfect that he stopped kissing her. He hovered his face over hers instead, watching as her lips parted into the perfect ‘o’ shape. She moaned his name, her eyes closed with the pleasure then they opened again, watching him.

Her heat and wetness were his undoing. He was so close to his end, but he was determined to have her there with him so that they could tumble over that precipice together, just the two of them.

“Hold onto me,” he pleaded in a husky tone. She did as he asked, wrapping her arms up around his back and clinging onto his shoulders. He loved that grip.

It grounded him, allowing him to thrust into her faster, to take her with such heat and purpose that she was dithering with his touch.

“Ah, God, Grace,” he started moaning, unable to stay silent anymore. “You’re mine,” he whispered, bending over her. “Say it,” he pleaded as he buried his head in her neck.

“I’m yours, Philip.”

It was the thing that tipped him over the edge, hearing those words.

He thrust into her again, driving his hands onto the rug on either side of her head. As he did so, she reached her climax too. As he had hoped for, they fell into that oblivion together with him constantly rocking their bodies together, sating their need for one another.

With such pleasure overwhelming him, he could not think straight. It felt like very little blood was left in his head at all. He had to rock forward and rest his weight fully on his arms on either side of her as they both panted, trying to come down from their pleasure.

He couldn’t think about what it meant to desire Grace this much or to be enraged by any other man even looking at her, let alone touching her. He also couldn’t think about why Grace’s signs of tears had crushed him.

All he could think about was Grace and this feeling.

He bent over her, moving his lips against hers. It was soft, sensual, and when she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deeper embrace, he happily molded his body to hers, not even considering pulling out of her any time soon.

When they did part their lips, he buried his face in her neck for a while, just inhaling her scent. Her fingers ran up and down his spine in the most tantalizing and yet soft way. It was an indulgence, a gentleness that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly into the curve of her neck, their bodies still connected.

“For what?” she asked as her hands stopped moving. He raised himself up a few inches, the better to look into her eyes.

She was still pink cheeked from what they had done, her lips red, too, in the most delicious way.

“For stealing your freedom tonight,” he whispered. “You’re right, I should not have done that.”

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