Page 90 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his lips trailing a path to a sweet spot just behind her ear. He bit down lightly as his fingers found her center.

She gasped at the pleasure. He stroked her softly, gently, in the most scintillating of ways. He took her to the edge of pleasure but didn’t quite rock her thoroughly with it.

“Oh…” Breathless moans escaped her as she tried to rock her hips against his fingers. His other hand pressed her against his chest so she couldn’t rock into his hand. “Keith!”

He chuckled in her ear. “Remember when I told ye that maybe ye just hadn’t met a man who made ye want to obey?” he whispered, biting her earlobe.

She hadn’t expected the sudden spiral of pleasure in her gut that came from it.

“I remember…” she whispered.

He’d said it outside, the night of their first kiss at Lady Arundel’s house.

“Then obey, Celia,” he whispered in the most tantalizing of ways.

Part of her mind screamed that she would never obey his orders, but then his finger slid deeper into her.

Maybe there is nothing wrong with obeying his orders in the bedchamber every now and then.

“Stay still,” he urged.

She stilled as his fingers explored her.

He started with one finger, then he slid in a second one, stretching her again. Each time his fingers touched a spot inside her that made her want to scream out in pleasure. He knew exactly what he was doing, just how to touch her and make her writhe with pleasure.

“Now.” His lips moved back to her ear. “Hold on to the side of the tub.”

He pushed her forward in the bath. Some of the water splashed over the rim, though neither of them cared. Kneeling, she gripped the rim of the tub as she felt his fingers caress her rear beneath the water.

He must have found the soap somewhere in the bathtub, for he was suddenly using it to soap up her back and rear, reaching every part of her he could. He even toyed with her cleft, making her spread her legs as wide as the tub would permit.

Then she felt him. His length was nudging her entrance, once more teasing her with the promise of pleasure but not quite entering her.

“Keith,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Beg me,” he ordered suddenly.

“Beg you?” she repeated in amazement. He pulled his hips back a little. The torment was killing her. “Ah, please, Keith! Please, just… make love to me again.”

Then his length was back. He pushed into her without teasing her this time.

Her body stretched to accommodate him. With the lubrication from the bathwater, he slid into her easily. Any soreness she had felt was gone now.

He moved slowly, teasingly, brushing against that spot inside her that so badly needed his attention. She kept herself still, following his previous order as she gripped the rim of the tub.

His hands explored her, moving down her shoulder blades and the curve of her back to her rear and hips. He moved a little faster, not too hard, but just increasing the pace.

She knew he was being careful. Despite her words, he was clearly cautious of causing her more pain. Yet, every part of what he was doing was thrilling her.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.

“I have no intention of stopping,” he assured her, bending over her and biting down softly on her shoulder.

It somehow took her body to new heights of pleasure, and she had to work hard not to rock back against him as he thrust into her. Within seconds, she was teetering on the edge, her whole body wound tight with pleasure.

“Ye’re going to climax for me?” he said huskily in her ear. “Come on, Celia. Let me feel ye…”

It was as if her body had waited for his order. It was sudden, her walls tightening around his length. Her back arched as every muscle in her body seized. As she gasped and moaned, she could hear him growling behind her. He quickened his thrusts, and that’s when she felt it—his release. It somehow made their connection feel deeper, even more intimate, as they came down from their climaxes together.

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