Page 42 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin

“Then it shall be my pleasure to guide you.”

His voice, low and guttural, rasped against her senses, more visceral than if he had reached out and touched her himself.

“Close your eyes, Duchess,” he told her.

She did as he instructed, but it only made her predicament worse. Without sight, she now felteverything.

“Now, touch your neck slightly. Allow your fingers to trail over your skin ever so gently.”

She followed him, noting briefly the warmth of her cheeks before her fingers drifted to her neck, and she shuddered. Beneath her fingertips, she felt her pulse jumping.

“Lower, Duchess…”

Her fingers had reached her collarbone now, skirting the lacy edge of the neckline of her dress. Her breath seemed to come out in little gasps as her chest strained against the fabric that seemed to have become too tight. Too restricting.

“Good girl.”

His softly worded praise seemed to swell within her.

“Now, touch your breast, sweetheart…”

Her eyes flew open. He cannot possibly mean to?—

“I did not tell you to open your eyes, Phoebe. Close them again andtouch your breast.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she obediently palmed her breast, unsure of what he was doing.

As her fingers brushed against her nipple, she jumped just a little. “Oh!”

“You like that, Duchess?” he asked her. “You like touching your breasts?”

Phoebe bit her lower lip. It was a strange sensation, one that seemed to only heighten the throbbing between her legs.

Did she like it?

“Oh, yes…”

“Good. You can pull your dress down. It will be better without it. So much better,” he promised her.

Once, Phoebe heard of a scandal wherein a young lady had been caught with her lover, with her dress pooled around her waist. She had often wondered about it.

Now, she knew the reason why.

She pulled her sleeves down, pushing her dress and chemise down her chest. When the fabric caught on a nipple, she let out a slight squeak, and the ache between her legspulsed.

“Now, I want you to put your hand on one breast. Give it a slight squeeze, Duchess.”

Phoebe whimpered as the soft flesh filled her hand, the puckered tip nestled between her fingers. She gave it a soft squeeze as he bade her, and the sensations had her sagging into her chair.

Oh, that feels very good…

“You like that, sweetheart? You like touching and squeezing your breasts, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“Now, take that little bud between your fingers and give it a light pinch for me.”

At that point, lust had clouded Phoebe’s sensibilities so much that she could hardly think of anything. All she knew was that his guidance elicited a pleasure she had never known before.

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