“Answer,” he said, placing a bruising kiss on the side of her neck.
Another pinch, and Catherine rocked her hips. Desperation rose within her. “Yes,” she breathed. “Please.”
That ache grew inside her until her body shivered beneath his ministrations. He chuckled and swept her hair over her right shoulder. “Please, what?”
His Grace kissed her neck.
“I—I do not know. It…” Catherine trailed off, trying to find the proper words.
But everything was so hot, and need unlike any she had ever felt before swelled within her. A low whine tore from her throat.
“Oh, that is a delightful sound, my blushing bride,” His Grace said.
He wrapped his right arm around her chest, while his left drifted lower. Catherine’s nails dug into the back of the loveseat. His Grace’s hand drifted over her ribs and down her stomach. As he neared that aching place between her legs, Catherine tossed her head back and groaned.
He did not touch her there. Instead, he traced her hips and swept back up. His fingers grasped her left buttock, and she jolted against him. Her thighs were damp and warm with the proof of her desire, and Catherine felt as if she might come undone if he did not just—just?—
Stop. Keep going.
“I had thought to take you to the bed, like a proper duchess,” His Grace growled, “but you are so eager that I doubt you will make it to the bedchamber. Perhaps, I should deflower you right here.”
Catherine’s face flushed with heat. Was that something that happened? Brides taken over loveseats and rather than beds? Her mind raced, as she tried to find some witty reply to the suggestion.
His Grace’s thumb found her entrance, flicking over that place of pulsing need. Catherine shouted, as the feelings grew andgrew, and she felt the sense ofalmostachieving something. His Grace pinched her nipple hard, and the world seemed to burst around her.
Black spots dotted Catherine’s vision, as she rode a wave of pleasure. It was a most wondrous feeling! Her breath came in loud gasps for air, and her chest heaved. “What was that?” she asked. “What did you do to me?”
Could he make her feel that way once again? He chuckled darkly. “The French call itpetit mort, the little death.”
An odd name! But if that was death, it wasglorious.
She bucked her hips and arched her back, silently urging the duke to continue. There was a slight pinch as his thumb entered her, but His Grace seemed to realize that there would be some discomfort, for he stroked her entrance with his forefinger..
“Do you like that?” the duke murmured.
“I—I do not know,” she said, her hips bucking without any conscious thought on her part.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, it just feels strange.”
His Grace chuckled. “I see. That is to be expected.”
He kept his thumb inside her, while his other fingers caressed her folds, up and down. Her legs quivered, as the anticipation of that nameless thing grew inside her. All her muscles tightened.
He rubbed quickly, and Catherine felt a dull rush of embarrassment that he wouldnoticethe dampness of her desire. His Grace worked her with his fingers until she felt as though she might come undone, for there was certainly no possible way for any human being to be this tight inside.
She was wet and trembling by the time he withdrew his hand. Her breath came in haphazard pants, as she endeavored to clasp that nameless sensation building inside her that left her hot withneedfor something for which she had no words.
“I think my duchess is ready now,” he murmured.
His hand left her breast, and Catherine looked over her shoulder. Her body felt tense and sensitive, and she still trembled with the force of the pleasure she had found. He unfastened his trousers and freed his member. Catherine gasped, her eyes fixed on it. Although she had no real reference for comparison, it looked as though he was impossibly huge.
“I like this,” he said. “Bend lower and spread your thighs.”
“You are…” Catherine licked her lips anxiously. “You are really going to deflower me over the loveseat.”
He pumped his thumb inside her, and Catherine clenched her thighs together around his hand. Her hips jerked forward, her body reacting to his touch without conscious thought.