Page 40 of My Dark Duke

Thorncastle groaned, momentarily unable to respond. He placed his hand over hers and guided it into a stroking motion. Once she had grasped the rhythm, he then moved his hand to her breast.

“You dressed,” he noted, with a frown, though he did not give her a chance to mount a defense. Instead, he captured her lips, kissing her slowly and languidly, the opposite of their frenetic embraces the night before.

His fingers found her nipples beneath the thick material covering them, and they gently teased them until they were hard and aching for his mouth against them.

Lillian, whose hand was still clasped around his thick girth, moving it upwards and downwards, mewled with displeasure.

“I quite agree,” Thorncastle replied, his eyes glinting wickedly.

In a moment, he had maneuvered it so she was beneath him, and in another, her nightgown was discarded upon the floor.

“We should make it a rule you are never dressed in my presence,” Thorncastle decided, as his eyes ravished her body.

“I don’t believe that would be very practical,” Lillian replied, both amused and aroused by his obvious admiration for her form.

“Dash practical,” Thorncastle murmured, lowering his head to capture one of her nipples in his mouth.

Lillian moaned as his hot mouth encased her aching nub. As he suckled upon it, jolts of desire stirred deep inside her. She needed to feel him within her, to feel filled by him.

Impatiently she arched her back, presenting herself for him to take. If she had not been so consumed by need, she might have blushed at her flagrant behaviour - not that Thorncastle complained.

He positioned himself between her legs, gently stroking her lips with the head of his manhood.

“Are you certain you’re not too sore?” he whispered, with somewhat tardy chivalry.

“I’m fine,” she answered, with a smile. “Excepting the fact that you’re leaving me wanting…”

He raised an amused brow, still teasing her lips by pushing against her, but not quite giving her what she desired.

He brought his free hand to her nub, stroking it absently. Lillian’s breath constricted, as his action caused her muscles within to clench. He did it deliberately; driving her to distraction for his own amusement. It was the most pleasurable torture one could imagine.

“Please,” she whimpered, unashamedly begging him for mercy. “Don’t tease me.”

He stroked her for a moment longer, his eyes dark with mischief, but then she bucked her hips, and whatever resolve he’d held crumbled.

“Temptress,” he groaned, as he pulled her towards him, and thrust himself inside her.

Lillian gasped, as she felt herself stretch to accommodate his thick member. He felt so large, pressing against her walls, consuming all she had to offer him.

Last night, he had lain down atop her, but this morning he remained kneeling and lifted her hips, so she came to meet him.

He thrust slowly inside her, his eyes burning with hunger.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded her, his voice hoarse.

She whimpered, bringing her hands to her womanhood. She rubbed her fingers against the pearl of her desire, as Thorncastle thrust, harder and harder. Her need became more frantic, her blood pounded through her veins as she sought release.

At last, she reached her peak, and for one earth-shattering moment, she was consumed by pure bliss, as she broke into waves of pleasure.

Her gasps of rapture pushed the duke over the edge; he gave one last thrust, before he pulled himself from inside her and spilled hot liquid upon her belly.

Even in her dazed pleasure, Lillian felt somewhat confused. Had he done the same last night? Had she been too lost to her senses to notice?

Thorncastle came to lie beside her a few moments, his breath heavy as he struggled to regain his composure. After a few moments, he spoke.

“Let me get you something for that,” he said, waving a lazy hand in the direction of her abdomen.

He rolled from the bed and padded across the floor to where he had left his jacket. From its pocket, he extracted a handkerchief and when he returned to her, he used it to gently clean Lillian’s stomach.

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