Page 48 of Prelude of Love

Duke’s grip tightened. “You know I am.”

“Then say it.” I rolled my hips against him, letting him feel my growing arousal. “Tell me you want him.”

“Fuck,” Duke groaned. “Fine. Yes, I’m attracted to him. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” I captured his mouth in a deep kiss. “We could have him right here, between us. Those pretty sounds he makes when he sings? Imagine what other noises we could draw out of him.”

I enjoyed watching the play of emotions on Duke’s rugged face. A storm of desire brewed behind his eyes as I ran my fingertips along the defined planesof his chest, mapping his contours with careful reverence.

“Still trying to convince me, Duchess?” His voice was low and gravelly.

“I don’t think you need much convincing.” I leaned in, kissing his broad chest, lingering over his collarbone.

He groaned. “Damn it, you’re not making this easy for me.”

“Because your body knows what it wants, even if your mind won’t accept it.”

“I hate it when you’re right.” He gritted his teeth as his hardness strained against me.

It was tough not to gloat. “Which makes it even more enjoyable.” My lips caressed his torso, trailing kisses down his flawless form. He groaned when I teased his nipples with the tip of my tongue, then lavished attention on his pecs.

“You’re killing me here.”

Kissing my way lower, I relished the intoxicating taste of his skin, stopping just above his waist. Every inch of him was a masterpiece under my lips. “Good,” I whispered against his taut muscles quivering beneath my touch. “That’s the idea.”

I might have been torturing him a little, but who could blame me when it was so much fun? When every twitch of his body was a victory, a reminder of the power I held over my mountain of a man?

It was fun to linger there, tormenting him with thepossibility of what was to come next. Hot, deliberate exhales ghosted over his skin, raising goose bumps in their wake. The muscle in his jaw tightened as his fingers curled into the sheet, fighting his impulse to grab me and drag me where he wanted me.

“Always such a tease,” he rasped, his gaze burning into me.

“Guilty as charged.” I grinned as I let my words caress him. “But I know you love it.”

Duke’s dick was thick and long, already tipped with precum. I traced the curve of his erection with a featherlight touch. Gently stroking him, I savored the length and girth of him, loving how it jumped when I circled the sensitive head.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his hands knotting in the sheets, restraint evident with each clench of his jaw.

I flicked my tongue out to taste him, letting the heat and dampness of my mouth tease him from base to tip. The salt-sweet flavor of his precum made my erection throb with anticipation.

“Stop torturing me and put that mouth to work,” Duke growled.

As fun as it was to torture him, I was also trying to get him to agree to my plans. I let him slide in, my lips closing around the head.

“That’s it,” he sighed. “Drink me down.”

I lowered my head, taking him deeper, my tongue gliding along the sensitive underside where he was most responsive. It never stopped thrilling me to turnDuke into a mess of stutters and demands. Watching him lose all semblance of his steely composure was the ultimate high. His vulnerability was a gift he gave only to me.

He gripped the sheets tighter, his broad shoulders shaking with the effort to stay still, to not thrust wildly into my willing mouth. I stroked the base of his cock with my hand, my tongue painting lazy circles around the head to tease him as I got him wet.

I let more of his length slide deeper, taking him down my throat, thanks to my nonexistent gag reflex. I hollowed my cheeks as I sucked with a moan.

He trembled, fighting to keep from giving in completely. Duke’s nature was to always be commanding, but in the dim light of the bedroom, with my mouth wrapped around his length, I was in full control. Here, he was utterly mine.

My erection ached with a need to be touched, but I stayed focused on making my husband come undone. I sped up my rhythm, my hand keeping the pace as I sucked him harder, pulling every delicious sound out of him, never wanting to stop. He was at my mercy, submitting to the pleasure I drew out of him.

When he reached out to entangle his fingers in my hair, I knew I was making progress. The gentle tug against my scalp sent sparks of pleasure down my spine as he guided me, no longer able to resist taking part. He thrust into my mouth as I kept his pace withmy grip on his base, my tongue working him in tandem with my hand. It was obscene. Beautiful. Perfect.

“So good, Duchess,” he panted.

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