Page 31 of Good Duke Gone Far

Her body was burning up and she knew he was right. Her core was craving to be filled. To be stuffed. By him. Only him. The man she thought was too stuffy. All she wanted was his stuff.

Her mind had turned to porridge. “I need you, Quinn. My body is begging for you.”

“For me?” He pulled her hips underneath him. “Or this?” And nudged his cock between her folds.

“Both. I want that. I want you. I want all of it. Give it to me, Quinn. And for the love of God, don’t hold back. Swear to me.” She knew how he swore. By his soul. And if he could say that, and give her that… Well, the thoughts were landing in pudding right now, or was it porridge?

“I swear by my soul, I’ll give you everything.”

The tip of him entered her. She cried out. “Ah, Quinn. You are what I need.”

“I’ll go slowly at first, so I don’t hurt you. But then…”

“Yes.”

He grunted, holding himself back. His entire body, every single muscle she could run her fingers over, was flexed. And oh God, was he ripped.

His chin nudged hers, asking without words, if she was ready for more.

“You feel…like everything I’ve been missing.”

He pushed inside another inch. Her moans heightened. “I don’t want to feel like I’m missing anything anymore, Quinn.”

She could feel his cock slide into her, fully. Like everything as it should be. His pelvic bone matched hers. Her hands wrapped around to his bum, and she pulled him closer.

With a growl he pulled out to his tip and nudged in again. She bucked her hips up to follow his retreat, and he thrust in. This time his pelvic bone collided with hers, and she knew that the slow start was over.

Her breasts crashed against his chest and bounced until she grabbed them and pushed them together. His mouth devoured her, first one, then the other. Her hips left the mattress. Then her hands were in his hair, pulling his mouth to hers. Their tongues matching the motions of his cock. She couldn’t get enough of him. She needed more. More of him. All of him.

“God, Kat,” he panted. “You are…everything. I need…I think I lo–”

With what little presence of mind she had left, she stole the words from his mouth with a searing kiss. His hand squeezed her breast and she could feel herself so close to arriving at something. At the something he had shown her before. But different. So much more.

His hand reached down between the small spaces where their bodies were colliding, and his thumb rubbed small circles on her nub. The coiling inside her core was tightening, wrapping, pulling, until…ultimate release. Floating. Departure.

Quinn pulled back, out of her. A second release. Then he groaned and spent into the vortex.

That was the moment Kat completely lost herself. Her soul untethered.

Chapter 12

KATWOKEUPTHEnext morning with a mission on her mind. The previous night had left her completely exposed, which was both terrifying and exhilarating. She knew she had a choice to make in either sustaining the change or stifling it. The mission playing over and over in her mind spoke to sustaining the change.

Quinn’s hand gripped her hip. He was still asleep, but she could feel his waking movements. The hand on her hip, traipsing down to her thigh. The other arm reaching underneath her ribcage and coming up for a handful of her breast. And his touch was warm. Wicked. And one point of contact was undeniably wet.

From behind, she could feel him hardening, and her cunny couldn’t squeeze itself tight enough. She now knew what all these signs led to, and, call her wicked, she desperately wanted him again.

She arched her bum into him. Could feel the little droplets of dew budding out of him, against her backside. She grabbed his hand and pushed it down to her mons. The mission completely forgotten. Arching her head back, she swept her hair up and over the pillow, exposing her neck. Inviting him to take her.

His moan egged her on, and she pushed gently back into him again. “Quinn, God, please tell me you’re up.”

“I thought for sure you could tell that already,” came the gravelly reply followed by a chuckle. “I think I dreamt of you all night, but my body didn’t receive the missive.”

“Touch me,” she whispered. Waiting. Hoping. Praying she wouldn’t be rejected. She wasn’t sure people did this in the morning. From her limited experience, they didn’t. But she could imagine no better way to wake up.

Quinn tugged his hand free of her grasp and reached up to trace her mouth. She drew his thumb into her mouth and sucked. Her core throbbing. Yearning to be next.

And she wasn’t disappointed. His now damp thumb ran a course down over her breast, across her nipple, over her belly, and down through her core. From one set of lips to another. The wet trail cooled as her inner body ignited.

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