Page 11 of Good Duke Gone Wild

“Give me something to dream about tonight,” she whispered, and though her words sounded confident, her mind raced wondering who the hellshethought she was?

Upon reflex, his hips arched toward her, rubbing his bulge against her core. A whimper desperately clawed its way out of her throat.

“You can’t handle the dreams I could give you. You’d never want to wake up.” His hot breath sent shivers down her spine and her arms. A powerful shudder flew up her arm causing her to almost lose her balance, but his grip on her was strong. Pulling her in. Holding her tight. What was this daring safety she felt with him that was such a contradiction of terms? This familiar foreignness. This open door that felt so forbidden. As though she could have him…if she wanted him. But did she dare?

With this man. This fake pirate. But nothing felt fake. It felt so damn real. His body responding to her. And eliciting suchstrong reactions from her. His grip on her hips was not about to let go. In fact, it might even leave marks on her the next day. A shiver ribboned through her, twirling, twisting, tugging.

She wanted to moan. Call his name. What even was his name? Here she was having her most intimate moment to date with a nameless man. God, she was wanton.

But then again…never had she felt so free. So herself. She wanted everything that was happening. She was choosing it. Enjoying it. Encouraging it. Desperate for it.

Oh. That tension coiling in her stomach, God, she knew what that meant. She wanted to open her lips and beg for more, but not wanting to play all of her cards, she bit down on her lip instead.

“Open for me,” he whispered into her ear. And the words trickled through her, as if lighting a hidden pathway that she had to discover on her own.

And as much as she wanted to set the pace and be in control, her body wasn’t entirely her own. At his command, her body obeyed, so she brought her other leg up onto the desk.

The move startled him. Oh. Had he not meant that?

But before she could give it thought, one of his hands reached behind him and swept the desk clear. He perched himself more fittingly on the desk and with his other hand under her bottom, he secured her to his cock and ground her against him.

With a grunt, he said, “Open your mouth for me, Siren.”

Her lips parted involuntarily and he dove in. His tongue making the moves that his cock was barricaded against making.

And oh, how sweet he tasted. How manly. How did man taste? She had no idea, but this was it. It had to be. It was intoxicating. Heady. His scent wrapped around her. Fresh soap and salty air. And thoughshe was sure she imagined the fragrance of the ocean on this fake pirate, she didn’t let that stop her from inhaling his essence and savoring it.

This was exactly the life experience she needed. She could feel it changing her from the inside out. As though she had always been herself but never fully herself before. But she already knew that. She had always hidden most of herself to appeal to society. But here, in a mask, with a nameless, eye-patched fake pirate, she could be exactly who she wanted to be.

And apparently that was a woman who liked to kiss a man. Who liked it very much and wanted so much more from him.

Another roll of his hips and she could feel her insides starting to quake, as if they hadn’t undergone enough shifting already. But then every single muscle in her body tense, waited, anticipated some grandiose revelation. And it didn’t disappoint.

White, hot pleasure rippled through her. Stars pinned themselves to the backs of her eyes. And he—whoever he was—muffled her moans with his relentless kiss. Hot, devouring.

He didn’t back down. Even after her body grew heavy, he grunted against her. And then, to her utter stupefaction, his body tensed, and she knew what came next for him. Though she had never thought it possible that she would be the cause of such a reaction, especially full clothed. Especially in the library of someone else’s home. Especially to a man she didn’t even know. It was pure fantasy. Yet real.

His hands squeezed her hips with one final clench, and then she felt his hardness softening. Her heart was pounding and her breaths were still short as she tried to find a semblance of a coherent thought again. It was like they had both softened for each other. Which was…odd.

Her body together with his made sense in a way that made no sense. She didn’t know him, yet her body knew him. Longed for him. Released for him. And she felt his body had done the same. It wasenough to make any woman go mad, never mind a virgin losing her innocence. What was she supposed to do now? What was the normal response after such an exchange with a man? She knew what she could have, but she didn’t dare think, never mind ask for it. No. Even though she had just experienced the most pleasure of her life, that’s all that it was.

“What the devil did you do to me?” he muttered peevishly as he dragged a slow hand down his face.

And really, that should have outraged her. But it didn’t. He hadn’t tricked her or coerced her. He hadn’t taken advantage of her, that was for sure. He wasn’t ugly. God, he was probably the handsomest man she had ever seen in her entire life. Forget that. Not probably, he was absolutely, without any doubt whatsoever the handsomest man she had ever seen. And he had wanted her. Her body shivered in delight. So, no, she wasn’t angry with him in the least. She was quite pleased with him.

She got the experience she was looking for, which she was certain would make for excellent writing. Her writing, that’s what this was all for. And beyond that, she didn’t care.

That is, until the knock on the door.

Chapter 7

“YOU SHOULD OPEN IT,” Agatha nudged the man. Damn it, she really needed to know his name. It felt foolish, unable to refer to him by name. Far too foolish for her liking. HissingPiratefell flat as a command, and whisper-shoutingCaptainfelt as though she were going along far too deeply into the roleplay of the masquerade ball. If he wanted to keep his eye patch on, she would let him have that power. But she wasn’t about to submit herself to him in her mind—her betraying body had already relinquished enough control over to him.

“What’s your name?” she hissed, watching him hoist his eyes open. Oh yes, her legs trembled, remembering the sensation she had just had with him. It felt empowering that her body had made him physically react to her so strongly as well. It was a power she had never wielded before, but having done so now made her hungry for more.

“Me?” His finger was lazily poised against his chest, slightly lower than a sober person might gesture.

Of course, at that she rolled her eyes.

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