Page 42 of The Duke's Spinster

“Options,” he remembered aloud with a ragged breath. “Here.” He pointed to her nipples then dragged his finger down to her center. “Here.”

She nodded with heavy lids. “Yes,” she arched upward.

With the slightest tremble, he reached up and untied her straps, letting the bodice fall. Famished, he took one of her breasts and sucked. Her moan sunk into his ears, his bones. He pushed up into her, alleviating the ache he knew they both possessed. He laved on her nipple, torturing her by pulling away and blowing a cool stream over the wet trail he had left with his tongue.

“Wesley,” she moaned his name. It was too much. He had to kiss her more deeply.

“I need to kiss you,” he said as he lifted her. He laid her on the carpet near enough to the fire to stay warm.

“Options,” he had barely remembered to offer them. “Here,” he pointed to her core again. “Or here.” Her lips. Parted.

She couldn’t speak but used her hand to cover her mons.

Oh God, that was the choice he wanted her to make. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to drink from her fount and worship her body.

He circled her ankles with his hands and slowly ran his palms up toward her thighs, exposing more and more of her until finally he saw her dark curls.

Kisses. All up her leg, on the side of her knee, up along and upward, inward on her thigh. He could see her chest moving up and down quicker now.

And as much as he wanted to lick her senseless, he needed her trust. He wanted absolute certainty sure that she wanted it too.

He asked permission once more to lick the cunny of his goddess.

“Yes?”

Chapter Sixteen

“Yes,” she whisperedhoarsely. “Please, Wesley.” She could feel herself dripping wet. He answered with his tongue. There. God, he was lapping at her. The groans overtook her body. She arched her hips up into his face. Her hands were in his hair. Holding him close. She was restless. Aching.

He needed to give her what she wanted, and God, she never knew how much she would want his lips on her down there.

His tongue flicked over her once tight bud, and she nearly shouted in ecstasy.

“Yes, Wesley,” was all she could manage to say.

His tongue entered her core and she had no sense of location, only a destination she wanted to reach.

“Please,” she whimpered.

He withdrew his tongue and gently put a finger, then two, inside of her. Pressing, padding, circling until her destination was so close she could smell it. It smelled of sandalwood. And mint.

And then his tongue was licking rhythmically along her bud and she knew he would meet her where she wanted to go.

“Wesley,” the last word from her place of origin. Her body trembled and she felt something spill out of her.

“Oh my God, Boudicca. You’ve given me the best drink of my life.”

And he was about to stand. She didn’t want him going anywhere. The thought of him leaving, even to add the slightestdistance was unthinkable. She had been sated, but really, she wanted more. She needed to feel him again. She wanted to feel him in every possible way. The impossibility could be a reality if she reached for it. She need only lift her hand, or open her mouth and ask for what she wanted.

Despite her limbs being weak and heavy, she reached up to him. She knew there was more. And she wanted it. Something about him was different tonight. Fully real. Fully himself. He was only here for her. And she wanted it all. Despite everything she was falling for him. And if she was falling, she wanted her chance at fullness. She would fall hard. Even if she fell alone.

She needed to know it all.

“Options?” she asked weakly.

Astonishment prevented him from giving an answer. So she took the lead.

“This.” She grazed his raging erection. “Here.”

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