Page 26 of Desert Island Duke

He opened his mouth and took more of her, his senses reeling at the taste. Sweet and clean, like the water. Bright, like sunlight.

She caught the back of his head, tugging him closer with a wordless plea. He chuckled. “You like that, Caro?”

“Oh, yes!”

His entire body was on fire, desperate for her, but he couldn’t forget that she was a virgin. He had to slow down, to make it good for her. He stroked her sleek curves, shaping her ribs, her waist, her thighs. Breathing pleas and praises against her skin.

“You’re beautiful, Caro.”

He slid his hand over her stomach then down, into the springy triangle of hair. She tensed for a moment, and he waited for her to push him away, but instead she arched her back and tugged him closer still. He kissed her, long drugging kisses, as his fingers slid between her legs to toy with her folds. She was wet, both from the water and her own excitement, and his heart hammered in his chest at the proof of her desire.

She wanted him. Finally.

He slipped his finger into her, just a little, and she gasped, then writhed against him. In and out, slowly, showing her the way. He swirled his thumb over the hard little bead at the top of her sex, teasing her mercilessly, and she cried out against his throat, arching into him. Her hands roamed his skin, clutching at his shoulders, his back, his arms, but he was too intent on bringing her to her first crisis to fully savor her touch.

Her breathing hitched and he quickened the pace, pushing deeper, loving the little sounds of pleasure that escaped her. Was she pretending he was a stable hand? Or the Duke of Hayworth, having his wicked way with her? It didn’t matter. He was Max, and she was Caro, and he’d wanted to do this to her for a thousand years.

She was hot, and slick, her inner muscles clutching at him, and for a split second he considered withdrawing his hand and sliding his cock inside her instead.

No. This time wasn’t for him. And he couldn’t risk her getting pregnant, either.

He claimed her mouth, thrusting his tongue in a wicked counterpoint to the movement of his hand, and she surged against him.

“Let it happen, sweeting,” he whispered against her lips. “Chase it.”

“Oh!”

He felt her climax with a rush of primal satisfaction. Her body squeezed his fingers as she arched up, riding the waves of pleasure with a cry that echoed around the clearing and sent birds flapping from the trees.

When it was over, she simply collapsed. Her arms flopped to the ground and her limbs went lax, and for a moment he feared she’d passed out. And then she let out a sigh of pure happiness and nestled her head beneath his chin.

“My God, no wonder nobody tells young ladies about this,” she breathed in awed tones. “There wouldn’t be a virgin left in England if they knew how lovely ruination feels.”

Max propped himself on his elbows and smiled down at her. Her face was flushed, her skin dewy, and his heart gave a funny little flip inside his chest.

His cock still throbbed in painful urgency, but he smoothed her hair away from her face with a gentle hand. “Nice?”

She sent him an incredulous, laughing look. “More than nice. Astonishing. Thank you.”

He bit back a smile at her earnestness. “Thank you,” he echoed solemnly. “One does one’s best to help a damsel in distress. You were clearly drowning and in need of rescue.”

Her clear gaze met his as she turned on her side to face him. “But what about you?” Her hand stroked his shoulder, then trailed with casual devastation down over his chest. She flattened her palm directly over his pounding heart. There was no chance that she wouldn’t be able to feel it.

“What about me?” he drawled.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath as if steeling herself, then slid her hand down over the muscled ridges of his abdomen and into the line of hair that arrowed from his navel to his groin.

“I think you need rescuing, too. Show me what to do.”

Chapter 15

Max caught Caro’s wrist to slow her southward exploration.

“You don’t need to do that. I’m fine.”

Her eyes twinkled as she slid a sly, frankly curious look down between their bodies. “You don’t look fine,” she said with a laugh that made his toes curl. “You look . . . uncomfortable. Swollen, even.”

“It’ll go down,” he growled. “Just—”

---