Page 39 of Wicked Is the Duke
Her legs were flung apart in abandon, her hair spread over the pillow. Her skin was damp, and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the last bit of pleasure.
Finally, her eyes opened and she smiled when his hand went back between her legs. This time he moaned because she was drenched and ready for him.
"It's my turn," she whispered. She pushed him off her and watched hungrily as he lay back and allowed her to kiss his chest.
"Touch me," he said.
Slowly she wrapped her hand around him, and his back arched up instinctively from the explosion of searing heat.
Her hand tightened, and his mind went blank as she slid her hand down. He kept his eyes open, watching her as her small hand slid up and down his length. She licked her lips.
He lost all the self-control he'd been fighting to keep all this time. He sat up and flipped her over so the length of his cock met her softness.
"I want you," he gasped. He'd had plenty of women before, but never like this. Never.
Her hands wound into his hair, and she tugged his face to hers and licked his lips. He leaned down and nipped her playfully.
"I want you, Henry. Please," she whispered.
She shocked him, arching up and tilting her hips as she rubbed herself against him.
Slowly, he pushed the plump head of his cock inside her. She was so tight. Never had he felt anything like this. She was hot and wet for him. "You feel so good. I wish I could stay like this forever." He thrust forward. He dragged his mouth down to her jaw, pulled back, and watched.
"All right, my love?"
"Hmmm. Never better," she replied.
He started to move slow and steady. Filthy words flew out of his mouth as he thrust. He let go, his body surrounding hers.
Awkwardly, she started meeting his thrusts, forcing him deeper with each stroke. He could feel his balls tightening as the storm gathered in his loins. He was covered with sweat as his hips pounded into this woman who clung to him. He froze when her body clenched around his cock.
His head fell forward as he emptied himself into her. He hadn't softened, and instead of withdrawing, he watched her face, a drop of sweat running down it. "Do you want me to withdraw?"
Her eyes blinked. She was sated and happy. He nudged forward, letting her know he was still in her.
"No," she replied. She wiggled her hips, bent her knees and nudged back against him.
"You're sure? We can wait until later, tomorrow if you wish." He didn't mean it. He'd go mad if he couldn't have her, but he was a gentleman, and if she was sore, he wouldn't take her.
"It feels good when you do that," she said as she matched his thrust.
He thrust again. "You mean this?"
She made a sensual mewing sound, causing him to lose his head again.
As though the last hour hadn't happened, he started again. She bit his neck as she moaned.
He lost himself in his wife, thrusting into her again and again. Fast, then slow. She moaned every time. Her head tossed as he slammed home.
She clung to him. "I never imagined it would be like this," she whispered with a gasp as he thrust slowly forward.
He kissed her lips, nibbling her bottom lip. "No?"
"Never."
She was learning their rhythm, rising up to meet him. As he braced himself on one arm, he played with a nipple, loving the way her breath was coming short and ragged as he kept moving.
"Henry!"
