Page 61 of The Duke Says I Do
Gulping for air, he sought her gaze. Her blue eyes were languid and shaded by thick dark gold lashes.
“Portia?” He couldn’t tell if the word was protest or plea.
The lush mouth, glistening after his kiss, curled into a smile that possessed all the sensual knowledge in the world. Granville tried to tell himself that she’d been a virgin until an hour ago. That her innocence deserved respect and care.
But that smile invited him to join her in ecstasy. That smile told him that she wanted more of him. That smile belonged to a temptress who knew exactly what she needed.
Her wicked hand brushed the green edges of her dress aside to reveal her shift. He couldn’t help noticing her nipples peaking against the linen. His fingers curled against the worn wooden surface of the table, and his balls tightened into agony.
With one hand, she released the tie at the neck of her shift. His gaze fastened on her breasts. Then very slowly, so slowly that he feared he might explode before she finished, her fingers drifted down to dip into the valley between her breasts, lowering her shift to reveal more and more skin.
Granville swallowed to moisten a mouth as dry as the Sahara.
Her smile widened into catlike satisfaction, before that fiendish hand pushed down the sagging shift to reveal perfect breasts.
“Touch yourself,” he said in a voice like gravel, every drop of blood in his body rushing to his erect prick.
Her hand went still, and she regarded him with faint puzzlement. Then with an action that punched all the breath from his body, she took one nipple and rolled it into a point.
By all that was holy, she’d kill him before she finished. With a guttural groan, he shifted his weight onto one arm as he reached down to rub his cock.
“Like this?” she asked in a throaty voice.
Portia began to tease her other nipple. Her erratic breathing set her creamy flesh rising and falling in a riveting display.
“Yes, like that.” The sight of her slender hand fondling those beaded crests was the most arousing thing that he’d ever seen. His hips rocked against his hand, as he struggled not to lose control.
Frantically, he ripped at the buttons on his breeches. One clicked on the stone floor as it flew off. He gave a great exhalation of relief and closed his hand around the thick shaft.
Still it wasn’t enough. It would only be enough when he was thrusting between those pale thighs.
He swooped to kiss her with a passion that verged on frenzy. She arched up to kiss him back and tightened her legs around his buttocks to bring him closer.
Shaking as if he had a fever, he wrenched back to delve beneath her skirts. A couple of ruthless tugs tore her damp, stained drawers. She gave a muffled squeak, as shreds of white material drifted downward.
Granville paused long enough to survey the feathery dark gold hair protecting her sex. Last time, he hadn’t lingered to enjoy the view.
He was too stirred up to delay. When he shucked his breeches down to his knees, his dick bobbed free in hungry readiness.
Seizing her hips in eager hands, he pulled her toward him. He plunged deep into her body. Heat. Pressure. Welcome. The sweetest welcome in the whole wide world.
She shuddered under his thrust, her hands closing on the naked skin of his hips. Her fingers dug into his flesh, as she convulsed around him. Her swift reaction astonished him. She was the most responsive lover he’d ever known. He loved that his merest touch set her on fire.
He closed his eyes and fought to contain his impulse to spill. As her orgasm went on and on, control became more arduous. His hands formed fists on the wood, as her intimate muscles clenched.
The pleasure was so intense, it was almost violent. The urge to take this extraordinary joining to its natural end rose. Only the last threads of honor reminded him that he’d promised to save her from conceiving.
Damn it to hell, it was agony to pull out.
He gritted his teeth and wrested free, while she quaked against the table. Shaking, he shoved her skirts and petticoats up to uncover her stomach, twitching with contractions.
While hot seed spurted onto her skin, he held his tumescent dick in one hand. Catching her hand, he curved it around him as the mighty release faded. She fumbled for a breathtaking moment before she got the idea. When she squeezed, the pleasure took the edge off the grim practicality of his actions.
Unfocused dark blue eyes surveyed him. She looked dazed and satisfied and exhausted. And lovely enough to steal his heart.
When Granville released the hand that he’d jammed around his dick, she didn’t let him go. Her touch flowed through him like balm on a war wound.
Gently he disengaged her fingers, trying to ignore the shadow of complaint on her face. He straightened to tear his shirt over his head and tug up his breeches.
