Page 27 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
It was impossible to keep from reaching for her so Fawkes didn’t bother trying. With one hand still pressing against his cockstand, he touched her thigh, urging her toward him.
“Lift,” he murmured, and when she obeyed, he wrapped his fingers around her calf, moving it toward the cushion beside him.
It took her a moment to catch her balance, but when she did, Ellie stood before him on one leg, the other propped beside him on the sofa, his face even with her sweet cunny.
“Aye,” he breathed, turning his face toward her and inhaling. “Aye.”
Swallowing, he leaned back, tipping his head so he could see all of her without straining. “Are ye embarrassed, lass?” He ran his free hand up her stockinged calf, then down again, watching her shudder. “Ye wanted this, remember?”
She didn’t answer, but a little whimper escaped her lips as she rocked forward.
“Touch yerself,” he commanded, enjoying this more than he should. “Spread those pretty lips, Ellie.”
Her mouth opened, and he shook his head with a smirk. “No’ those lips.”
When her breath caught, he knew she’d understood.
Slowly, hesitantly, her hands dropped to her thighs. They were spread—Christ, he could seeeverythingfrom this angle, positioned beneath her—and it didn’t take much for her fingers to inch closer.
“Aye, that’s it,” he murmured, stroking her leg again. He rubbed his cock, wondering if he could trust himself to pull it out. Probably not. “Show me how ye like to be touched. Show me how ye touch yerself, when ye’re alone in yer room.”
Her breaths were coming faster now, and her eyes fluttered shut. But Ellie hadn’t backed down from a challenge yet, and she wasn’t going to now.
He liked that about her. One to add to the list.
One set of fingers spread her lips, while the opposite index finger hesitated, hovering above the folds. Fawkes could see herall.
“Wait,” he barked, and reached for her hand. Her eyes flashed open as he pulled her hand to his mouth and sucked two of her fingers between his lips.
Her lips parted in confusion, even as his tongue spread his saliva over her digits. Using his hold on her wrist, he tugged them from his mouth and pushed then back toward her cunny.
“There.” He didn’t bother sitting back, but followed the movements of those fingers mere inches away. “Now touch yerself.”
When she slid her now-slick fingers through her folds, they both sucked in a breath.
“Ye like that, aye?” he murmured, leaning closer, his free hand on her knee. “Ye like being on display for me?”
She whimpered, and he flashed a glance up at her.
“Say the words, Ellie.”
“I like it,” she gasped.
“But ye’d like it more if it weremyfingers touching ye, aye?”
Moaning in what sounded like desperation, she tilted her hips toward him, her fingers moving out of the way so she could touch her clitoris.
Well, really, he couldn’t pass up an invitation like that, could he?
Fawkes’s lips touched the inside of her thigh, then the outer fold of her cunny. Then, just as she sucked in a surprised gasp, his tongue delved into her cleft. Her hips bucked, almost unseating him, but Fawkes grinned and persevered.
Suddenly desperate to possess her, he released her hip to nudge her hand aside, claiming her cunny as his own. As his lips teased and suckled and licked, her fingers dug into his hair, holding him in place.
He hummed against her folds, loving not just the taste of her, but how she was clearly enjoying herself.
His fingers felt large and rough against her delicate skin, but that seemed to only heighten the sensitivity. Her channel could easily take one of his fingers, but as he slid a second one in, Ellie moaned.
And he echoed it.
