Page 60 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
His thrusts increased, the pressure building behind his ballocks, demanding he drain himself into her, demanding he make herhis. And as the pressure built, so did his anger.
Anger at her.
Anger at himself.
Anger at who he had become.
Anger at who he would become for her.
He grasped her wrist, pinning her to the wall with his hold and his cock as he pumped into her dripping cunny. “Ye want this? Ye want a criminal’s cock? A traitor’s? Ye’d turn me into a whore, too, would ye no’, Ellie? Fooking ye in an alley like this foryerdesires?”
She bucked underneath him, eyes closed, lips parted, breathing harsh.
“Say it, Ellie!” he commanded, as his cock sunk into her warmth again.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“Say it.”
Oh, God,yes. Her eyes flew open. “Yes, I want you, Fawkes. Oh God, just like—Oooh! Please.”
“Please what?” he demanded.
Her tongue darted across her lips. “Please,” she whispered, her breath cracking with each hard plunge that pushed her into the bricks. “Pleaselet me turn around.”
He froze, plastered against her, cock sunk to the hilt inside her.
Her gaze flicked to him, although she had to twist her head to do so. “Please, Fawkes,” she whispered. “I cannot…from this angle…” She swallowed, and he felt her quiver beneath him. “I want tofeelyou.”
Holy.
Fooking.
Hell.
She wanted tofeelhim?
He was doomed, was he not?
With a growl, Fawkes yanked away from her, using his hold on her wrist to twist her about, to resettle her against the brick wall. Her hair had come loose, hanging around her temples. He wanted to wrap those strands around his hand. He wanted to wrap them around hisheart.
“Like this?” he murmured, lifting her leg again.
She didn’t answer, but threw her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to him. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was trying to mount him.
Her skirts had become trapped between them again, but he made short work of pushing and pulling them aside. This time, when presented with her wet, welcoming warmth, he didn’t hesitate.
He slid inside and they both moaned.
Ellie buried her face in the crook of his neck, which was when he realized he was holding her off the ground. She didn’t complain.
In fact, as his thrusts increased in intensity, she hooked her leg around his waist, until his hand wasn’t holding her thigh any longer, but cupping her soft arse. His fingers grasped at her cheek, pulling her wider, pulling her closer.
“Ye’re so wet, Ellie,” he murmured. “For me.”
“For you,” she gasped against his throat. “All for you, Fawkes.”
All for you.
