Page 98 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
He sucked in a breath at her boldness, just as she sighed in pleasure. He was so big, so thick, and she remembered how very wonderful it had felt to be filled by him.
“Ellie,” he managed, his voice strained.
But she was in charge now. He’d shown her pleasure. Now it was her turn.
She maneuvered to the edge of the table once more, spreading her legs and tugging him closer. His lids were half-closed, his breathing shallow. She placed his cock at her entrance, then tipped her head back to meet his eyes.
“Yes?” she asked, praying she knew the answer.
“Love, I’m no’ going to give ye a bairn.”
The words startled her, and she had to blink, to breathe, to remember what had brought them together in the first place. Ellie swallowed, then nodded, then told the truth.
“I do not need your baby, Fawkes. Justyou.”
Slowly, his lips curled into a grin. Not a wry grin, or a rueful one…but a genuine smile, which revealed his dimple and made her breath catch.
Holding her gaze, he slid into her.
They both exhaled and froze.
The pause went on for a dozen heartbeats, then a dozen more, until the wonder of the moment was overpowered by impatience.
For Ellie, at least.
With a little whimper, she rocked her hips, just slightly, and his gaze jerked away from hers to move lower.
His hands shifted to her hips as he began to move, sliding slowly in and out of her.
It was a gentle sort of rhythm, not at all the desperate pace she wanted him to set.
But he wasn’t looking at her any longer. Or rather, he was looking at the place where they were joined, his eyes lit with a hunger which made her want to gather him in her arms and her heart.
“Look at ye,” he whispered. “Christ, look at ye, Ellie.” He slid into her again. “Look at how goddamnedperfectye are, taking my cock like that.”
His praise made her breath catch, made her fingers dig into his shoulders.More.
“Fooking perfect.” With those words, he jerked forward, slamming into her hard enough to drive her breath from her lungs.
As she inhaled, he reached up and cupped the back of her neck, finally—finally!—holding her gaze.
“Ye’re a good lass, aye?” He slammed home again, causing her lips to part on a moan. “Mygood lass.”
His thrusts were more powerful now, more possessive. Ellie tried to gasp but couldn’t make her lungs cooperate. It was all she could do to hold on and try to remember to breathe.
Fawkes plunged into her, possessing her in the most wonderful, overwhelming way.
She was surprised to feel the familiar pressure building inside her. Who knew that being taken—owned—in such a way would make her feel this way so quickly?
You did. Fawkes did.
Oh, yes.
“Such a good lass,” he rasped again, reaching up with his other hand to hold her. Now he cradled her jaw with both hands, his fingertips meeting at the back of her head. It was as if he had to hold her in place as he slammed in and out of her…
“Yer cunny was made for my cock, love. Christ, Ellie, ye’re perfect.”
She could do nothing more than whimper.
