Page 77 of A Duke to Steal Her
The tie at her nightgown slipped free with a single tug, and he peeled his own clothes off, his mouth never leaving hers.
He lowered himself further, trailing kisses down the curve of her neck, to the swell of her breasts. When his lips closed over her nipple, sucking gently, Emily cried out, arching into him as sensation bolted through her.
“You like that,” he murmured against her skin, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak. “You’re so responsive, love.”
He took his time, tasting her, worshipping her with his mouth, until her thighs pressed together, aching for his touch. As if sensing it, his hand slid lower, brushing over her belly, thendown between her legs. He parted her folds with deft fingers, groaning softly as he felt the slick heat waiting for him.
“You’re drenched,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers. “And I haven’t even had a proper taste yet.”
Before she could respond, his mouth was there.
Emily gasped, her fingers clawing into the sheets as his tongue licked through her folds. He found the sensitive pearl of her pleasure and circled it slowly, again and again, until her hips lifted off the bed, seeking more, chasing the fire he’d lit inside her.
His hands held her thighs open, firm and commanding, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.
“Ambrose—” Her voice broke, high and breathless. “Please…”
He didn’t answer. He groaned into her, the sound sending a fresh wave of arousal straight through her core, and then he dipped lower, his tongue pressing inside her, tasting her, claiming her in the most intimate way possible.
She shattered for him.
Her thighs trembled, her cries sharp and helpless as her body clenched around nothing, spasming with release. But he didn’t stop. He licked her through it, coaxing another climax from her with relentless, devastating skill.
When he finally rose above her again, his mouth wet with her, his eyes were darker than sin.
“Do you want me inside you now, Emily?” he asked, voice gravelly with restraint.
She could only nod, dazed and shaking with need.
He stripped the rest of his clothes in silence, watching her the entire time. His body was beautiful—lean muscle and power, carved like some ancient statue made flesh. But it was the look in his eyes that undid her.
He knelt between her legs and guided the thick length of his manhood to her entrance.
“You’re mine now,” he said, positioning himself at her core. “No turning back.”
“Good,” she whispered, lifting her hips to meet him. “I don’t want to.”
He pushed in.
Slowly. Excruciatingly.
Her breath caught, her nails digging into his shoulders as he stretched her inch by inch. The fullness of him overwhelmed her, filled her so completely she thought she might break apart fromthe sheer force of it. But the pain was fleeting, drowned by the pleasure that followed as he seated himself deep inside her.
“God in heaven, Emily,” he groaned, his forehead falling to hers. “You feel like you were made for me.”
He pulled out nearly all the way before driving back in, harder this time. The bed creaked beneath them as he began to move, slow at first, his hips rolling in deep, measured thrusts that sent sparks up her spine.
Emily clung to him, her legs wrapping around his waist, her lips pressing to his shoulder, his neck, anywhere she could reach. With each motion, he filled her to the hilt, rubbing against that secret place inside her that made her gasp every time he found it.
“Yes,” she whispered, breath ragged. “More, Ambrose—don’t stop.”
He growled low in his throat, then flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up until she was on her knees before him.
“Like this,” he said, positioning himself behind her. “I want to watch you come for me again.”
He thrust into her with a power that left her gasping, her hands gripping the headboard as her body rocked forward with each stroke. Her cries filled the room, unrestrained, and she couldn’t care. Not when he was claiming her like this, not when he was setting her soul on fire with every movement.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, his other hand reaching down to stroke her sweet spot as he pounded into her, unrelenting.
