Page 66 of A Duke to Steal Her
“God, Emily,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “You’re mine, you know that? Every part of you… mine.”
She shivered under his touch, the way his fingers traced her skin sparking something deep within her.
His lips brushed her ear, and his voice came low and rough, “I’ll show you just how much I want you, Emily. How long I’ve waited.”
His hands slid slowly down her sides, pausing at the hem of her nightdress. With steady fingers, he pulled it over her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He stepped back just a little, eyes drinking her in.
“You’re so, so beautiful,” he said, the words barely a whisper but heavy with meaning.
Then, with unhurried confidence, he undid his trousers and let them slide down. Her eyes dropped instinctively—and widened. She gasped, startled by his full, hard length.
“Ambrose…” she breathed.
But he moved closer and said gently, “Not until you’re ready.”
He carried her to the bed and laid her on the satiny sheets. His hands caressed her trembling body, reverent in every touch. He kissed down the delicate line of her throat, her collarbone, the curve of her stomach—slow, unhurried worship.
When he reached the apex of her thighs, he gently parted them, his breath warm against her sensitive skin. Emily let out a soft gasp, her hips shifting instinctively toward him.
“You want me to ruin you with my mouth, sweet girl?” he murmured, his voice rough with need.
Her breath caught, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes… please.”
Ambrose growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her skin as he settled between her legs. His hands gripped her hips firmly, anchoring her as he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, then another, closer now.
Then his tongue touched her, a soft stroke that made her cry out. His mouth was hot, wicked, devastating as he licked and sucked with expert attention, drawing helpless moans from her lips. Her fingers tangled in the sheets, then in his hair, clutching him as though she might come undone entirely.
“God, look at you,” he rasped between strokes. “Trembling for me already.”
Her entire body arched as his tongue circled her sweet spot, slowly at first, then faster, more insistent. He devoured her like a man starved, coaxing every sigh and gasp from her throat.
“Ambrose—” she gasped, her voice breaking. “Please don’t stop.”
He didn’t. His grip on her thighs tightened as he pulled her closer, deeper into his mouth, as though he couldn’t bear even an inch of distance between them. He worshipped her with each stroke of his tongue, every flick and roll pushing her higher, winding her tighter.
Pleasure coiled inside her like a spring ready to snap.
“Please—Ambrose—please—” Her voice dissolved into a cry as her climax crashed through her, hard and blinding.
She shook beneath him, her thighs trembling as he held her through it, never easing up, never letting go.
He kept going, relentless, his mouth moving with dark purpose as he pushed her into another wave. Her second orgasm hit harder, stealing the breath from her lungs, her body writhing as she clutched at him.
By the time he pulled back, her skin was flushed, her chest heaving, her voice a hoarse whisper.
Ambrose rose over her slowly, his eyes fierce. He brushed her hair back from her damp forehead and kissed her gently, tenderly, reverently.
“You’re mine, Emily,” he said against her lips, his voice low. “And I’m going to spend every night learning what makes you fall apart.”
Her body was still trembling in his arms as she rested her head on his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like that.”
Ambrose smiled softly, his fingers tracing patterns on her back. “I could give you this whenever you wish for it, my little lioness.”
She sighed deeply, her body finally relaxing as she succumbed to the warmth of his embrace.
“Sleep, love,” he whispered, his fingers stroking her hair. “I’ll be right here when you wake.”
And with that, she drifted off, wrapped in his arms, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, finally understanding why once would never, ever be enough.
