Page 69 of A Duke to Steal Her
A tremor ran through her.
Her eyes flitted to his, seeking reassurance—or perhaps permission. What she saw instead washungerbarely contained.
“Yes,” he murmured, his gaze locked on her hand. “Like that. Let your fingers tease. Do not rush. Feel the way your skinresponds, how it tightens beneath your touch.” His voice was both command and caress. “Pinch, just a little. Then soothe.”
She obeyed, tentatively at first, then with a growing confidence as pleasure stirred low in her belly.
Her cheeks flushed with heat, she felt shame warring with exhilaration, but the sound of Ambrose’s breathing, the way his knuckles whitened where his hands clenched the bedposts, emboldened her.
His voice dropped, rougher now. “Lower, Emily. Let your other hand trail down your stomach… feel how warm you are. How soft.”
She followed his direction, fingertips brushing over her navel, then lower, until she reached the place between her thighs where heat pulsed and need burned.
Her breath hitched. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“No,” he said, gently but firmly. “Keep your eyes on me.”
Her eyes snapped open, wide and vulnerable, and met his.
“Good,” he said softly. “Now part your thighs. Touch where it aches. Show me how badly you want me.”
Her fingers found her center, slick with need. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out, her body already straining under the weight of sensation. The instructions continued, reverent and precise.
“Circle there… lightly, at first. Now apply a little more pressure. You’ll know what feels right.”
And she did. Every movement of her fingers was like discovering something secret and shimmering she’d never dared explore. His voice wrapped around her, coaxing, praising, worshiping.
“Feel how perfect you are like this?” he whispered. “You were made to be touched. To be adored. And soon… it won’t be your hand there. It will be mine. My mouth. My?—”
Her gasp cut him off. Her hips arched helplessly, the pleasure building with alarming speed.
“Not yet,” he said, his voice a low growl now. “Draw it out. Linger. Let yourselfwant.”
She whimpered, her body shuddering as her fingers continued their rhythm, dragging her higher and higher while Ambrose watched like a man possessed.
The pleasure continued to build inside of her, but no matter how she followed his instructions, she could not get to the edge.
“I can’t do this,” she whimpered in frustration, and Ambrose finally moved towards her.
“You did beautifully, lioness,” he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive hollow beneath her ear. “Now let me…” His voice dropped, molten and reverent. “Let me show you how I want to worship you.”
Emily’s breath caught. Her body responded before her mind could catch up, a deep ache blooming low in her belly. She was trembling even as she slid slowly toward the foot of the bed. Her heart pounded in her throat.
“Fall back,” Ambrose instructed softly.
His hand came to rest on her lower back, guiding her with surprising gentleness. She leaned back, bracing herself, and felt the firm press of his palm as he supported her descent. He arranged her legs apart, knees drawn up, until she was spread open for him.
He stared at her for a long, breathless moment.
“So beautiful,” he said, more to himself than her. Then his eyes lifted to meet hers, dark and burning. “Keep your eyes on me.”
Before she could answer, he knelt at the foot of the bed, and she felt the first whisper of his breath against the place she ached most. Her entire body went taut.
“Ambrose,” she breathed, almost a plea.
“Shh.” His hands caressed her thighs, spreading her gently. “Let me.”
And then… his mouth was on her.
